Hawk Flight (Flight of the Hawk Book 3)

by Robert Little

  Two hundred was doable.

  At six million kilometers distance to target they came into light missile range of the enemy, which had accelerated and decelerated all the way. The Federals launched two hundred missiles, and a minute later, another one hundred and eighty, or half of their total. They’d launched at the extreme limit of their missile envelopes, hoping that the large relative closing velocity of the two fleets would compensate for the minimal maneuvering time left on their motors. The split launch would help mask the second flight, allowing it to get in closer before detection.

  Their original plans were to go to acceleration once they came into contact with the enemy, but they hadn’t envisaged such a large response so early. The Federal fighters were therefore decelerating so at to be able to shield the fragile destroyers.

  At seventy thousand kilometers the Bug fighters began lasing the incoming missiles. At fifty thousand they began hitting them hard enough to detonate them, large numbers of them. All two hundred of the first launch were destroyed and only seven of the second got through, destroying five fighters, an abysmal performance.

  The destroyers, one hundred thousand kilometers behind, radioed, “You have two more flights of fighters hiding behind the first.” The lead pilot asked, “How many?” The destroyer reported, “We can’t tell, they are deliberately hiding behind the lead group, but possibly another two hundred, possibly more. Recommend that we break off the attack.”

  The pilot asked, “How did they manage that? We didn’t see them.” The destroyer said, “The second group accelerated first, at a lower rate, shut down and the first group passed them and hid them with their gravity drives. Very sneaky maneuver.”

  The pilot said, “Concur. We’re aborting.”

  They firewalled their drives, hoping to reverse course before they could get trapped between the two groups, both as large or larger than their own.

  The destroyers were doing the same thing, but they were only capable of eight to nine G’s, far less than any fighter.

  Within thirty minutes the Bug fighters came within effective energy weapon range. The Dash 4’s were hampered by their lower acceleration and were now out in front of the smaller fighters.

  The pitch-black emptiness of space lit up with repeated lashes of coherent light. Within moments, a Federal fighter began to tumble and exploded.

  The Bug fighters came within range of the Federals own energy weapons about the same time as the federals began moving back toward their ship. They were trying to avoid any more maneuvering than necessary. A second Dash 4 disappeared in an ugly boil of light, then a third. Two Dash 4’s targeted a Bug fighter, exploding it, but a fourth Federal was hit and began tumbling.

  The straining formation left a trail of debris and silent explosions. The second group of Bug fighters came up into energy weapon range and added their fire to the first. Three more Federals were destroyed, then two Bugs.

  A group of Bug fighters pushed toward the covering Dash 6’s and at long range began trading fire with the vastly underpowered Federals. The destroyers sent powerful beams back, but they were effectively still out of range.

  The third formation of Bug fighters flashed through the mass of fighters and began directly engaging the six destroyers. The six ships tucked as close as possible to each other and exploded first one, then another Bug, but they were absorbing a great deal of punishment. Finally, an energy beam hit an engine room, exploding a destroyer.

  Two minutes later a second destroyer broke in two and exploded.

  As they approached the three carriers the covering fighters made a massive launch of nearly three hundred missiles, and the Federals finally released their remaining two missiles, adding another roughly three hundred.

  The Bugs immediately reversed their engines in an attempt to give them more time to engage the missiles. Within moments the Federals began to open up a gap that quickly grew. The missies homed in on the very hot Bug fighters, but very few were getting through.

  The three carriers were moving away from the melee and continued to accelerate.

  The Bugs came to a stop, relative to the Federal carriers and began moving back toward their now far distant formation, possibly fearing they had deliberately been moved out of position. Three Bug fighters were hit and destroyed, but there were as many fighters as missiles and they were able to target each missile multiple times. The large numbers of missiles however, seemed to convince them to break off their attack and return to their now distant formation.

  Within an hour the surviving Federal fighters were docked inside the three carriers, which continued to accelerate away from the Bug formation.

  After another three hours, the escorts docked and the carriers and four remaining destroyers jumped out.

  They’d lost twenty-two fighters and two destroyers. Amazingly, one fighter crew had been rescued. It was from the Krakow, whose fighters had performed significantly better than those from the other two carriers.

  Admiral Tretiakov went down to the flight decks and talked to his crews. He congratulated them on their performance and when pressed, admitted, “We failed in our attempt to get into missile range of the enemy, yet we learned a great deal today, including that our Dash 4 fighters are a match for theirs. We need to develop better tactics and continue to improve both our equipment and weapons, but I strongly believe that the men and women who stand with me today are the best pilots and navigators in the known universe, and I am proud to serve at your side.”

  He waved and returned to the bridge.

