“Ten days. And I itch and need a shower, so be glad you don't have to smell me,” Mairi said wryly. Hurt locker chuckled in sympathy. “I can get out of this suit to scratch, but it's a pain in the ass,” she said.
“Ah.”
“So, fuel. Enough to get to the planet with a bit of a reserve?” Mairi asked.
Hurt locker nodded, sending the calculations to the girl. The girl whistled softly, and then extended another arm. This one had a flexible fuel line attached to it by zip ties. It moved to the fighter and then hesitated. “It's behind my cockpit,” she said. Hurt locker flipped a switch and the armor covering her fuel port behind her cockpit retracted.
The girl bent the arm docked to the craft so she could see around the craft. “Oh there it is,” she said. She maneuvered the arm to the port, and then gently slid it in. “Fill er up. Don't bitch cause it's basic,” she said.
Hurt locker noted the fuel transfer had begun. “Wouldn't dream of it little lady,” Hurt locker replied.
“What's your name?” Mairi asked shyly.
“You can call me Hurt locker kid, it's my handle. What's yours?”
“Queen bitch sometimes,” Mairi said, making a face. “Mairi. Sometimes Mairi quite contrary to some of the yahoos on the station.”
“Men,” Hurt locker replied, rolling her eyes. “Can't shoot em, can't space em.”
“You can try,” Mairi replied dryly. Both women looked at each other and smiled slightly.
When the fuel transfer was completed Mairi disengaged from the fighter and then drifted clear. “You're all set. Have a nice flight,” she said, saluting with one waldo arm.
“You too. I'd ask you to come with me but that thing wouldn't survive atmo I think,” Hurt locker said.
“Nope, so I'll just stay here,” she said smiling.
“Roger that. We catch up when this is over, drinks are on me,” Hurt locker said, keying the ignition sequence.
“I'll hold you too it,” Mairi replied, smiling as the fighter turned slightly, reorienting on the proper course, and then her engines lit.
...*...*...*...*...
When Hurt locker was on her final to the planet she saw a shot come up from the planet and then go off into space. She quickly keyed her radio. “Antigua, Antigua, this is Cobra 4, Federation navy. I'm on final to recover on the planet. Please don't shoot. Please guide me in,” she said. “Over.”
She waited, closed her eyes for a moment then opened them when a voice finally responded. “This is Antigua control, all windows are closed. If you are who you say you are, go somewhere else,” he instructed in a firm voice.
Hurt locker glanced at her fuel. She winced. She could divert to the station, but it was still in enemy hands. “No can do Antigua, I'm, look, I'm not quite bingo, but you are the only port in a very messy storm up here. My ship's a bit chewed up and I need to land.”
“Stand by Cobra four,” The controller replied. She could imagine the discussion going on. They probably thought of her as a pirate playing games, maybe trying to get in to do a firing run on their network of planetary defense centers. She keyed them up on her computer and frowned. The one that had fired on her was from the Northern continent, there were a series of cratered mountains where others were supposed to be. Apparently the enemy had taken them out, or at least damaged them.
She wondered what was going on, what was taking so long. Hopefully they'd make up their minds before she ran out of fuel or had to divert.
...*...*...*...*...
“What's going on?” Randor asked as his wife stood in the space port control holding a microphone to her chest. “Honey?” he asked.
“Shh, I'm waiting on a reply,” she said.
“From who?” Randor asked. His hands were up. “Honey, Marlena, we really need to get to the shelters. The caves...”
“My place is here,” she said firmly, looking out over the space port to the golden city beyond. “Damn it...” she muttered.
He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her arms briefly before he hugged her. She smiled, nuzzling into him, drinking in his scent and strength. She felt his hands rub her back and shoulders. “Oh, good,” she murmured, head down.
“We can find a nice quiet place near the caves to have some fun dear,” he said.
She smirked. Randor was always horny, or said he was when the shooting started. But she had a duty. “I can't.” She pointed to a blip in the horizon.
