Wing Commander #07 False Color

by William R. Forstchen

  Which meant there was more going on out here than met the eye . . . maybe a lot more. The Cats had appeared right behind the cloaked whatever-it-was. As if they were chasing it . . .

  As if to confirm his line of thought, the first wave of Cat fighters peeled off toward the pirate carrier, opening fire from long range. A sustained bombardment washed over the carrier's forward shields and across her bow in a seemingly random firing pattern. But one of those bolts hit something.

  The scout craft shimmered as it materialized, its stealth generators failing. A flurry of fire erupted from the

  Kilrathi fighters, Vaktoth heavy attack craft fitted with a wide array of powerful beam weapons. The damaged scout ship couldn't stand up long under such an assault, and even the carrier wasn't likely to be much protection under the circumstances.

  The pirates had been the enemy just minutes ago, but anyone the Kilrathi wanted to get this badly was someone Kevin Tolwyn wanted to protect - at least until he could find out why.

  "All Liberators, all Liberators, this is Lancelot One," he said over the all-squadron tactical channel. At close range the jamming might distort it, but the message would get through. "New orders. Concentrate on the lead Cat squadron. Give them everything you've got . . . and protect the two pirate ships out there. Repeat, the pirates are no longer considered target. Protect them from the Cats. Let's go!"

  He advanced his throttle and felt the internal gravity variance pushing him back into his seat as the Raptor accelerated. If the Cats were chasing that pirate scoutship, then the Landreicher intervention in their little fight was a sure way of getting their attention, just what Galbraith wanted.

  Of course, the odds were that very few of the outnumbered Liberators would get out of the battle alive.

  Bridge, Guild Scoutship Highwayman

  Near Jump Point Six, Hellhole System

  0808 hours (CST)

  Smoke filled the bridge from half a dozen small electrical fires. The automatic firefighting system hadn't cut in, so the bridge crew was battling the blaze with fire extinguishers. Banfeld sat motionless in the command chair. Everything had gone wrong, and on the screen in front of him was the proof.

  After dodging everything the Cats could throw at them for two days, Highwayman had reached Hellhole, but damaged and with two Kilrathi carriers close on her tail. And the first sight to greet them on arrival was Bonadventure, under attack by Landreicher fighters and obviously suffering severe damage to her engineering section. There was no sign of Guild activity near Hellhole itself, but the long-range sensors had picked up scattered ships, Guildsmen and Free Republic Navy, in running fights far removed from planetary orbit. So Delgado's betrayal had led to a government attack . . . and Banfeld's beleaguered scout had jumped out of Kilrathi space right into the middle of this new trouble.

  And the old trouble had followed him here. It was disaster, pure and simple.

  "Cloak is down, sir," Jonas Hart reported. "No way to get it back on-line. Port and ventral thrusters off-line. Shields are coming back up, but they can't take sustained hits. We've lost most of the ventral armor, and there are at least three compartments open to space.

  Casualties . . . five killed, including the Chief Engineer and his mate." Hart paused, his head cocked to one side as he listened to another set of reports coming in.

  "The captain of the Bonadventure is on the laser tight-beam. He wants further instructions. He says the Landreich fighters are vectoring in on our position, but they are no longer firing at the carrier and seem to be intending to engage the Cats. He wants to know if he should open fire on them as they close."

  "Good God, no, man!" Banfeld said. "If they want to fight the Cats, for God's sake let them! Tell him to get whatever fighters he has left out there to help the Landreichers, and to let them know we'll cooperate!"

  "Aye aye, sir," Hart said, sounding dubious.

  "And tell him to extend his shields to give us some cover before—"

  Another burst of Kilrathi fire slammed through the shields and into Highwayman. From the sound of it, the fire must be coming in against the dorsal armor. That was fortunate. The scout couldn't take any more damage to her underside. But it wouldn't be long before they were out of armor plating everywhere.

  Banfeld gripped his chair and tried to think. There wasn't much left that he could do. It was up to the Landreichers now. . . .

