Ch: 109 Rouge waves (Patreon)

Edited by Aldous

I'm going to try and get another chapter out tonight or early tomorrow. I'm also going to be late next week because I'm going to be in California visiting family. I'll be back next Monday so hope for a DM chapter Wednesday.  

Enjoy

Chapter 109

Rogue waves

“No! No, this one goes here, that one goes there!” The grumpy diplomatic marine yelled Freya. He was leaning down, and pointing at the panel in front of her. He was hanging down from the ladder that was hooked to the ceiling beside the first generator, which was open to the compartment which had caught on fire. Freya looked at what he was pointing at and switched the replacement parts before plugging them in.

She felt a little better at the work the engineer from the mine had done with the generators. The guy above her, a sergeant from the Diplomatic Marine company, was a senior Mech mechanic and pilot. The first thing he told her, which she should have realized, in hindsight, was that the active camo generators were classified tech. A civilian, even if she was part of the Colonial Services, wouldn’t understand the tech since it was designed so that it could not be reverse engineered.

The problem with the generators was that there were a lot of fake parts and systems that were designed to fool anyone who wasn’t trained to work on them. The sergeant told her that the engineer did a passable job not blowing the generators up by installing them the way she had. He did have a lot to say about someone like him not being there to help install it in the first place. While calling the officers above him idiots, he did say it was an innocent mistake.

“We don’t use a lot of self-sabotaging tech like this because most of the military tech will be out of date within ten years or so. Active camo generators are one of those things that rarely go out of date. You might not have the most up-to-date specs, but what you have will still work.” He had told her, after looking over the generators when he first came on board the plane.

“You done yet?” He asked her, bringing her back to the present. She quickly finished, correctly this time, plugging the part in. She hit the test button and the tiny light turned green.

“Done.” She said, picking the part up and handing it to him. He accepted the part and rightened himself on the ladder before plugging it back into the generator. She watched him plug the part back in, but in a completely different spot from where he had taken it from. He then removed a few wires, letting them drop to the floor, before he started attaching the clamps on the part he had just plugged in.

“There, that should work much better.” He said with satisfaction.

Back when the sergeant had first come on board, he insisted on working on the other generators first before moving on to the broken one. “I know it’s broken, what I don’t know is if the others are. We’ll work backwards and see, won’t we.” He had told her.

There had been some damage to the other generators, but none of them were as bad as the first one. Mostly he had yanked out wires, and sprayed some kind of fluid that was designed to reduce the heat produced by shaking the generator. On the outside he had replaced the glue between the generators and the plane’s roof with odd-looking brackets that didn’t look like they would work that well, but according to him would work exceptionally well. He explained it had something to do with the frame of the generators on the inside of the shell. He replaced the glue with a spray-on insulator that filled the holes in between the plane's roof and the generators.

“These things aren’t designed to be used on vehicles.” He had told her, as he sprayed the fluid on the parts before he had buttoned up the generator. “Any movement tends to cause friction, which causes things to come undone or burn up. But this should do it. I wouldn’t want to use it past a few weeks, but it will work until then.”

“There, you’re good.” He told her, smiling up at the generator after he climbed down off the ladder. He hit the switch and the ladder detached itself from the ceiling and telescoped downwards until it was only four feet long. “Keep this handy. We may have to fix the stupid things again.”

“Will do, and thanks, sergeant.” Freya said, as she too looked at the repaired generator.

“Well, I got to go muster up my squad. Save me a good seat.” He said, turned around and started walking down the back of the plane. Freya watched him for a few seconds then turned around to find a storage compartment for the ladder.

Captain Thompson hadn’t spoken to her yet and she was starting to wonder if she would. According to the mission timer they only had five minutes until they started boarding the platoons. The plane was mostly empty now. They had pulled the civilian Mechs off the plane and under the dropship’s camo bubble then walked them into a large lake covered in green algae. They still had the six Mechs onboard, but most of the plane was empty.