  Chapter 45

  Chief Elliot Kana, DE/M Stone

  Kana received a message from Admiral Lee’s aide, the one Elian referred to as ‘Lt. LL’ - Lieutenant Long Legs. The first time he heard it, Robert laughed, “Alien, you’ve finally succumbed to the military mind set.” Elian sadly shook his head, “Robot Robert, you wear the same exact clothing to work every day, you stand to attention when old guys enter your office, the same guys who order you to spend your time around people who try to shoot your best friend, and you criticize me for praising a co-worker’s best asset? You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  By now, Kana had grown accustomed to the two men and their nearly constant banter. He routinely sadly shook his head, but secretly enjoyed their efforts to deal with the intense pressure they faced.

  He quickly left the ship, presently docked in one of the immense underground hangers, and hitched a ride on a scooter to the admiral’s office. He didn’t change into a clean uniform, assuming the admiral preferred on-time dirty to tardy cleanliness.

  He had to wait for ten minutes while the admiral chewed someone out. He knew that was happening because he could hear it, even through the closed door. Kana listened carefully and smiled, Admiral Lee really knew how to verbally flay an incompetent officer, managing the deed without using one proscribed word, or, for that matter, any words of less than three syllables. Admiral Lee was an excellent communicator.

  A full captain exited the office, looking a bit the worse for wear, and Kana was waved in.

  The admiral was at a side table, getting a cup of coffee. He waved a casual greeting to the enlisted man and pointed at the service. He sat down and waited while Kana got a cup.

  Admiral Lee said, “I’m sending your two officers to Earth. We’ve got a prototype of a replacement for the Hawk. It’s called the Kestrel and is about ready for flight-testing, but I’ve heard of some serious issues with acceleration, power and weapons. Robert and Elian are smart, they know what we require and I hope they’ll be able to convince the manufacturer to produce it. We’re close enough that they’ll be able to communicate on a daily basis.”

  He took an agitated sip and continued, “I’ve got an assignment for you. The Stone is about ready to head out for workups, and we’ve got all the others in various stages of renovation. I’m giving your two miscreants the last two, the Grant and the Lee, but they don’t know yet, so please keep this to your self. I’d like you to spend a day on the two ships
. Right about now the engine rooms should be ready to accept the new systems. We’ve worked out the bugs in the capacitor cradles and power feeds, but I have some questions about the manpower requirements, the sensor suite and the mechanical bits and pieces associated with the lasers. My engineers swear they should be good to go, but those systems are old, and we need to know now if they’re up to the task. In fact, those two have been in mothballs the longest of any of the Dresdens.”

  Kana said, “Yes sir.” Admiral Lee smiled, “We won’t be embarking Marines on these ships, so we have the room for some additional personnel. They’re physically about the size of a frigate, and one hundred is roughly correct, but we do have some leeway to increase the complement. We have to know as soon as possible though, as it would require modifications to all ten ships.”

  Kana recognized the end of talking and the beginning of an order, and rose to his feet. He asked, “Anything else sir?” The admiral said, “Come the time I’ll reassign you to one of the two ships – your choice which one. Probably.”

  Kana started to leave, paused and turned back, “Sir do I...mention your name?” Admiral Lee grinned, “More fun if you don’t.” Kana smiled, “...For me. Yes sir.”

  He returned to the Stone, ate a quick meal and used a connecting personnel tunnel to move over to one of the other three hangers. All four shared one immense elevator, and all were hardened in addition to one hundred meters of compressed moon.

  The Grant was one of fourteen destroyers, a unique class of small armored and heavily armed missile destroyers. They utilized the same astronomically expensive armor as the Hawks, designed to protect them against energy weapons, had four light missile launchers fore and aft, and four heavy missiles for offense. Due to severe size constraints the heavy missiles were launched out of tubes, meaning it took thirty minutes to reload.

  The modifications to these ships involved a huge increase in power generation, upping its acceleration from a lethargic literal stone to almost as fast as a Dash 4; those tubes were being replaced by modern launchers that could fire two heavy missiles every thirty seconds. The ship held one hundred of them, meaning it could empty it’s magazine in fifteen minutes. Just one Dresden ought to be able to destroy a Bug mother ship, it would be fast enough to run with fighters and quieter than anything save for the smaller Hawks. Finally, it had ten lasers, meaning it would be a very hard ship to attack.

  The original contract had been for twenty-four ships, but immense cost overruns, virtually all of them having to do with the vendor who designed the coating, coming during a time of peace had killed construction at fourteen. Jupiter Base held ten, Lookout Base on Phobos held the remaining four. Phobos had been closed down a decade earlier, but was being reactivated.

  A Navy crew swarmed over the ship. The missile tubes were now gone, being replaced by the twin belly launchers. One section was open, and Kana could see four workers assembling cradles for the new capacitors. On the other side of that bulkhead new fusion plants were already in place. One worker was up on top of the one hundred ten meter long ship, removing one of the laser rods. It’s original lenses were twenty-five centimeters, the same as the current Dash 6. New, forty-millimeter rods would be going in, quadrupling its rated power, and nearly doubling its effective range.

  Kana entered the ship, not having to salute since it wasn’t commissioned. He went down to the engine room and looked in on the workers. They’d already stuffed in the mag bottles, the same model as used in the Dash 6. It still held the original much larger bottles, and was now getting a veritable forest of new capacitors.

