Angel Strike (Jack of Harts 3)

By Medron Pryde

In 2205, we learned the answer to one of the oldest questions of all time. Are we alone? They brought medicines with them that nearly wiped out diseases, and extended the human lifespan into the centuries. They helped us study advanced technologies, and expand our colonies hundreds of lightyears from Earth. It was a golden age that many thought would never end.

Then their enemies brought War to us all. We gave them a belly full of it. We drove them out of Alpha Centauri and assembled the largest, most powerful fleet that had ever flown under Terran banners. Third Fleet was our best hope to defeat them and bring a quick end to The War. Their first strike was at Epsilon Reticuli. It failed.

In the aftermath of Epsilon Reticuli, the heavy cruiser Los Angeles leads the remnants of her squadron back to Alliance space with information that could change The War forever. But Los Angeles will soon find that the enemy has not been idle while Third Fleet sailed, and returning home will be far more difficult than she or her crew ever imagined.

First Printing, May 2015
Revised Second Printing, August 2017

• Language: English
• Publisher: Medron Pryde
• Release date: Aug 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370719464

Medron Pryde

Hello, my name is Medron Pryde, and I am the creator of Jack of Harts.Jack of Harts is a place I hope you like. It’s a place where we did things right, where we built a world we would be happy for our children to grow up in. It’s not perfect. There is conflict. But by and large, we made the hard decisions, and we did what needed doing. We made a good world. I know today that stories tend to go much more dark than that, dystopian futures where we have destroyed our world or enslaved our populations. Places where even the Good Guys are more dirty and hairy than they are clean-shaven and happy. Jack of Harts is not like that. It’s not a world where somebody takes a step forward to fix something and gets knocked two steps back. I don’t like those worlds. I don’t want to spend a lot of time imagining them.Jack of Harts is based in many ways on what I grew up wanting. I was raised in a Christian home, told to do onto others as you’d have them do onto you. I watched Bonanza, where the Cartwrights helped anybody who came along needing it. On Superman, I watched the Big Blue Boy Scout (even if he was in black and white) fighting the Bad Guys each week for Truth, Justice, and the American Way. On Quantum Leap, a man lost in time always found a way to make the world he dropped into each week a little bit better. On Star Trek, a bunch of people I liked traveled through the stars to go places that no man had been to before...because it was there. In Battlestar Galactica, Buck Rogers, and Star Wars, the plucky outnumbered heroes came back swinging with a smile, a joke, and a hearty laugh, and they never gave up hope that they could find or build a better world to live in. These are the stories I grew up with. These are what I enjoy, and these live on in my optimism.In Jack of Harts, I try to capture that. The characters of Jack, Charles, and Aneerin, just to name a few, are all people who lived in a world before The War came. When that happened, they aren’t the people who crossed the border to hide from the draft, the people who gave up hope and found a bottle or a needle to hide behind. These are the people who stood up, walked into a recruiting office, and volunteered to defend their ways of life. They may cover it up by saying they’re just in it for the money, or because that person over there just needed taking care of. But don’t let that fool you. They are the best of us, a reflection of the true Big Damn Heroes who grab a rifle, a pistol, and a bulletproof vest (or maybe a fireproof suit) to protect our freedoms and our lives everyday.Jack of Harts is a place where I like to think these people would like what they see. It’s a place I enjoy going to when I write, with people I’d like to share a beer with. I’ll keep it that way. I hope it’s a place you’ll enjoy reading, and I hope you come back each day or maybe each week to read some more.So have a good one, and I hope to see you again.Medron Pryde

Book preview

The Wang Chung Five lifted above the ridge and Natalie and Jasmine opened up, sending autocannon rounds, streams of machinegun fire, laser beams, and missiles streaking between the combatants. Stray rounds ricocheted off the tank’s armor, flying off into the sky or burning into the dirt.