They were running out of printer fluid, so they couldn’t print out any more non-essential parts or things. That meant that there were only a few seats available on the plane. Freya hoped that she didn’t have to do any combat maneuvers because most of the passengers were going to have to sit on the deck with only chains running down the length of the plane to secure them. She pulled out a marker from a compartment on the plane and wrote down the sergeant's name, the one who helped fix the generators, on a folded up seat. She thought it was the least she could do after he helped her.

“Magic, how long until you fix those generators?” Sergeant Kruz asked over her private channel.

“Just finished up, sergeant.” Freya told her new platoon leader. “I was going to run a diagnostic on them. Shouldn't take more than thirty seconds.”

“Okay. Captain Thompson wants to see you once you’re done. She’s in the dropship. Get with her, but be back on the cargo ship in five. We can’t have you holding things up.” Sergeant Kruz told her.

Freya rolled her eyes, but replied, “Will do, sergeant.”

The dropship had returned twenty minutes ago. It was the fourth time it had returned. This time it remained at the waystation. It had been dropping off a bunch of militia before it would fly off to wherever they were getting more of them. Apparently, the fourth trip was the last one. The last time the dropship left the waystation was so that the Mech pilots could march their machines to the lake to ditch them. They had slaved the empty ones to the ones they were in and marched the whole lot of them in in one go. It was, Freya had thought at the time, a very cool sight. She knew that while they were underwater, they were still available in case they needed them at a later date.

The hour that Sergeant Kruz had given them had turned into four. Which they needed. Pulling the Mechs out of the plane without damaging it had taken two hours. The march had only taken twenty minutes after that. Then they had to take the time to repair the generators which they couldn’t do until all the Mechs were off the plane. Well, they could have, but the sergeant who fixed them was one of their six pilots and was needed to remove the Mechs in the first place. The decision had come down that they were to pull the Mechs off to make room for all the fighters because even if the generators didn’t work they were still going to have to use the plane, no matter what. Freya would just have to hide in the dropship’s active camo shadow again if they couldn’t fix them.

Once the ladder was secure, she walked into the cockpit and sat down in the pilot's chair. Turning the power to the control panel on, she waited for it to do it’s self-diagnostic tests. She watched the active camo console, holding her breath, until it lit up with steady green lights. She let out the breath she had been holding before nodding herself, She turned on the plane's engines while still watching the console. The generators’ console lights stayed green, not flickering even once. Nodding to herself once more, she turned off the engines and powered down the plane. Then she got up and left the cockpit.

She found Thompson in the front of the dropship sitting at the command and control station. She was talking to a bunch of sergeants so Freya stood back and waited until she was done. Captain Thompson apparently had other ideas though because she broke off speaking after she spotted Freya waiting. She quickly ended her conversation with the sergeants and waved Freya forward.

“Magic, come look at this.” She said, as soon as they were alone. She clicked on a screen and it brought up a feed.

Freya looked over Thompson’s shoulder and saw that she was seeing a feed from the underwater ambush. In fact the feed looked very familiar. She was just about to say something when she spotted a shark killing a marine. The odd thing though was that the feed kept looking at what looked like empty water as the gory scene continued to happen to the left of the feed.

“Hold on. I got one more I want to show you.” She said and the scene changed to show a feed looking at the back of the dropship.

It focused on the back of the ramp for a few seconds showing nothing, then out of nowhere, there was a huge bubble of air as an underwater explosion went off. A couple of seconds later the tail of a shark floated out of the back of the dropship. Only the feed really didn’t watch what was left of the shark. The focus of the feed never moved from the top end of the dropship near the ramp.

“You saw something.” Thompson said, looking up at Freya. Freya looked down at the captain and nodded.

“Ghosts.” She told her old Gunny.

‘Ghosts?” Her old Gunny asked, frowning.

“Here,” Freya said, pointing at the feed where it had frozen, showing the back end of the dropship. “...I saw Mother’s ghost trying to get back into the ship. In the other feed I saw the shark ripping the soul out of that marine who got torn in half.”

Mother said nothing and turned around to look at the screen. “Ghosts?” She asked again.

“Yes, ma’am.” Freya replied, starting to worry that she should have kept it to herself. “At first I thought it was a weird afterimage, but all the ghosts were trying to get back to their bodies, and were acting very differently from their physical body.”