  He went back up to the bridge and was finally challenged. He introduced himself, mentioned that he was working on the Stone, the first Dresden to be modified. The lieutenant paused in his work to ask about it. Kana said, “On her fist full-power run she managed over thirteen G’s sir, exceeding the target number, and we believe we can improve on that number. These ships will give us our first big offensive punch, give us a chance to strike back for the Essex and all the other ships and people we’ve lost.”

  The lieutenant finally got around to asking Kana why he was there. Kana smiled, “Time off is all. I’m scheduled to get assigned to one of these, wanted to get a feel for the pace of work.”

  The lieutenant finally asked, “What’s your rating?” Kana had deliberately worn some old service coveralls, and these didn’t show his rank. He said, “Master Chief. I spent most of my career as a Power Technician, working engine rooms, but five years ago I cross-trained into the then-new Master Tech rating. Navy found it useful to have at least one person who could handle pretty much any situation that came up.”

  The lieutenant looked at Kana’s huge chest and smiled, “You look like you might be able to handle any situation that comes up.” Kana shrugged, “Sir, with your permission, I’d like to inspect the electrical systems controlling the lasers. Our engineers swear the ones on the Stone are fine, but just one tenth of a degree in temperature differential can throw off their aim.”

  The lieutenant asked, “Is that a worry?” Kana said, “Sir, it is if a Bug fighter is shooting at you.” The lieutenant asked, “Oh, have you seen combat?” Kana nodded, not wanting to get into details, “Yes sir, a bit.”

  He assumed the permission and went aft, opened a hatch, lowered a ladder and climbed up into a tiny compartment that held the complex equipment that maintained the tuned lens at a precisely controlled temperature across great extremes, from near zero to four hundred degrees centigrade. The actual lens resided inside an insulated, heated and cooled housing, protecting it from those extremes, insuring it wouldn’t distort, another way of saying miss.

  Kana keyed a pad, bringing up a small illuminated panel. He was almost surprised that it was live – the ship’s own systems were down, but the Dresdens were designed by a team of engineers who clearly understood warfare – they built in backups for virtually everything.

  He ran a circuit test, got back a good reading, and ran it through a test cycle that arbitrarily input a random XYZ location and distance and operated the machinery to maneuver the lens, currently not in place. He read back the readings, ran the same test four more times and shrugged – The readings were within parameters. However, he’d heard something, the system had made a sound, something it wasn’t supposed to do.

  Over the next two hours he checked all ten mounts. One was frozen, seven showed good, two were out of tolerance. From the ship he commed the admiral’s aide and asked her, “Lieutenant, how difficult and how much time would it require to get new laser mounts for the Dresden?”

  She didn’t even ask why, simply asked, “Master Chief, how many will you require?” He said, “One hundred and twenty, twelve per ship.” She asked, “Notes?” he said, “I ran a test on the last two Dresdens being modified: five mounts were out of tolerance, one frozen.” She was silent for a moment, probably making notations, and then said, “Thank you Master Chief. I’ll personally see to this. We have most of the mounts on base, and we can get the balance within a week.” Every time he talked to her he was newly impressed – she was a marvel.

  That evening he met Mona who’d received a TDA to Base Jupiter. She knew who was responsible, but never once asked him how he’d managed. She coolly nodded and allowed him to take her carryon bag. As they walked to a scooter stop, she asked, “Feel like getting your ass whipped?” He grinned, “Not hap...um, I’m not quite certain what you mean.”

  Without looking at him she smiled faintly, “Figures.”

  He’d been working out every day, just on the off chance the woman would want a rematch.

  He dropped her off at Housing and an hour later met her at a gym, located adjacent to a huge club, the main - and most long-timers would say - only source of entertainment on the entire base, currently comprising over three million square meters. They excluded from that short list the enjoyment of watching newcomers learn how to walk in the light gravity.

  This time around, Kana was paying more attention to Mona’s
martial arts and less to her charms. He got dropped a few times, but for the most part successfully handled her superior speed and amazing array of moves.

  For two years running Mona had been the Navy female martial arts champion. She’d lost her championship five months earlier, but that only meant she was working even harder to regain it. As they’d rested, she said, “I shouldn’t spar with you too often. You’re just too damn big, I’m never going to meet a woman your size.” He nodded, “If you do, let me know, and I’ll get a transfer to Aditi.”

  They showered and changed into their uniforms and went next door. This evening, a Chinese musical group was on stage, performing something traditional. Mona spoke Mandarin, the third of four languages she was fluent in, and she claimed she’d picked up a little Chinese culture along with BC – Beijing Chinese.

  The first time she mentioned that, he didn’t understand. She shook her head and patted him on his, “Eldiot, there are multiple versions of Chinese, including Cantonese, and most of them are still spoken in the home, along with BC and System English.” He asked, “Eldiot?” She grinned, “A combination of elderly and idiotic.” He nodded, “Oh, I thought you forgot my name.” She got serious, “No. Won’t happen.”