The tank’s nose crossed the ridge, came down as the whole tank oriented to fire down the ridge, and the guns began to return fire. Machineguns and lasers streaked back at the cybers and the drainage ditch’s rim exploded. Dust and explosions filled the air and obscured vision. Even Jack’s armor had trouble seeing into the manmade hell of that firestorm and Jack squinted, hoping to see something the Hellhound’s sensors missed.

Then Natalie’s body flew backwards and fell into the ditch. Smoke rose from a dozen holes in her arms and torso. Her head was just gone and sparks emanated from the shattered body. Jasmine’s Cerberus followed a second later and her landing shook the ground around them. Both her arms were gone now and several holes went straight through the armored chest. Jack swallowed and nodded towards Jesse. It was just about time.

Gentleman, Jack said with a nod towards Jesse as the tank’s gravplating maneuvered it towards the drainage ditch. Ladies. He smiled towards Katy and the cybernetic holoforms flickering around them. It has been an honor and a pleasure.

Roger that, Boss, Katy returned.

I’ve got your back, Boss, Jesse added.

Wind whipped the dust away and sensors picked up the tank again as it moved forward with effortless grace.

By

Medron Pryde

###

Books

###

Forge of War

Angel Flight

Angel Strike

Angel War

Wolfenheim Rising

###

Short Stories

###

The Gemini Affair

ANGEL STRIKE

A Jack of Harts Novella By

MEDRON PRYDE

Copyright © 2015-2017 by Medron Pryde

Smashwords Edition

Cover background designed by Stephen Huda under contract

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Published in the United States of America

First Printing, May 2015

Second Printing, August 2017

http://jackofharts.com

http://www.facebook.com/jackofhartsonline

Dedication

I would like to dedicate this story to everyone who has served in the Armed Forces. It is thanks to all of you that we are here now, to enjoy this form of entertainment in the safety of our homes. I would especially like to thank every Marine aviator of Marine Fighter Attack Squadron 112, called the Wolfpack in World War II and the Cowboys in recent decades. The Cowboys in this story are named in your honor.

I would also like to thank everybody who has helped me write this story, from those who brainstormed with me, proofread it for me, edited it, created art to bring it to life, or simply declined to roll your eyes when I nattered on about this story I was writing. Whether family or friend, whether I have met you in person or only over the Internet, your help and support is greatly appreciated.

Angel Strike

Table of Contents

Resolute

Valiant

Relentless

Tenacious

Dauntless

Audacious

Adamant

Emergent

Ascendant

Author Afterward

Angel War Preview

We took a drubbing at Epsilon Reticuli but we blew their trap to kingdom come and got out. Then we had to make for Serenity. Serenity had yards to repair our ships, heavy defensive fleets, and powerful orbital forts. She was a Western Alliance Core World, an immovable fortress in the stars, a safe haven in even the most dangerous of times. We would be safe when we got there. We’d escaped the trap and were home free. There was nothing to worry about, right? Right.

Resolute

He awoke with a yawn so powerful his jaw nearly locked open. Tears filled his eyes and he stretched his left arm and right leg as far as the limbs would go. Toes and fingers quivered in time to each other and electricity ran up and down his spine. Finally he collapsed back into the small bunk and luxuriated in the feel of freshly moving muscles. Then he stretched the other leg until it quivered and moved his right arm up to give it the full early morning treatment.

The stretching exercise ended when his right hand hit something. Someone. He froze, wondering what someone else was doing in his bunk. Then the faint smell of chamomile registered.

He smiled and laid a hand on Natalie’s bare leg. The boy who earned the name Jack had awoken to many crowded beds so that part at least was old hat. The last two years had changed Captain Jack’s priorities, but this was one girl he would never kick out. Well, she was sitting on his bunk rather than lying in it if he was being honest. He might be tempted to embellish a bit in his memoirs though. Waking up next to a beautiful young lady sounded so much better in a story, after all.