“Ghosts.” Thompson said again. This time Freya didn’t say anything as she watched the captain, wondering what was going through the other woman's mind.

“Have you seen ghosts before?” The Captain asked, still looking blankly at the screen.

“No, ma’am.” Freya replied. “It horrified me because I knew they were zeroed out for good.”

“Do you think you are seeing whatever tech they are using to corrupt the digital data?” She asked Freya, after a few seconds of silence.

“Yes, ma’am.” Freya replied, not sure where the captain was going with her question.

“Ghosts are as good a name as anything else.” Thompson said, turning around and looking at Freya, seemingly back to normal. “They either had a denial sphere hidden close by or the constructs have the ability to corrupt the respawn data. I’ll look over what I got and see if I can find a denial sphere somewhere close by. Did you see any ghosts back at the ammonia plant?”

“No, ma’am.” Freya replied. “Then again no marines died there. I’m not sure the militia there had any digital backups.”

“Some of the Colonial Service people do, but not all of them. Most of the digital copies get destroyed when they arrive at the planet they are sent to get ready for colonization. Only those who are higher-ranking or have high enough points get saved.” Thompson replied.

“Rough.” Freya replied, shaking her head. “What happens if there’s an accident and people die?”

“Then they die.” Thompson replied, firmly. “Marines are expected to die to complete the mission. Colonial Service members are not.”

“Oh.” Freya said, feeling sad. She kind of knew that, but it really didn’t sink in.

“Was that why I didn’t feel so sad?” She thought to herself. “Even though I knew they were most likely dead for good, did I somehow think they would come back? Am I still thinking like this is a sim mission?”

“We lost our PsyOps Agent, but I still need intel.” Thompson told her. “I know you’re not a telepath, but hopefully you can get something if we find a Ketica. So far this war is confined to this planet. We can only hope it remains so. If it does go beyond this planet, then we need to know a way to end it.”

“We’re doing a pretty good job of kicking their butts so far.” Freya said with a smile. Then seeing Thompson’s face she quickly added, “Well, except for this last one. They took us by surprise.”

“Yes, but have you noticed that we aren't seeing the same constructs that you trained on? That tells us that the Ketica can create new and better versions of their constructs. We are worried that, as the war progresses, they will keep coming up with new and better constructs until we start to fall behind.” Captain Thompson told her.

“This war might just be confined to this planet. If that is so, then all we have to do is win this. If not, then this thing will get ugly very fast. Also, it might be that we are faster in advancing our tech versus them, but we can’t be sure nor can we act like we will always be so. We need to find a way to end this war as fast as possible. Either by winning this planet back or getting our good name back. The method doesn’t matter, but this war needs to end soon.” She said, looking off to the side, gazing at something only she could see.

“I prefer that we get our good name back.” Thompson said as she came back from wherever she had gone to. “It might prevent future problems in the making.”

“That brings us back to you.” She said, looking Freya in the eye. “I’m going to keep you back with me. You’re our last hope to get something out of the Ketica. Cannon is going to take over your team until this is over. You are too valuable to risk fighting.”

Freya nodded then frowned. “Why is this place so important? Fighting in the ocean puts us at a disadvantage.” Freya asked, hoping she wasn’t stepping on the Captain’s toes.

“Statistically, it is the best place we have identified that a Ketica will most likely be.” The Captain replied, sounding tired. “There were other bases, but there is no guarantee that we will pick the right base with a Ketica inside. The factory has the highest probability that one of them will be there.”

“Even now, after the ambush?” Freya asked.

“I hope so.” Thompson replied, sounding very tired. She gave Freya a look that she couldn’t interpret. “If I show you a bunch of bases, you think you can pick a better place?”

“I can look.” Freya said, shrugging.

The Captain turned around and, after a few clicks, started showing her a bunch of Ketica bases on the command and control screens. “These are the ones we have found so far.” The Captain told her. “The October will most likely target them once she clears out all the weapons above us.”

Freya looked at each base, as Thompson tabbed through them. Two minutes later Freya shook her head. “Sorry, I got nothing.” She told her old Gunny.