He turned to look at it with a frown, hands pausing. It showed the planet, with a single ship approaching. “Shuttle?”
“I don't know. I'm not sure what it is. Antigua fired a warning shot, control doesn't know if it's friend or foe either. The governor is being cautious about the battle going on overhead.”
“Wait, there's a battle going on above?” Randor demanded, eyes wide.
She laughed, turning to him. “See? You go hide in a cave and you don't get to see everything going on silly!” she said.
He pursed his lips for a moment then let out a deep breath. “Okay, for the record, I was with Duncan trying to get snake mountain's weapons back online.”
“As well as managing the evacuation, yes I know, I heard you,” she said, pointing to a headset on the counter controls in front of her. He looked at it and then shorted.
“So, battle?”
“A ship came in, apparently a warship. She's chewed up the pirate fleet.”
“Oh!” Randor said, delighted.
“Eternia space port control, this is Antigua Prime, W two speaking. This you Mar?” Rasha Warner said over the radio startling them both.
Marlena smiled and raised the radio to her lips. “This is me W, um, about our visitor...”
She had to wait a few seconds for the signal to reach the station and then a reply to return. “It's a fighter. One of ours. Or the Navy's I should say. The cavalry has arrived,” Rasha replied, voice sounding elated. “Firefly is cleaning the pirate fleet's clocks as we speak.” Marlena looked down to see an encrypted file embedded in Rasha's voice. It had all sorts of information in it. She applied the agreed upon public decrypt key she had and then passed the contents to Randor. He took a look and then whistled.
“How are you doing up there?” Marlena asked, clearly worried for her friends. “Over.”
“Oh, we've got our hands full with uninvited guests.” Rasha replied, voice a tinged with suppressed annoyance. “We're going to be evicting them soon I hope,” she said. “If you could give that fighter sanctuary? She goes by the handle Cobra 4.”
“Okay,” Marlena replied. “Good luck Rasha. Stay safe,” she said.
“You too Marlena, you too,” Rasha replied. Marlena switched frequencies.
...*...*...*...*...
“Cobra four, this is Eternia space control. You are cleared to land at our location,” a new voice, this one a human female said after five minutes of waiting.
Hurt locker's eyes flared wide briefly in surprise and confusion. “Um...”
“You can't do that!” Antigua control said over the radio. “The governor...”
“Can talk until he's blue in the face. This lady needs to land. NOW.” The lady said. “Tell Randall I said it's okay. I checked her out, she's friendly.”
“On your head,” Control replied, clearly seething.
Hurt locker picked up the landing beacon and fed it's coordinates into her computer. After a moment it kicked out a course to follow on her HUD. “Cobra 4, course plotted.”
“Follow the ball 4,” Marlena replied.
“Roger, I have the ball,” Hurt locker replied.
...*...*...*...*...
Only after she survived the buffeting of her fighter hitting the atmosphere, and then the feel of the skids hitting and sliding on the concrete apron did Hurt locker realize she was doing another first, the first pilot to land on another planet. And what a planet! She had had a brief glimpse of jungle and a golden city beyond the port, she was already wondering how many bars they had, and if
she could pick a guy up in one. Hell, not if, when. She wanted some in the worst way.
She smiled, settling as her ship slid to a halt. She let out a breath, staring out as her ship skin cooled. She saw a hover car approaching and keyed the sequence to open her cockpit. As it rose she keyed the sequence to release her suit's harness from the ejection seat, and then took her helmet off. She shook her hair out and smiled to a red headed woman getting out of the car. A bearded man was with her. “Thanks for letting me land.”
“You're welcome,” Marlena replied with a slight upward curve of her lips as she put her hands on her hips. “Welcome to Eternia Island.”
“Nice to be here,” Hurt locker replied, climbing out of her craft. “Lieutenant JG Martha Huert. You can call me by my handle, Hurt Locker. Is that a PDC?” she asked, pointing to the mountain that looked like it was covered in snakes.
