by Chris Hechtl
“Then we'll just have to work our way down the list until we get to them,” Meia growled as she downed her drink. She whistled, getting the attention of the plane techs around her. She hefted the bottle, then made a tossing motion. A Neodog tech nodded and raised his hands in a classic catch position; she tossed the bottle to him then climbed into her seat, not even bothering to see if he caught the thing.
“We'll be ready to launch in four minutes, Commander,” the air boss said over the implant communications. He finally got to her and climbed the boarding ladder to look her in the eye.
“Good,” Meia said, sounding indifferent as she strapped her gloves back on.
“You don't want to visit the head, ma'am?” he asked, clearly curious. “There was a line, but I think it's clear now.”
“That's what suits are for. Ship status?” she asked as she looked up to the ceiling. Work was ongoing there. There was a little bit more room on both decks because of the casualties, but not a whole hell of a lot.
“Tight. We had a couple close calls with fighters and a bomber coming in. We've got a bomber near bingo loitering outside. I'm not taking a chance with the deck full.”
“Agreed. The pilots settling down?”
“The plane is redlining across the board. I ordered them to abandon, but they insist on bringing it in.”
“I'll handle it,” Meia growled as she put her helmet back on.
He checked her straps. “You are topped off, ma'am.”
“As soon as you get out here Meia, we'll recall Bill's fighters to replenish,” Bleakly stated flatly.
“Understood,” Meia said.
“We're getting down to almost half on fuel and munitions, ma'am. Missiles are tight. We've got enough for one more engagement so watch it.”
“Good to know,” the CAG replied as she waved for him to get back. He grabbed the rails of the ladder and hooked his feet to slide down it fast as she dropped her canopy.
He got off the ladder as a tech pushed it aside and two more techs undogged the hoses and lines to replenish the fighter's life support and fuel. He nodded to her. She nodded back and then someone was waving for his attention. He turned and went to see what was so damn urgent now.
:::{)(}:::
The Federation AWAC shuttle 11 picked up signs of a minefield englobing the planet from the recon drones she'd dispatched ahead of her. She immediately called the news in and followed it with a data burst.
Admiral White was in a virtual conference with Commodore Harris, their staffs, and flag captains when they heard the news. “So, that's his play. Keep us at bay? It won't work. We can get around him and cut him off,” Dwight said.
“If it is his play at all. He's obviously trying to play us. They could be decoys,” Renee replied.
“True,” Dwight replied thoughtfully, rubbing his chin as he considered the problem.
“It doesn't make sense. If he forts up there, we can set up on the Garth jump point and wait him out. Typical siege tactics would have us firing rail gun spreads to take out the mines, punch a hole, and then finish him off. There is obviously nothing worth fighting for in there other than the fuel farm, so what's his angle? This doesn't make sense,” Admiral White grumbled.
“I hate it when the enemy gets cute,” Renee said.
“My question is, why mine that gas giant and not the jump point or inner star system? No, something is wrong here,” Dwight said suddenly. “Sir, can we get the recon drones to do visual checks on the mines? Hell, maybe even hit one?”
“Why? You think they are decoys?”
“Yes, sir. Toss a little radioactive trash in a shell that looks like a mine, give it a beeper, and then set it where you want it. Our own sensors will tell us it's there, but since it's faint, we'll think it's trying to hide.”
“And we'll back off and rethink the problem? But we'd just cut him off,” Amadeus stated. “Unless he wants us to put ourselves in that position for some reason?”
“I don't know, sir. It just doesn't make sense.”
“Agreed. When that happens, I'm very wary. Okay, we'll try it your way,” the admiral ordered.
:::{)(}:::
Things changed in an instant when activity was detected at the Garth jump point. Admiral White heard his people swear viciously, which alerted him something had gone wrong. He looked up and over to the plot instinctively in time to see it change. He stiffened as icons began to pepper the location of the Garth jump point.
“Could it be a convoy? Light forces?” Ch'v'tt asked.
“I don't think so. Not based on these grav and mass readings,” Aleck said with a shake of his head. “We're not that lucky apparently,” he said, turning to the admiral.
“Frack,” Kyle muttered.
“My sentiments exactly.”
“The question is, how big a force are we talking about? Get me those numbers soonest,” Admiral White ordered.
Chapter 67
Berney stared dumbly as the report came in. He was tired, exhausted and almost destroyed, but he hung in there, clinging to his duty. “Say that again?” he demanded hoarsely.
“We've got activity at the jump point. A large force has just jumped in. It is in unknown strength,” the CIC rating reported.
“Then we're screwed,” Sedrick said, throwing his hands up in despair. “They must have set up a trap to catch us between forces. We …”
“It's not the Dd01ns jump point,” Jeremy interrupted, voice picking up with excitement even as his colleagues felt their hearts plummet. “It's from Garth!” he turned and looked up with a grin to the admiral.
