First Strike
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With a loud whoop, Lloyd ran out onto the flight deck to welcome the rest of the squadron’s newly arrived pilots and navigators. Tarina and Wendy quickly joined in the festive greeting. They traded stories over a late supper before proceeding back to the hangar.
Colonel Wright was waiting for them. “Okay, everyone, settle down. I’m just as happy to see you too, but we’ve got work to do and not a lot of time to get it done.” A 3D holographic image of Derra-5 and the Kurgan Fleet appeared in front of the young officers. “Folks, in precisely twenty-eight hours this is where we will be going. We have been tasked by Sixth Fleet to be the first ships in the invasion armada to engage the enemy above Derra-5.”
A captain with a puzzled look on his face said, “Sir, we’re a reconnaissance unit. Our ships aren’t configured for combat. You said so yourself, back on Earth.”
“All true, Ryan; however, we won’t be jumping in to duke it out with the enemy. We are going to deliver several high yield electromagnetic pulse bombs near the enemy’s carriers and destroyers. If successful, these vessels will be knocked out of commission, floating helplessly in space, just as our own carriers arrive in orbit. We’ve already proven that you can jump with a payload attached to the undercarriage of an Avenger, so this should be a relatively easy assignment.”
Major Fareed said, “Surely, Colonel, their ships will be shielded against an EMP attack.”
Wright smiled. “They probably are. However, these experimental EMP bombs are five times more powerful than anything that existed in our fleet’s arsenal when the war began. I have been assured that they will be able to cripple the enemy’s ships once they are activated. To make sure that we put them out of commission, we will be placing two bombs per carrier and one per warship. That makes for a total of seven Avengers that will be used in this attack.”
Fareed said, “Sir, we could only bring eight ships with us. The other four developed engine problems and were still being worked on when we left Earth.”
“It’ll have to do,” replied Wright. “It at least gives us a spare, should one of the other craft develop a technical problem between now and the time we jump. For the new arrivals, I expect you to review the reports written by your colleagues. Don’t be afraid to lean on them for advice.” Wright turned off the image of Derra-5. He stepped forward and locked his steely gaze on his people. “Folks, we’re only going to get one chance to do this. If we don’t succeed, there’s a good chance that the Sixth Fleet may not be able to sweep the enemy away from the planet when the landing craft packed with Marines and their equipment arrive. Just so we’re all on the same sheet of music. I don’t intend to fail . . . and neither do you!”
Light years away, Admiral Sheridan sat in his command chair and listened to the reports as they came in. One by one, the ships reported their readiness. When General Denisov said that his Marines were tired of being cooped up in their landing craft and were ready to kick some ass, Admiral Sheridan knew that it was time. He turned to his operations officer, “Captain, give the order for the fleet to make the jump.”
Calculated down to the last second, the ships under his command would arrive in three successive waves ready to do battle with the enemy. If Colonel Wright and his people failed, he felt that he could still drive the Kurgans away from the planet long enough for the Marines to make it down to the surface. After that, he couldn’t guarantee a thing. It was going to be desperate and close in battle in which the individual ship’s captains had more control over the action than he ever would. He had given his orders, now it was up to the people under his command to execute those orders.
“The first strike force is making the jump,” announced Captain Killam.
“Please let me know when the last ship has jumped,” Admiral Sheridan replied.
A couple of seconds later, his vessel, the command ship of the second strike force, engaged its jump engine and began the flight to Derra-5.
Admiral Sheridan stood up and moved over to the screen showing a tactical display of the Sixth Fleet’s movement. Excluding General Denisov’s Marines, who would be arriving one hour after the first ships arrived over Derra-5, all of Sixth Fleet was preparing for battle.
“Sir, they’re all away,” reported Killam.
Admiral Sheridan nodded. He looked into the faces of the experienced officers and chiefs who made up his staff. “Well, it’s out of our hands now. When we come out of our jump, we’ll either be facing two crippled carriers or two enemy carriers ready for battle. Either way, I know that every man and woman in the fleet knows their job and will do what they must to secure victory.”
“Amen to that,” added his aide, who crossed herself and then said a silent prayer.
Admiral Sheridan looked over at Commander Roy. “Carmen, I’m not one to ask the Almighty for support, but if you’re chatting with him could you ask him to protect the men and women of the fleet?”
Roy nodded and kept on praying. The room went quiet. Everyone turned their heads and looked over at Roy until she was done. “Okay, I’ve done all I can. It’s over to you now,” said Roy to the people in the room.
Admiral Sheridan grinned. “You heard the lady. Everyone back to work. We’ve got a battle to win.”
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