Marlena turned. She was surprised that the woman had ignored the golden city in favor of the defense instillation. Then again, right now they were under attack, so maybe her priorities were right on the money. “It is.”
“Does it work?”
Marlena looked again. “I certainly hope so. And it's a long story.”
“I'd love to hear it, but right now I need fuel and energy so I can get back in the fight.”
Marlena gave her a long look then lurking smile. She could tell the other woman desperately wanted a bath and sleep, but she knew better than to offer, she had made up her mind. Besides, her friends and colleagues were up there, fighting for their lives. She nodded. “We'll get it done,” she said. She turned and started issuing orders.
Hurt Locker looked up to the sky above.
...*...*...*...*...
Other fighters took out the smaller escort ships, then moved out of the battle space with the surviving enemy gunships on their tails. The distraction drew off some of the fire and attention from Firefly, which was the greater threat. Firefly had exited the battlespace and then had cut her drive and done a pitch flip, going nose over tail in a 180, and then lit her drive in a braking maneuver. They didn't want or need to burn off too much speed, after all, speed was life, but they did need to get back into the fight.
They reshaped their course to sling around a moon and then came back in hard and fast. Cutlass was wounded but still in the fight it seemed. Four frigates and a dozen corvettes remained standing. They thundered their rage at their enemy.
“They aren't running Captain, they're standing their ground.”
“I see that.”
“Execute Dazzle and Shell game.”
“Aye, Captain, executing shell game.”
Firefly sent a spread of counter missiles from her bow tubes. They blew up in front of Firefly at about a million kilometers out, sending out a dazzling display of flares, chaff and sparklers. Firefly deployed decoys at the same time, each headed in a different angle away from them mimicking the ship's drive signature.
At the same time the ship spat six eggs behind her with her chase tubes, then went dark, dropping her shields. The ship stepped down her reactor to stealth once more and then pitched down, away from the Horathians and out of their engagement zone.
In a way, the larger ship was backing off, buying time for her damage control parties to get a handle on the mounting list of damage while also looking for another opening to get in to the enemy's formation. The Captain was playing it conservative now, trading insane risk for a cold methodical edge attack.
There was a problem though, in stealth she obviously couldn't take on her fighters or launch shuttles. The fighters had to stand off. She sent them off to another location, then changed course. With any luck the enemy would lock onto the fighters and think that Firefly was headed to meet them.
...*...*...*...*...
“Get those damn gunships back in tight! Keep them tight, they are the only things we've got to fend off those fighters!” the admiral ordered.
“Aye admiral,” the communications officer replied. “Ordering gunships to return to station.”
“Status report?” The admiral asked. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.”
“Still no damage to the troop ships or tenders. Ramona took superficial damage from debris from Richard. We're down to three frigates since Richard was destroyed. Cutlass, three frigates, six corvettes and... eight gunships still effective sir.”
“Damn it!” He glared at the Captain as the Captain opened his mouth. “Don't! Don't even say it!” he snarled.
...*...*...*...*...
After an hour, the remaining four fighters scissored in for a third attack but most of their external ordinance had been used. They hit the outer edge of the Horathians, picking off a pair of gunships before they headed off into the outer dark. Attrition was taking a toll on them though. Hurt Locker had headed down to the planet, her partner had joined the rest of the squadron. One fighter had been damaged and had docked with the station. From the report they received the natives had gotten to him first and he was safe.
...*...*...*...*...
Hurt Locker returned a few hours later, refueled, but lacking any ordinance. She was ordered to cover the station.
“She's acknowledged the order Captain. Covering Sticks is part of her training. With her wingman on the station...” Shelby shrugged as she closed the link.
“Com, let them know we're here,” the Captain ordered.
“Aye Captain. We're sending now. I think they'd notice the mother of all battles happening around them, but...” the Captain glared. “Sorry, Captain, a note, we won't be in the same place to receive.”
“Keep an ear open on omni. I'm not expecting any miracles,” the Captain shrugged. “But record, unless it's critical, don't distract me.”
“Aye Captain.”