“It was a wild shot.” She replied, sounding sad. “Get back to the cargo ship, and get everything sorted. Your orders are to land that thing in the ocean and deploy the emergency floaters. The dropship will come up beside you, and I want you on board as soon as possible.”

“Will do.” Freya said, nodding her head. “You know it’s a plane not a ship, right?”

“What?” Thompson asked, looking confused.

“A ship can leave the atmosphere, but a plane can’t.” Freya replied, with a smug smile.

“A ship can also sail on the water.” Thompson replied, with a faint smile.

“The cargo plane can’t.” Freya replied, tilting her head to the side, still smiling. “It’ll sink without the emergency floaters.”

“Go!” Thompson thundered, pointing towards the back of the dropship. “Get your ass on your ship, Marine.”

“Oorah, ma’am!” Freya replied, standing at attention and saluting her old Gunny. Freya did so with a smug smile which brought out a smile from her boss before she smartly turned around and ran from her. She could hear the older woman chuckle as she did so.

She had just left the dropship when she spotted Cannon walking up to her. “Magic, hang on a sec. I need to talk to you.” Her new squad leader said, waving her hand.

“Look, I had nothing to do with you losing your team leader position. I just heard. Last I heard was that I was going to lead First team.” Cannon told her as she came to a stop about three feet from Freya.

“The Captain changed it.” Freya told her. “I’m gonna land the plane then jump over to the dropship. Thompson wants me to try and read the alien. If we find one.”

“Yeah, I heard.” Cannon nodded. “Sucks, but I can see her point.”

“Yeah, I can too.” Freya said, sighing.

“There’ll be more fights in the future.” Cannon said with a sad half smile. “Now let’s get this show on the road before Kruz gets too red. I really miss Mother.”

“Yeah, me too.” Freya said as she fell in with Cannon.

Freya did her pre-flight check-offs once she reached the plane, while Cannon went inside to check on what was going on. As she walked around the plane, Freya kept looking over at the ramp as the militia slowly filed into the plane. They looked better armed and armored this time than what she saw at the staging area. This time they wore armor. Most of them were dressed out in medium armor, but a few had heavy armor. None of them, she noted, wore light armor, which kind of made sense. Most infantry that wore light armor were scouts. She didn’t expect many of the militia to have that kind of skill.

Once she was done on the outside she walked up the ramp. She looked to her right, halfway expecting to see a  nameplate mounted on the bulkhead, but, unlike the dropship, the plane didn’t have one. She felt weird flying into battle and not doing her ritual of kissing the nameplate. Then again, she told herself, the plane wasn’t going to last past this mission. The Mechs would see to that.

Speaking of Mechs, she had noted when she was fixing the generators that the six Mechs that were still onboard had been moved so that they were more spaced out. There was at least four feet between them now, whereas, on the previous flight, they were packed in with very little room between each other. They were also turned to their sides. Before, they had all been stacked facing the ramp. Someone had gone in and turned them so that they were facing the sides of the plane. They were rotated so that for each one that faced the port side of the plane the next one would face the starboard side and so on.

As she followed the line of militia down the cargo area of the plane she passed the diplomatic marines who had taken the seats closest to the ramp. She knew they would be the first out so it made sense that they were packed on closest to the exit. The militia members would follow soon afterwards, or at least that was the plan. There were two lines of militia members entering the plane. One on each side of the Mechs. They were using the fold-down seats on the side of the plane.

Once the line ended, Freya was able to move to the cockpit’s open door. She noted that Monkeyman and BT were sitting on the jump seats just outside the door. Monkeyman looked really pissed.

“Hey, ma shiv. You staying behind is so woozy it’s borderline fun fingers. They dink they can kes you, but Monkeyman knows it's all somesuch.”

“What?” Freya asked, completely confused.

“He’s saying that the idea of you staying behind is stupid. He also thinks it won’t last because you’re too good to.” BT said, with a sigh. Freya wondered how he got that from what Monkeyman spouted.

“That’s wha’ I said.” Monkeyman said, his accent getting thicker the more he talked.

“As much as I hate to say this, they might be right this time.” Freya told him with a soft smile, touched that he was getting angry on her behalf. “Don’t worry. I’ll get in this fight somehow. Trust me.”

