Homecoming

            Drigondii
Sheii’Cronell stood at the front of the bridge of the TAS Dragon King and
looked down on the planet that he hadn’t considered home for years. He had
thrown Earth aside long ago along with his old life. There was nothing left for
him on that pathetic Level IV planet.

            “Orders,
sir?” The admiral behind Drigondii was apparently fed up with his dawdle-some
contemplation. And Drigondii had once thought Earth life to be too high-paced.
But he had wasted thirty whole seconds, and it wouldn’t be long before someone
tried to fire an ICBM at one of the 20 ten-mile-long ships he now had stationed
in Earth’s orbit.

            “Right,”
Drigondii pulled himself back to the present. “Begin the EM assault and notify
the chief that I’ll need those fighters prepped before I hit the flight deck.”

            “Right away,
sir!” As the admiral relayed the orders, Drigondii began the long trip to the
flight deck at the rear of the Dragon King. There were shuttles for ambassadors
directly below the bridge, but he knew too many Earthers to think that they
wouldn’t try to shoot him down before he hit the stratosphere. He would need a
ship capable of dodging bullets, and there were none better for the job than
the Dragon 52-Fs. He still remembered the first day of flight school when
everyone had laughed at the concept of so-called deflector shields…

            “You’ve got
quite the imagination, Excellency,” Lieutenant Civos had said when the Monarch
had suggested the idea of an energy shield surrounding a ship that could alter
the momentum of external projectiles. “That’d waste way too much energy, even
if it could be done. Besides, it’d be easier to just hype ’em out of the way,
and I don’t know a single fighter that can power external hypes without burning
out.”

            At this,
Drigondii had decided to shut up and pay more attention to dodging techniques.

            “Excellency?
Sir? I said you could get in the pulse-car now, sir. Ready to go… Unless you
were planning on walking across the whole ship?” The young ensign looked a bit
concerned for Drigondii’s health. Then Drigondii realized that he had been
walking next to the car, which was more of a maglev monorail, for a good five
minutes.

            “Sorry about that, uh…
Ensign Carden. Just got lost in thought for a second.” Drigondii got in the car
and strapped into the seat right next to the young officer, who had obviously
not expected him to do so. “So, why’d you join the Armada, Ensign? You seem
overly patient for an Armadian.”

            “My
apologies, Excellency. I grew up on Valhal, sir, and we have much longer days.
There’s more time to get things done during the day.”

            “Isn’t the
Valhallan day about 23 hours long? How is that a long day at all?” Drigondii remembered the 24-hour days of Earth. How long they seemed now. He hadn’t had more than 18 hours in a day in years. In that respect, he supposed 23 hours was a rather long time. “Anyway, we should get going.”

            The ensign nodded. “Aye, sir.” Carden rotated against the throttle, and they were off. It was only a matter of minutes after that to get to the hangar bay.

            Upon his arrival, Drigondii remembered why he loved this part of the ship so much. The deck was stained with lubricant, there was a constant noise of men shouting, tools grinding, and drives winding up. It was almost like being back on Earth. He headed to the nearest wound-up Dragon and started up the ladder.

            “Good luck, sir!” Carden’s excitement was apparent in his voice as he looked up at Drigondii. Drigondii smiled back, and set his subframe into its respective port into the cockpit, climbing in as the OS came to life. He could see the others in his squadron were already prepped and waiting for him.

            “Dragon King actual, this is Dragon One. All conditions are green. Ready for exohype.” Drigondii held his breath after the last word. He hated this part.

            “Dragon One, Dragon King actual. All green, aye. Exohype approved. Good luck, Dragons.” The radio lit up shortly as the other six pilots exchanged yelps and cheers, prepping for the most exciting moment of their lives. Then it was time. “Hype in three, two, one!” All seven pilots slammed their hype activators simultaneously as they hyped out of the hangar.

            The familiarity of a hype does not aide in its discomfort. That feeling of implosion and simultaneous explosion always made Drigondii’s heart race. Suddenly, he was out of the Dragon King and over the Earth’s vast sky. Five, four, three, two, one…

            The roar of entry fire surrounded his ship. He angled down more so that he may see his trajectory. His display showed that he was on track, straight into a large electrical storm approaching the eastern American seaboard.

            Drigondii prepped the radio to hail the UN’s headquarters in New York, where a summit was taking place at that very moment. This was it. He was back, and things were about to get very interesting.