Jack opened his eyes to see a flower-print sundress that looked like a refugee from a fashion show stopping just above his hand. Not that he’d watched many fashion shows since Julie and Alex left to follow their dreams. Jack swung his eyes up to Natalie’s raven-black hair and the starkly beautiful face that could have shamed even the best Russian models. He’d loved watching Russian models running around in the wild back in the day. She raised an eyebrow at him and he had the feeling she knew every thought in his head.

Well, hello beautiful, he said with a winning smile and patted the cybernetic intelligence’s android leg. It was a true body rather than the holoform most cybers used when dealing with their pilots. Not that she would ever have the opportunity of speaking with her pilot ever again. Jack pushed that thought away and kept his smile warm. He wasn’t about to try to bring her down this early in the morning.

Hello, Jack, she answered with an amused smile.

What brings you here this fantastic morning? he asked shamelessly and she chuckled.

"Well, you did have an alarm set for an hour out of Serenity." Her expression bespoke genuine humor with him. She was in her best mood since Epsilon Reticuli.

Ah, Jack muttered and cleared his throat of early morning phlegm, determined to keep thoughts of that battle off his face. You volunteered?

I drew the short straw. Natalie returned with a perfectly straight face.

Jack affected a wounded look and placed a hand over his heart. Oh, you wound me.

Natalie just laughed again. I somehow think you’ll get over it. But you should hurry.

Jack wiped drool off his cheek and made a production of rolling his shoulders out of their sleep. Well, I do need a shower, he said, looking up at her with a raised eyebrow.

Natalie smiled at the suggestion Then I suppose I should leave you alone to deal with that. She leaned forward and came to her feet with a single smooth motion that brought her out from under his hand.

He reached out and grabbed her hand though. She stopped and met his suddenly serious eyes with a questioning look. How are you? he asked.

She sighed at the question he asked every day. I’m better today than yesterday.

Any day you can wake up saying that…

Is a good day, Natalie finished their daily tradition.

Jack aimed a serious nod towards her. That’s right.

Natalie sighed. "Now you really do need to hurry, Natalie said with another smile. Unless you want to explain to Captain Wyatt why you’re late," she added with a wicked glint.

Oh! Jack exclaimed and rolled out of his bunk in a smooth procession of windmilling limbs that sent his blanket flying into the air above them. He’d nearly made it to the small head, and the blanket was settling back down on the bunk, when a single word stopped him in his tracks.

Jack?

He turned to see Natalie giving him a soft look. Yes?

Thank you.

Jack nodded and tipped an imaginary hat towards her. My pleasure, Ma’am.

She shook her head in amusement and left his tiny cabin.

He stood there alone, thinking on those simple words. A few days ago, she’d been ready to shut down forever. Now she was thanking him. That was an amazing change and he couldn’t move as he considered just how important it was. Maybe she was truly ready to live now. Just maybe.

Jack? Betty’s voice asked from his earbud, springing him from his trance.

Yeah?

Shower? the cyber he truly belonged to asked in a pointed tone.

Jack blinked. Right, he said and turned to deal with that.

Jack splurged on a hot water shower instead of the sonic showers most people used. Sonics did Bad Things to ears as sensitive as his, so he watered up, toweled off, and stepped out of the tiny head to find his uniform waiting for him, pressed and cleaned by the ship’s overnight cleaners. He nodded his approval, grabbed the Republic of Texas Marine Corps service shirt, and slid into it with a smooth motion. Service trousers came next, with a decidedly non-regulation deer head belt buckle staring out of the regulation belt. He pulled the black cowboy boots on next, hearing the faint jingling of not-quite-decorative spurs.

Finally he stuffed himself into the brown leather flight jacket and dropped the regulation black Stetson on his head. Fingers ran through the Peloran-regulation length long blonde hair that stuck out from beneath it with pleasure and shook his head. A quick examination of his reflection in the mirror met with approval. A member of the Texas Marine Corps Fighter Wing 112, the Cowboys, always had to be ready to give the right impression to all the pretty girls first thing in the morning. And the man returning his gaze in the mirror looked…fantastic.