  CHAPTER 16

  "Victory must inevitably go to the Warrior whose desire for conquest is greater than his fear of death."

  from the Third Codex

  18:10:05

  Raptor 500, VF-84 "Liberators"

  Near Jump Point Six, Vaku System

  0810 Hours (CST)

  "Repeating, I am under orders to cooperate with you against the Cats, and am launching fighters now. They are not hostile to Landreich forces, but will protect

  themselves if fired upon . . ."

  "Understood, Bonadventure," Kevin Tolwyn replied. "I agree . . . we'll save our own differences for later." He paused. "Request that you attempt to get a tight-beam link open to the Independence and bring them up to speed."

  "We'll give it a try," the carrier's captain answered.

  "But I don't know how long we can maintain it." Tolwyn switched off and concentrated on the pair of Vaktoths that were maneuvering to try and get off shots at the crippled scoutship. A Raptor was a poor match against one of the newer, more powerful Kilrathi heavies, but Tolwyn went in with all guns blazing and was lucky enough to find the lead Cat pilot distracted by his attack run. His neutron guns pulsed again and again, until they had completely drained his reserve power, but on the last shot the first Vaktoth came apart in whirling debris.

  The second Vaktoth did a sharp left roll and came up on Tolwyn's rear, the warning tone in his ear alerting him that the Cat had locked his weapons. Tolwyn reversed thrusters at full military power, a maneuver forbidden by just about every safety regulation in the ConFleet manual and probably most of the Landreich's as well. He could feel the strain on his fighter as it made the drastic vector change, slowing radically with regard to the pursuing Vaktoth. The heavy fighter surged past him, and Tolwyn parted with one of his precious missiles—he only had one more, a Spiculum Image-Recognition missile—while he waited for the energy weapons to recharge.

  A moment later his wingman, Ventura, dropped in alongside him with mass drivers and ion guns blazing. In combination with Tolwyn's missiles the sudden attack overwhelmed the Cat's screens, and the second Vaktoth was gone.

  At the same moment, though, two Raptor pilots were calling for help, and one of them was cut off abruptly as the second wave of Kilrathi fighters, Dralthi Four medium attack fighters from the closest Kilrathi carrier, arrived on the scene and added their firepower to the battle. It was rapidly degenerating into a free-for-all, where Kilrathi numbers were sure to tell over human discipline and tactical doctrine.

  "Landreich Wing Commander, this is Captain Tanaka of the Bonadventure. Can you respond?"

  "Keep it short, Captain," Tolwyn said, putting his stick hard over to circle back into the thick of the fighting.

  'We've contacted your carrier. Your commander wants you to engage the Kilrathi here while he regroups the rest of your ships without interference.'

  "Roger that," Tolwyn said. He'd figured that would be Galbraith's decision. It was the logical one to make . . . but it left the Liberators flapping in the breeze.

  "Look, Navy, you know this battle is hopeless. You know that, don't you?"

  "Your point, Captain?" Tolwyn replied through clenched teeth, all too aware of the truth in the man's statement, but unwilling to admit it.

  "Bonadventure isn't getting out of here no matter what happens," Tanaka told him. "The engines were too badly damaged by your last attack. I can make minimum thrust, but there's no way I'm outrunning those Cats."

  "You want an apology? I'm sorry we treated you the way we treat any pirate who shoots up one of our ships."

  "Damn it, I'm try
ing to offer you a way out of this mess!" the pirate captain flared. "Look, that scoutship's in a bad way, and Zachary Banfeld is on board. If you'll have a couple of your fighters tow him clear, and group the rest of your birds around my bow to give me some cover, I think Bonadventure can take this fight to the enemy. All the way in to the enemy."

  Tolwyn frowned. "You mean . . ."

  "I mean right down their throats," Tanaka said, almost snarling the words. "I'll ram the closest Cat carrier if 1 can. They have almost no vector built up over there. They'll be a sitting duck. And the rest of the Cats will have to assist . . . a carrier's too valuable to throw away, even an escort job. In the confusion, your pilots can break off and get the hell out of here, back to your battle group. Just take Banfeld with you. The Guild needs him."

