by John Walker
I’d love a mission that didn’t involve all the pressure.
Scans picked up the escorts, two wings of fighters. One was already engaged with Tiger but the other remained attached to their charge. When the bombers drew closer though, they’d have to break formation and once they did, the dogfighting would kick in. Rudy’s bomber crew had decent defenses and might be able to fend them off but nothing compared to Meagan’s team watching their backs.
“I hope you see those guys,” Rudy said. “Your team ready?”
“We’re already ready,” Meagan replied. “You watched us out there. We’re a little low on missiles but that’s why we have pulse cannons, right?”
“I’ll take it real personal if you don’t come back so…you know…”
“Yeah, I got it Rudy. Besides, I think we’ve got this one. Half of us will stay with you while we break formation and attack. Good luck. See you back at the ship.”
Rudy watched four of the Panther fighters rocket off while the others continued to escort the eight bombers in his wing. Their target was close enough for a visual confirmation of the payload. They wouldn’t have any trouble taking it down with the ordinance they packed. He took a brief second to take in the site, the sheer immensity of everything going on.
Behind them, the Behemoth battled a massive battleship. Off to his right, he saw their allies, the legitimate government, in a heavy battle with a fleet of civilian ships and smaller destroyers. Even though it was taking place in the same system, it would take hours to fly from one side of the battle to the other, which is why it had been sectioned out so profoundly.
His targeting computer snapped him out of it, letting him know they had less than ten seconds before they’d be in range of the enemy’s weapons. He squinted through his cockpit, peering at the battle commencing between Panther and the other fighters. Meagan’s team really utilized their new inertial dampeners, practically flying circles around their opponents.
Here we go. The bombers were equipped with particularly nasty shields and heavy armor. A couple of blasts tended to be inevitable so they had to be able to take them. As they closed in, everything seemed to speed up. Their approach felt rapid. Bombs were ready to fly. Rudy gripped his controls tightly and focused.
Pulse blasts flew past him, nearly scorching his ship several times. They didn’t have the luxury of juking out of the way or maneuvering like the fighters did. The biggest difference between the two types of pilots was how they approached combat. Bombers needed to have serious nerves to allow attacks to nearly or flat out hit them.
Fighters couldn’t afford the same luxury. They had to be twitchy.
Rudy let the turrets start on their side of the business. The AI had been upgraded by Durant and they were supposed to be better shots. As they drew closer and some of the enemy fighters risked both attacks from Panther wing and the automated defenses of the bomber, Rudy realized he’d get a first hand view of just how much better his tech had become.
Pulse blasts started lighting up the area all around him. A direct hit made his shields flare but they held. His turret fired until his entire cockpit warmed up and an explosion off his bow made him wince. One of the enemy had been taken down, obliterated by a solid turret hit to the thrusters.
Okay, so they did a serious upgrade after all. Well done, Durant. I like it.
“We’re in range,” Rudy reported. “Deploying proximity and impact in fifteen seconds. Calculating shockwave and transmitting to friendly fighters now.”
The math came out rough. When their bombs went off, they’d all need to be a serious distance away to avoid damage from the concussive blast coming from the attack. Furthermore, there was no way to know that the bombs wouldn’t detonate the massive thing they were taking to the space station. That unknown factor meant they needed to be even further away.
Rudy plotted a course back for his wing to take them well out of the range of the assault. As the countdown to deployment commenced, a series of blasts hammered his side. An enemy fighters screamed by overhead, followed closely by one of the Panthers. He watched just long enough to see friendly pulse cannons vaporize his attacker.
Turrets wouldn’t have been able to keep up with that guy even after the upgrade. Man, these are fast!
An explosion to his left caught his attention, an engine on one of the other bombers.
“I’m okay,” the pilot reported. “Switching to backup now but can someone get this thing off me? My turrets having a hell of a time.”
Rudy directed his own to help and that gave a little extra incentive to keep away. By default they were programmed to respond to immediate threats to the ship, to save on power for unnecessary blasts aiming at something they could not possibly hit. This time, they were close enough to make a difference.
As they hammered away at the opponent, Rudy’s computer went off and he flipped the switches to release his payload. The bombs rocketed away, flying far faster than any fighter should be able to. They went dark some thirty meters out, programmed to only initiate thrusters if necessary for course corrections.
It made them nearly impossible to track by fighters because they weren’t giving off any particular heat. They had to adjust scanners to find the explosives, which took time, time the bombs needed to find their target and take it out. Each bomber reported back to Rudy when they finished and as a unit, they spun around and headed back for the safety of the Behemoth.
Still pursued, Rudy cursed under his breath and checked his scans. Four fighters still managed to harass them, flying around like gnats taking pot shots. He sent a quick message to Meagan, letting her know how long she had before the bombs went off but also to get some help.
“You’re not being much of an escort right now.”
“Hey, we’ve got other problems too,” Meagan replied. “And Tiger needed our help. They’re on their way back too. We’ll all team up on your four problems and solve them together.”