“That’s ma shiv.” He said as his expression changed from angry to being sly. “You gonna go punkin-killa on them.” Freya looked to BT to translate.

“I think he means that you are going to go behind someone’s back?” BT replied, shrugging.

“Who says you can’t talk the talk?” Monkeyman said, smiling at Lurch.

“You got it right?” Freya guessed.

“Something like that.” BT replied, giving Monkeyman a what-the-hell look.

“Magic, get in here.” Cannon yelled out from inside the cockpit. “Kruz is on my butt. She wants us ready to go in two minutes.”

Freya nodded her head and walked through the open door to the cockpit. She spotted Lurch sitting in the navigator's seat, while Cannon was sitting in the copilot’s seat. She quickly sat down and started the final preflight checkoffs. Everything was green, so she started the generators up. Once they were up and running, she turned on the engines, warming them up. She checked the feed of the cargo area. She waited a few seconds for the last few people to sit down then closed the ramp. Once she was done, she ramped up her engines and got ready to take off.

“B396, C101.” Freya said over the radio. She used her armor’s radio instead of the handheld mic on the plane's main panel. Normally she would have to use the handheld mic because it would record everything she said on the crash box, but since no one expected the plane to survive the battle she didn’t care what was going to happen to the crash box.

“Go for C101.” Fred’s voice said, coming over her cockpit speakers.

“Ready when you are.” Freya told him.

“Lifting off now.” He told her. “Keep in my shadow. Boss doesn’t want to take chances with a faulty generator.”

“Sounds good to me.” Freya told him with a smile on her face even if he couldn’t see it. “Staying in your shadow.”

On her screens she watched as the dropship lifted off and moved to hover over her. She increased the power to the engines and started rolling forward. The dropship followed above her. She increased the power a bit more. The plane started going faster. Soon she was at takeoff speed and pulled on the yoke. The plane responded and started to lift upwards nose first. Freya felt the G forces as she increased the engine power once more. The plane lifted off and she angled it so that she followed Fred as he kept the dropship about fifteen feet above her. She hated to admit it, but she knew Fred was getting better as a pilot.

No one said anything in the cockpit as Freya flew just under the dropship. Outside the cockpit, Freya could hear Monkeyman and BT speaking. It was all incomprehensible gibberish, but they seemed to understand each other. Cannon sat in the copilot’s seat looking out the window while Lurch had his head buried in the consoles to his right. Freya had no idea what he was doing, as nothing he did came up on her screens. She ignored him, telling herself that as long as nothing bad happened to the plane she really didn’t care. Time slowly passed as they flew over the ocean.

“Coming up to the factory.” Fred told her over the radio. Everyone in the cockpit perked up. “How’s your generators looking?”

“All green.” She told him after checking. “They never flickered during the entire flight.”

“Okay. The sea state looks rough. I’m getting waves from ten to fifteen feet. What do you see?” He asked her.

“My sensors suck.” Freya told him. “At this height, I can’t see what's happening below me without looking out the window.”

“Can you pick it out if you get closer?” He asked her.

“Yeah.” She replied. “You want me to follow you under?”

“No. The captain doesn’t trust your generators.” He replied. “Can you land on the ocean with waves this big?”

“Not for long.” She told him.

“Okay, here's the plan.” He told her. “Drop back about a mile or so. I’m going to go under in two. I’ll drop my people off then, right at the factory. Then I’ll stay in the area to cover them. Drop your marines off first then circle back to drop the militia. If you can, land on the ocean and have the Mechs drop. While they do that, you eject. We will come for you.”

“Drop the marines off at the kiddy pool, then circle back with the militia.” She told him. “Find a way to get the Mechs off me before I go swimming in my escape pod.”

“Captain says don’t die. That’s an order.” Fred said over the radio, sounding amused.

“Roger, no dying.” Freya replied as she started to decrease the power to her engines while she raised her flaps to reduce her speed.

Turning to her team in the cockpit, Freya said, “You guys might want to get ready. Show the diplomats how it's done.”