  "I don't give a damn about what the Guild needs,' Tolwyn said. "But we have our own reasons for reeling him in. But I don't think you should try this stunt,

  Captain. Didn't you just say that a carrier's too valuable for this?"

  Tanaka's face on the communications screen creased in a bitter smile. "As I said, we don't get out of this one way or another. And I never really considered this bucket to be much of a carrier in the first place."

  "All right, Captain," Tolwyn said reluctantly. "It's your choice, I guess. I'll organize my people."

  "Understood." Tanaka paused. "May I ask you one favor? A personal matter?"

  "Sir?"

  "I have a wife and two children, on Landreich. Haven't seen them in over a year . . ." Tanaka seemed to gather his resolve. 'Would you see to it that they do not suffer for what I have done? No government confiscations, no dragging them through the courts? They knew very little about my involvement with the Guild, and persecuting them will gain the government nothing."

  Tolwyn swallowed. "I can't promise anything, Captain.

  I'm not that important. But I'll do everything I can." "Thank you. Tanaka clear"

  Kevin Tolwyn swallowed as he reached for the commlink controls to pass on the new orders to the Wing. Somehow he had never thought of a pirate as leaving a family to mourn him.

  Combat Information Center, FRLS Independence

  Deep Space, Vaku System

  0818 hours (CST)

  "I'm afraid the Admiral didn't make it, Captain. Sick Bay reports he died at 0813 hours."

  Galbraith scowled. "Thank you, Commander. What's the status on the rest of the battle group?"

  "All ships have acknowledged orders and broken off their pursuit, sir," Commander Roth responded. "Best estimate is ten minutes before the Themistocles is back in supporting range. She's the furthest out."

  "And the Flight Wing?"

  "Heavily engaged, sir. The pirate carrier reports they are working together on a maneuver to tie up the Cats now. It's steering a course toward the Kilrathi task force, and is coming under increasingly heavy attack. Commander Tolwyn reports that he's lost five Raptors, four Scimitars, and a pair of Hornets so far. Also two of the pirate Broadswords that sortied to support the Wing."

  "God . . . almost a third of the fighters we had out there." Galbraith looked away. "Very well, Commander. Keep me apprised. I want to know when the battle group is fully reassembled. Navigator, lay in a course for the jump point to Landreich . . but execute it only on my mark."

  "The jump point, Captain?" Roth asked with a raised eyebrow.

  "You heard the order, Commander," Galbraith said, more harshly than he had intended. Roth was like the voice of his conscience, and he couldn't deal with having his decisions second-guessed right now. He was unsure enough without having to justify his decisions.

  Galbraith sagged in his chair, the weight of responsibility all but overwhelming. He had thought to emerge from this day a war hero. Instead he would be remembered as the man who had sacrificed an entire flight wing to prevent the loss of his entire battle group . . . not exactly how he'd pictured the outcome of the day's operations.

  Raptor 500, VF-84 "Liberators"

  Jump Point Six, Vaku System

  0827 hours (CST)

  "The bastards just keep on coming," Tolwyn said. "You still with me, Venture?"

  "Hanging in there, skipper," his wingman replied. But next time you throw a party, I'd just as soon you left me off the guest list, okay ?"

  "Next time, I'm leaving the Cats off the guest list,"

  Tolwyn replied, taking a shot at a Darket light fighter that swept past his bow.

  They had battled their way through increasing resistance, the human fighters forming a protective screen out ahead of the battered pirate carrier as it shaped its course right into the heart of the Kilrathi task force. In a conventional fight the humans would never have been able to penetrate so close to the two Cat escort carriers, but the Kilrathi had been disorganized coming out of their jump so close to the Bonadventure, so they hadn't been placed to block the approach with their cruisers or destroyers. These were closing in as fast as possible, but the Bonadventure was going to win the race by a slim margin . . . if the Kilrathi fighters could just be held at bay.

  It was costing entirely too many of the Liberators to do that job, and Tolwyn could only pray that the sacrifice was worth it. At least the Cats had concentrated on the main threat as soon as they'd perceived it, leaving both the Landreich battle group and the crippled scoutship with its escort of three Hornets alone while the fight raged around the pirate carrier.