A cybernetic holoform flickered into being next to him and stared at the reflection. She always looked best on one of her blonde hair and blue-eyed days. It was how he’d first met her and it just looked right to him. He turned to examine her vaguely Scandinavian features more closely than the mirror allowed and smiled at her. Her digital form stood in stark contrast to the analog world around them to his sensitive eyes. Even the edges of her yellow sundress seemed to stop far more suddenly than anything he’d seen in the Northern Minnesota nature he’d grown up with.

The cyber turned towards him and in that smile he saw oh so many of the girls he’d grown up with. His heart actually skipped a beat as he saw her. Natalie was beautiful. Very few would disagree with that. But Betty was something else entirely. She was his. And he was hers. She was the perfect partner.

Betty nodded in approval and looked towards the hatch with a questioning eyebrow.

Yeah, he answered her wordless question and squeezed around her to walk out of his tiny cabin. The corridor was full of crewmen moving in the early shipboard morning. Serenity was near and the crew was coming to stations just in case. A flash of color caught his attention and a smaller version of Betty appeared on his shoulder. Now that they were out of his cabin her twenty-centimeter small form wore the same service uniform he did, with the exception of the skirt that looked much better on her than it would on him. Jack reached up to place a hand on his shoulder next to her and a doll-sized hand soon rested on it. They exchanged a quick gaze and walked through the rabbit-warren of corridors with the ship’s crew.

He found a lift and filed into it along with several other crewmembers. They filled every spare centimeter of the small space and Jack glanced at Betty with a raised eyebrow. She nodded in confirmation that she had already informed the lift of their destination. He turned his head to smile at the other members of the crew. Several of them smiled back, though as usual they didn’t know what to make of him.

Like most naval crewers they were, well, naval personnel. He was different from them in three ways. First he was a Marine, trained in one of the hardest boot camps in creation to inflict physical mayhem. They were trained to operate computer displays on a starship. Secondly, he was a fighter pilot. He fought the enemy alone in a tiny fighter while they served with hundreds of their fellows on a heavy cruiser. At best he could count on the support of other fighter pilots and craft, but fighters always engaged the enemy on the knife-edge of combat between life and death. Warships rarely engaged in the kinds of close combat that fighters gloried in.

Finally, he was one of the literal one in a million members of the human race whose body had reacted in the rarest of ways to the Peloran Treatments. He moved faster, he could lift more, and eyes of the eagle had more truth than hyperbole in his case. And while his nose did not compare to a bloodhound he could smell far better than many dogs. He could quite literally smell the tension in the lift from crewers who did not know what they would find on the other side of the hyperspace wall.

In another life that ended with the Shang strike that brought Yosemite Yards down all over his hometown, Jack had been just one of many college slackers studiously wasting his potential. He’d studied liberal arts, history, music, and girls, and not at all in that order. Now he was a Marine. He spent most of his time wearing the façade of the college slacker he’d perfected in that other life, but everyone in the lift knew he wasn’t that harmless. He wasn’t one of them.

He was a Marine. He was a fighter pilot. He was a gengineered supersoldier, even if it was an accident. And his shoulder-length hair branded him a Cowboy, member of the only American fighter unit serving under Peloran command. He was different from them and even those who smiled back at him betrayed a hint of nerves in their smell, their stance, and their eyes.

The bridge proved one of the lift’s first stops and four crewers stepped out into the roomy compartment, Jack following almost precisely on their heals. He smelled the relief running through those remaining behind as the lift door closed and watched the new arrivals stride over to vacant stations. But the smell of stress heightened rather than went away. Jack scanned the bridge to see every duty station filled and another quick glance showed they were operating at alert status. They weren’t at general quarters, but his eyes flicked over consoles filled with warnings and questions. Something odd was going on.

Betty made a show of looking around and jumping off his shoulder. She grew to normal size on the way down and the holoemitters in his uniform powered up to take the extra load of her larger form. She shook her head and