“You know they’re diplomatic guards. Not diplomats themselves, right?” Lurch said, spinning his chair so he could face her.

“Diplomacy is just war by other means.” Freya misquoted.

“Team three, on me.” Cannon said, ignoring Freya and Lurch as she stood up and walked out of the cockpit.

Lurch stood up and followed after his team leader. Freya watched them go, feeling sad. It was the first time since she had boarded the October that they would be fighting without her. She really wanted to chuck the plan and follow them out, but she knew what was at stake. Her job was something different this time. She needed to get information out of a Ketica. If there was one there, that is. She hoped the Captain picked the right place. If not, a lot of people were going to die for nothing.

She turned back to her screens to see the dropship move ahead of her and slowly drop into the ocean below. She followed them down, trying to get to drop altitude. It wasn’t long until she watched Fed once again show his powers as a pilot as the dropship disappeared into the ocean without mishap. The dropship easily slipped into a wave and then the only way she could track it was on her mini map.

She checked the distance and started to drop further towards the towering waves below her. She could see them now that she was flying roughly five hundred feet and dropping slowly. Her plan was to get to fifty feet and drop the marines, then circle back and drop the militia. She had no idea how she was going to land in the ocean with the chaotic ocean below her.

As she got to her drop height she started lowering the ramp. “Thirty seconds, first drop.” She said over the plane’s coms. She kept an eye out for rogue waves. The last thing she wanted to do is to be hit by a fifty-foot wave coming out of nowhere.

“Ten seconds, first drop.” She called over the ship's radio. She looked at the feed as she counted the time down. Her team was at the top of the ramp clustered together. As soon as she got to zero, they jumped as one.

“Good luck, guys.” She whispered to herself.

The diplomatic marines followed her team out in three lines. The last few of them dropped a bit late, just outside the dropzone. She hoped they could get back into the action before it all ended. The militia, she was glad to see, remained in their seats waiting on her instructions. She did note that the Mech pilots were also waiting for the order to board their Mechs.

At their current height and speed, the civilian Mechs wouldn’t survive the drop. They didn’t have enough armor to survive a fall right now. The safest option was for them to remain seated until they started to come in for a landing before boarding the Mechs. If something happened before then, they were to jump, leaving the Mechs behind. Freya spotted Mon sitting by the other pilots looking at ease. She bit her lip and wished him luck as well. She turned back as she started to get close to the dropzone again.

“Second drop, twenty seconds.” She called out again over the plane’s radio.

She watched as the militia leaders stood up and motioned for their people to stand as well. They quickly formed four lines starting near the ramp. There were more militia members than all the marines combined. She hoped that most of them would make it, but was worried about their ability to fight underwater.

She lowered her height and slowed the plane down as she got close to their drop. She knew the marines could handle a drop from fifty feet, but the unmodded militia members couldn't. She counted them down starting at ten. At zero they started jumping.

Right away she knew there was going to be a problem as they were moving too slowly towards the exit. There were wide spaces between them which slowed them further down. The militia leaders tried to hurry them up, but it wasn’t working all that well.

“At least no one is refusing to drop.” She told herself, right before one of the militia members balked at the exit door. She was glad to see one of the militia officers yank the man out of the way, and push the line forward. Still, it slowed the line down even further.

Then it happened. Her sensors screamed at her and she looked down to see a rogue wave heading right at her. Cursing her luck, she pulled up while yelling for the militia members to brace themselves. Their inexperience showed as a bunch of people didn’t brace themselves well enough. Those who didn’t brace themselves correctly crashed into each other and others. Freya watched helplessly as half of the remaining militia members, including all the officers at the top of the ramp, fell out the back and disappeared into the huge wave below them.

Freya cursed and cursed again as the wave passed harmlessly below them, but she was out of position for the rest of the drop. Cursing the wave once more, she turned around and tried to get back into position. She couldn’t do anything to help those who fell. All she could do was hope they survived the fall and could make it back to the battle.

“Delay the drop. We are out of position. New drop in six seconds.” She yelled over the radio as she watched the remaining militia members get back to their feet. To her frustration, the remaining militia members crowded around each other. They didn’t reform their lines.