  Earlier he'd scorned the pirate ship as a clumsy improvisation. Now Tolwyn could feel a grudging respect for the ship and crew. He'd never seen a Navy ship, ConFleet or Landreicher, bear up any better under fire than Bonadventure. Her captain would have done ConFleet proud, under different circumstances.

  The carrier held on course, aimed straight for the Kilrathi escort carrier ahead.

  "Skipper! Skipper! Heads up!" Venture's voice was hoarse with adrenaline. "Four Dralthis closing fast . . ."

  Tolwyn cursed his own inattention. He'd let himself become distracted, and the Cats had turned up the heat against the beleaguered Landreichers. He cut sharply to port just in time to avoid multiple hits from the incoming Kilrathi medium fighters, all of them swooping down on him with their energy weapons searing the midnight sky of space.

  "Mongoose" Callahan in Raptor 506 wasn't so lucky. As the Dralthis flashed past Tolwyn's fighter in tight formation they maintained their fire, battering Callahan's shields.

  "Get 'em off me!" Callahan shouted.

  Tolwyn tried to fall in behind the enemy formation, but they were too maneuverable. His Raptor wasn't designed for tight turns or fancy maneuvers, and he was just too far out of position to be effective . . .

  Broadsword 206, Guild Squadron "Raider-One"

  Jump Point Six, Hellhole System

  0828 hours (CST)

  Winston Drake saw the four Dralthis attacking the Landreich Raptor, and almost instinctively rolled sideways to line up a shot on the nearest of them. It was only after he'd squeezed the trigger to activate a full-spectrum energy weapon bombardment that the irony of the situation really hit him.

  Less than two hours ago he'd been dogfighting with the Landreichers, whose vast superiority in numbers had accounted for nearly half his fellow pilots from Bonadventure. The onslaught had been so fierce that Captain Tanaka had hastily ordered a retreat. Otherwise Drake himself would probably be vapor by now.

  Yet with the appearance of the Cats everything had changed. Now the humans were working together, and that Raptor pilot out there who might have accounted for one of Drake's buddies earlier was now an ally to be saved.

  His beam weapons burned through the rear shields of the Dralthi and bored into her stern. A moment later there was nothing left of her except an expanding cloud of debris. Drake let out a whoop and started lining up his next shot. This sure as hell beat sniping at unarmed tenders or getting pummeled by overwhelming Landreich forces.

  The Cats realized their danger and broke in three directions at once. Muttering curses under his breath,

  Dra
ke pulled right and increased to full power, trying to keep the more maneuverable Dralthi in his sights. He squeezed off several shots, but couldn't maintain a target lock long enough to have any real effect.

  Then the Kilrathi ship he was chasing burst into flame and shards of hull plating as the pilot he'd rescued joined the party. "Whoever you are, thanks for saving my bacon back there," the Raptor pilot said over the comm channel.

  "Glad to help," Drake said, surprised to find he really meant it. "Check your low two. One of them's heading in!"

  The Raptor turned slowly onto the new vector, and Drake's Broadsword shot past him, opening fire again. But the Dralthi's forward shields were better than those protecting the stern, and the Cat pilot made no effort to evade the incoming fire. Instead he fired back, soaking up everything Drake had to give him and countering with his own full-powered beams.

  Drake gave a cold grin. The Dralthi's energy reserves didn't cycle back to full power as quickly as a Broadsword's did, and his forward shields were weaker. This Cat wanted to trade body blows? That was fine with him. "Goodbye, puss," he said, tightening his grip on the trigger on his stick.

  It was only then that he spotted the second Dralthi rising from behind the first one, adding its own hellish energies to the onslaught hammering at his forward shields. He barely had time to register the fact before half-a-dozen alarms went off in his cockpit.

  After that, Winston Drake knew no more.

  Flag Bridge, KIS Klarran

  Jump Point Six, Hellhole System

  0829 hours (CST)

  Admiral Julgar nar Ta'hal could feel the cold claws of the God of the Running Death closing around his throat. "Where in the name of all the Gods are the cruisers?" he demanded.