One of the ships moved in behind Rudy, casually dodging his turret fire. When the bastard shot back, his pulse blasts riddled his aft. The shields flared up but after five shots and a little dodging, he still found himself at ten percent shield. Christ, this guy really wants a piece of me!
Other bombers moved closer, firing at the attacker but he dropped low and sped off. Rudy watched his scans, noting that Meagan herself went after him, diving into action. He craned his neck to see the momentary fight. The enemy tried to climb and spin away. Meagan met his motion and fired three quick shots.
The new pulse blasts went right over his bow and he tried to compensate…directly into a barrage of fire which tore through his shields and lit up his reactor. The ship erupted in a ball of flame and Meagan returned to formation with them, just moments before the bombs were set to detonate.
“Here comes the biggest boom this sector’s known in a long time,” Rudy said.
“Let’s hope that’s true,” Meagan replied. “Because if that space station had gone down, I’m pretty sure they’d have a competitor.”
The bombs went off. The cargo ship was instantly annihilated, blown to little more than dust. Its cargo, the massive bomb itself, also went off. It must’ve been set to impact. When it did, it caused such a shockwave, any floating debris some thousands of kilometers out would likely be set in motion.
Hell, that was big enough to nudge a small moon if it had been close to one! Rudy noted that it was rapidly approaching them but losing steam. This is still going to hurt.
“I recommend everyone hit their after burners,” Rudy shouted into the com. “Now!”
As the pilots raced the impending impact, Meagan sent a message for all of them to set their shields to double back. At least they’d have some defense against what was coming. They also spread out in case they lost some control. A friendly collision would be a terrible punctuation to the end of the mission.
Tiger wing pulled ahead, down two fighters. In the back of Rudy’s mind, he realized that the shockwave might well kill anyone who
had ejected during the mission. They might’ve just lost friends and there was nothing they could do about it. He steeled himself for the news to come just as the wave struck them from behind.
His computer started buzzing out an alarm, letting him know about the unintended turbulence. Thanks, I feel it in the controls. He fought to keep a straight path but was jostled some twenty degrees off course. The others were also tossed about but when it passed them, he noted he had no additional damage. I think the shield trick worked.
Some of their ships would need some serious repairs, especially considering how badly they’d been shot up but everyone made it home on his wing. Clean up is going to be awful in this area. He checked the roster and noted at least half a dozen ships hadn’t reported back to control. Those commanders are going to have a seriously rough time.
“We’re going in for a landing for repair and reload,” Rudy said. “What about you, Panther?”
Meagan replied. “We’re out here for the duration it looks like but we’ll see you soon enough. Thanks for the assist with that bomb.”
“Any time. Be safe.” Rudy turned his attention to the Behemoth. “Alright folks, let’s get home and see if they have anything else they want us to blow up. I’m pretty sure we’ve got a few more bombs laying around in the hangar bay.”
***
Clea shook her head, frustrated at the data she uncovered. She took the scan data from Olly’s work and ran some reports, showing Orion’s Light activity throughout the sector. They seemed to be working directly with the rebels, even after they attacked the battleship but some of their signatures were found in the legitimate government’s fleets as well!
How’re we going to root them out completely? They’ve infested this place! Maybe Dubaris can help. I hope he believes us.
Trellan probably hadn’t realized how high his chances were of encountering the Light in this system. Any operation would’ve involved some of them either in the background monitoring the situation or being straight up involved. The ground crews were fighting them but the space station seemed to be ex military.
As far as we know for now! I need the data to see if they got what they were after up there.
She checked on the reports from the marines and sighed. They were still fighting their way to the command center. That place was under pretty heavy siege too with all the people they sent. How many military people were on board? Clea figured the rebels also wanted the weapon schematics and sent a large crew to get it.
When they arrived, they likely found the place undefended. Those criminals Trellan worked with supposedly killed a lot of people during their raid. And with the security protocols dropped from the surface, anyone could board and do whatever they wanted. The Behemoth proved it by landing their own people without incident.
The only easy part of the mission, sadly. No one thought they’d encounter so much resistance.
They opened fire on the Orion’s Light ship, directing all of Clea’s attention to the new fight. She watched as their opponents attempted to move closer, probably preparing to fire their cannon to see about stripping the Behemoth’s shields. They showed a valuable piece of intel in that the terrorist organization as a whole wasn’t sharing information quickly.
Otherwise, they’d know better than to try the tactic with the Behemoth.
“Get ready for a microjump,” Gray said. “When they’re in range for their cannon, put us behind them. I want you to unleash hell on them as soon as we appear.”
“Yes, sir,” Redding acknowledged. “Our first barrage definitely woke them up. They’re moving a little faster. I estimate we’ve got one more in us before we’ll have to react to their attack.”
“As long as you’re ready,” Gray replied. “Olly, give us a countdown to their attack.”