“Get into position!” She yelled at them, but they ignored her.

Then she spotted Mon standing up. She had no idea what he was saying, but he quickly had them reforming their lines. She didn’t have time to count them down so she just told them to drop. Only one jumped. The others froze at the top of the ramp. Mon came to the rescue once more as he picked up the closest militia member and literally threw the guy out of the plane. The rest still didn’t jump right away until he grabbed another guy. Then they started jumping again.

“Magic, where are my Mechs?!” Captain Thompson suddenly yelled over the radio.

“Had to dodge a rogue wave. The militia are still dropping.” She told her boss.

“I need those Mechs!” Thompson yelled. “Stop the drop and get those Mechs off the plane.”

“Understood.” She responded as she started looking for somewhere she could put the plane down.

“All Mech pilots to your Mechs! Everyone else, get strapped in. We’re going in!” Freya yelled over the plane's radio. She hit the button to close the ramp. She took a quick peek at the militia members and noted that she still had about twenty to thirty of them in the back of her ship. A few ignored her order and jumped as the ramp closed. The rest ran to their seats, securing themselves in. Mon and the rest of the pilots ran for their Mechs and got in.

She found a second rogue wave and got a crazy idea. She turned to the wave and started following it. She tried her best to match its speed as she came upon it. Hoping her crazy plan worked, she raised the nose of the plane while lowering the back end of the plane. Her alarms screamed at her at the stupid manoeuvre. Freya took a deep breath as she sped the plane up a bit, then it was too late to do anything else as the tail hit the wave, yanking the nose down onto the back of the wave.

“All Mechs, prepare to drop!” She yelled as the plane rose on the back of the wave towards the top of it. “Five seconds!” She yelled as the nose of the plane rose up above the wave. She pushed a button. The door behind her closed and locked itself.

“Four seconds!” She yelled as the nose of the plane rose further out over the wave.

“Three seconds.” She yelled as the cockpit of the plane was now sticking straight up over the wave.

“Two seconds!” She yelled as gravity started to pull the nose back down towards the wave.

“Militia, stay secured until the plane fills up with water then get out!” She yelled as the nose of the plane started to tilt downwards. Freya took a second to tighten her straps as the rest of the plane crested the wave.

“Mechs out!” She yelled, as the plane started falling down the wave.

“All Mechs up!” Mon’s voice called out over the radio. In the cargo hold, Freya watched the Mechs stand up, tearing the roof as they did so.

“Move out.” Mon called out once more over the radio.

They didn’t move together right away. Mon’s Mech moved first and tore right through the bulkhead, then vanished as a huge wave of water started pouring into the cargo hold. It took about two seconds for the rest of them to follow him out. The last Mech almost didn’t make it as the cargo hold quickly filled up with water. The water pushed the Mech sideways a bit so it was angled about thirty degrees from its original position. The pilot turned out to be very talented, and he used the momentum to push himself through the bulkhead.

Freya was pushed forward as the wall of water crashed through her door. The door itself stayed attached to the doorframe somehow, but it was unable to keep the rushing water from filling the cockpit in seconds. Freya reached beside her seat and felt the wire handle of the escape pod.

“All militia, evacuate!” She yelled into her radio, taking one last look at the feed of the cargo area. To her surprise, only one person was still in there. She saw some holes where some of the Militia members had only moments before been sitting in their seats. Large sections of the bulkhead, including the chairs that had been attached to them, were gone.

She yanked on the wire as she watched the last militia member struggle with his seatbelt. She knew he wouldn’t drown because of his armor, but he still could be crushed when the plane hit the bottom of the ocean. The escape pod closed over her, and two things seemed to happen at once, but really happened within .5 seconds of each other.

First, the roof above her blew up and away from her and the escape pod maneuvering engines went off, hurtling her in her small pod upwards. The only problem was that the nose of the ship had dipped into the ocean, and the roof didn’t separate far enough. The pod hit the roof and Freya was slammed forward then backwards as the maneuvering engines pushed the pod further upwards. The last thing she saw before everything went dark was the militia member in the cargo area still struggling in his seat while the plane broke apart all around him as it fell deeper into the darkness of the ocean.