“Whatever they say it can wait,” Mayweather muttered, settling into her chair. She glanced at her helmet display and then to the main viewer. She looked over to the tactical display and then her smaller echo. Finally she closed her eyes and pulled the feed directly to her implants.
“Ready the Marines,” Mayweather said softly, sending the order through her link. “Land the landing force.”
...*...*...*...*...
“Sir! Firefly has just launched what appears to be two shuttles!” CIC reported.
“Course?” the admiral asked.
“They could be Search and Rescue,” the Captain said. The admiral waved to him to shush. That burned, the Captain scowled. He was now relegated to a spectator on his ship. The admiral was even intercepting damage control and ship status reports and giving his crew orders.
“Sir, course is... the station!” CIC reported. “ETA ten minutes!”
“Intercept them! Send the nearest gunships in and take those shuttles apart!”
...*...*...*...*...
Firefly launched two shuttles to the station. Two Horathian gunships that were closest to the station were drawn off to intercept. The shuttles were decoys, all part of the Captain's divide and conquer plan.
Once the enemy ships were far enough from the main body they separated and then headed to the planet. The gunships were confused but shaped for an intercept course. They walked right into the engagement zones of the remaining fighters and were torn apart.
...*...*...*...*...
“You do know the Marines needed those shuttles right skipper?” Shelby asked. “They can't exactly walk across space to the station or ships.”
“What are you kidding me? Give a Marine a butter knife and they think they can do anything,” the Captain said. That got a laugh. Even Janice was chuckling, shaking her head. “We'll get em back. Eventually,” the Captain replied with a shrug. Both shuttles had made orbit of the planet and were now safe under the PDC umbrella. What was left of it at any rate. “For now, they're safe where they are.”
...*...*...*...*...
“Admiral!” Captain Maul snarled, one hand on the admiral's arm. “We've got to run,” he said, parsing each word out carefully. “Cover what we have. Retreat. It's
our only option now. They are picking us apart, one ship at a time!”
The admiral stared at him for a long time. Beady eyes stared into Maul's imploring eyes, he felt like he was looking into a predator's gaze. “No,” the admiral finally said, his voice raw from screaming orders. “No, we're not going to do that.” He stood and adjusted his suit. “Captain Maul, you are relieved of duty. The charge is cowardice in the face of the enemy. Leave. My. Bridge,” the admiral said. He waved to a guard nearby. “Guard, escort this man to the brig.”
“Sir!” the Captain said, eyes lost. He knew the admiral wanted a scapegoat, knew the charge was a death sentence, but he had to try to salvage something.
“Now,” the admiral growled, eying the guard. The guard sprang to obey. He took the Captain's side arm and then pulled him by the arm out.
“Don't you see we've lost?” the Captain demanded.
“Come on,” the guard said, hauling him by the arm. He felt the man's pulser dig into the back of his neck. Then the Captain knew all was lost. His face fell and he meekly allowed himself to be escorted out without further protest. When the hatch closed behind them there was a buck.
The Captain frowned. “What was that?”
“None of our business. Now move along. I don't want to shoot you sir,” the guard said.
“I...” Suddenly all hell broke loose as the ship lurched hard over and then bulkheads were torn apart. The Captain was knocked flat, he felt the air around him whistle past him. He clutched at something, trying to make sense of it all and failing. The one thing he thought of was self evident, Cutlass was done.
...*...*...*...*...
Firefly's six eggs she had dropped during her Dazzle and Shell game were missiles. Each had been sent out with just the initial impulse from the missile launchers, then they had gone dark, acting like holes in space, much like their mother ship. They had tumbled for hours until they had made it within targeting distance of the Horathian flagship. A quick check with their computers and the game was on. They lit off their drives and then roared in at under ten thousand kilometers range. Before Cutlass's surprised defenders could react they were past the counter missile engagement zone and were slamming into the ship's shields, tearing the weakened shields down and boring into the armor of the ship. When the last one detonated they left a drifting hulk.
Jethro: First to Fight Page 66