“Fifteen seconds,” Olly said, “at most.”
“That’s plenty of time to hit them again,” Adam said. “Give them everything, Redding. By the time we jump and reappear, the recharge will be complete.”
Redding fired again, another massive salvo that battered the Orion’s Light, causing their shields to erupt in a massive flare of white. They turned midway through the assault, giving them a different section to strike as they did so, they closed the distance a little more and as they did so, Olly gestured sharply at the screen.
“They’re firing!”
Gray nodded. “Redding, initiate the jump.”
“Yes, sir.” Redding tapped her console and the ship trembled and a brief moment of discomfort gripped Clea’s stomach. She immediately checked her personal scans and noted the course was solid but not dead on. They were just out of range from another attack and would have to close in to fire. “Engaging thrusters!”
“What happened?” Adam cursed. “How’d we end up so far away? Ensign Marcus?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Marcus replied, frantically checking his console. “My mistake…I didn’t update the course to take into account the distance our enemy already moved.”
“We’ll talk about it later,” Gray said. “Redding, full speed. We have to hit them before they get turned around and can fire their weapon. We’ve got a short window for this advantage, folks. Make it count.”
Clea felt nerves grip her tightly. This type of close action never set well with her. Prior to the Behemoth, she’d been assigned to tech crews, which worked deep inside the ship. While they were privy to information the rest of the ship tended not to know, they weren’t informed about the tactics being employed during the fight.
Knowing what they were up to made it much more real and though she’d learned a great deal both in command school and serving aboard the Behemoth, she still wasn’t quite used to the back and forth gambles ships needed to take in order to achieve a victory. The responsibility seemed particularly heavy.
Thirty seconds to distance, Clea thought. Plenty of time for anything to happen. She took a deep breath and let her anxiety out, turning her attention to the scans where she would watch the action unfold and hopefully, witness a swift and positive conclusion to the battle ahead. One can certainly hope…
Something caught her eye, a blip near the massive battle between the legitimate military and the rebels causing trouble. The Orion’s Light seemed to have gotten directly involved in that fight as well though she doubted their allies realized it. She double checked her findings and sure enough, a ship much like the one the Behemoth faced was firing on the military.
“Sir,” Clea turned to Gray. “I need to contact Dubaris right away. Permission to open a com channel?”
“Granted,” Gray spoke distractedly, waving his hand at her. “I’m a little busy right now.”
“Understood.” Clea sent a hail, hoping the man would be able to pick up. Like Gray, he’d be busy as well but if he didn’t know what they were facing, it might not matter. Their cannon would easily tear through those ships if it was allowed to. Maybe it was time the rebels find out they were working with terrorists.
I only hope it matters to them and they back off. If they’re knowingly working for them, then this civil war is already lost.
Chapter 8
Walsh directed Ethan and Orin to converge on their position, leading the men they were pursued by into a trap. The plan seemed to be working according to their scans. As they set up a firing line, their two men burst into the room and dashed to either side. When the nine enemies entered, they were treated to a full barrage of gunfire.
None of them stood a chance. Each body danced from multiple gunshot wounds and as they collapsed to the ground, their scan signatures went blank. Life signs dropped to nil and after a quick test to ensure they’d finished them off, the marines prepared to move out for the command center, a final push to complete their assignment.
“Thanks,” Ethan said to Walsh as they moved. “Appreciate the assist.”
“We should be thanking you. That was quite a few less people we needed to contend with. Definitely some daring work. I appreciate it. Fall in. This should be th
e last bit of drama for the rest of the mission.”
They made their way up several flights of stairs, unchallenged until they reached the hallway leading to the command center. There, they picked up another contingency of soldiers on their scanners. Jenks turned to Walsh, gesturing at his own wrist computer then tapping his head.
They switched to private coms.
“What’s up?” Walsh asked.
“I’ve done a sweep of the entire space station and there are only four other enemies on board besides these guys. They seem to be held up in nonessential sections of the station, living quarters, which means no action from them.”
“I’m reading ten dug in up there.” Walsh sighed. “You don’t suppose they’ll surrender?”
Jenks chuckled. “When was the last time we had something go easily?”
“I hate your memory.” Walsh squinted down the hall. “Do you think we should at least give them a chance?”
“I doubt they’d be so generous to us…but by all means, it would be nice of guns hit the deck without bodies following them.”
Walsh clicked off the private com and allowed his voice to be heard beyond his helmet. He shouted in his best drill instructor voice, putting every ounce of command and menace behind it as he did so. The goal was to give the enemy a real wake up call, a moment where they’d realize they would be better off complying than dying.
“Listen up! We’ve taken the entire station and we’re done playing around with you idiots. Surrender now and I guarantee you’ll be treated fairly! You don’t and we’ll kill every last one of you here and now!”
“Bring it!” Someone shouted down the hall, firing their weapon blindly at them.
Jenks shrugged, drawing a wince out of himself. “Told you, man.”