Cyrano sat up straight as the staff looked at each other in consternation. “Comm, punch a signal through to them. Get an IFF soonest. Send them our log.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Hot damn! The tables have turned!” Jeremy said, smacking his hands together and rubbing them with glee.
“We don't even know what it is. It could be a convoy. Don't jinx it,” Berney growled.
“Oh, yeah,” the staff astrogator replied sheepishly.
:::{)(}:::
The arrival of the enemy reinforcements forced Admiral White to back off for the moment and reassess the situation. Initially he and the staff thought the reinforcements were decoys in an elaborate bluff, but he realized within seconds that no, that wasn't the case. He studied the neutrino readings and realized they were for capital ship power plants. “Look at the sensor readings. We're not just seeing lidar, radar, IR, mass, and gravitron hits, we're also seeing neutrino hits as well. They are all in line with each other and consistent with a force coming out of hyperspace. That's far more sophisticated than they've been able to do before. No, those ships are real. Unfortunately.”
“What is the chances of him faking a squadron of DNs only to have one appear when we do?” Kyle demanded.
“Bad. He knew it was coming. Did they plan this? Reverse the trap we laid in B-95a3?”
“I don't know. I'm not ready to find out here and now. Admiral?”
“We are pulling back. Go with Zeta 1.”
“Aye, sir. Zeta 1 plan.”
He thought fast about the star system's geometry. He realized instantly that the reinforcements would try to cut them off. That meant he had to act fast. “Recall the fighters. Let Commodore Vargess know we'll need the special munitions to punch a hole and make them back off,” Amadeus growled. It would take time to make the switch over once they were drawn from the ship's magazines. Unfortunately, they only had enough for one, possibly two strikes.
Also, unfortunately, they were committed to at least one orbit around the gas giant before they could get clear and head back the way they had come. That would give the enemy time to react and close the distance to them. It was now a race, one he'd experienced before. He hadn't liked the experience then and knew he'd hate it again now.
But there was no choice.
“Aye aye, sir. It will take time to get them loaded. The carriers only have a few on board; the rest are wit
h the fleet train munitions ships.”
“A few is hopefully all we'll need to make our point,” Amadeus replied tightly as he began to issue orders to salvage what he could.
:::{)(}:::
“It looks like we missed the party. Or, at least the beginning of it,” Rear Admiral Mueller said, examining the plot carefully. His staff was still going over the log from Admiral De Gaulte's flagship. It was something of a relief to see Executioner was still there. She seemed a little worse for wear, but she was there by the gods.
More importantly, they now had the enemy outnumbered and outgunned. Even as his staff was processing the log he and Admiral Wong had consulted and begun to issue orders to intercept the enemy. They could already see the enemy changing course to move to the Dd01ns jump point. The thrill of the hunt was on.
“My fighters are raring to go. We need to get them into range,” Admiral Wong stated over the tactical link between the flagships.
“Well, let's see if we can do something about that,” Admiral Mueller said as his staff navigator plotted an intercept course.
“Sir, we've established contact with Admiral De Gaulte,” the staff communications officer reported.
“Then by all means, put him on,” Admiral Mueller replied with a grin. When he saw the image of Admiral De Gaulte, he came to attention and then couldn't help but smile. “In over your head, Cyrano? That's not like you.”
Four minutes later Cyrano's image changed. First, he snorted, and then he cracked a brief wintery smile. “Something like that. I'm glad you finally showed up.” That came out a bit more sour than he'd wanted. It might be that the losses were playing heavily on him. For whatever reason, most likely politics he mused, it had cost him a lot of lives.
But it looked like the tides of fortune were turning once again he thought. The fates were fickle like that. He intended to take full advantage of it of course.
“Oh, ouch. You know, I might have dropped a sock back there. We could always go back and look for it,” Admiral Mueller said, pretending to look over his shoulder.
“Cute. At least you got them to back off.”
“We see that. They are making a run for the jump point.”
“Not necessarily,” Cyrano replied four minutes later.
“Oh?”
“They have better computers and navigators than we do. If they get within the vicinity of the jump zone, they can jump.”
“Ah. Good to know,” Admiral Mueller replied with a nod.
“Don't underestimate them. Cornered, they can fight like demons. Each of their ships are the equivalent of two of ours.”
“Also good to know, though I'm not so sure about that. We'll see. But no matter how well they fight we're still going to destroy them,” Admiral Mueller growled.
Cyrano heard that and nodded once in reply. His reply was short and sweet. “Good.”
:::{)(}:::
The Federation forces were forced to loop around the planet and then head for the Dd01ns jump point, or at least the general vicinity.
Admiral White expected Admiral De Gaulte's forces to engage him to try to pin him and slow him down, but they didn't. The larger ships kept just out of range as they sent fighters in. That forced his fighter pilots to engage to keep the fighters away.
“The good news is the change in course has had the fleet train change course as well. Captain Tocci will be meeting up with them in an hour and they are well outside the range of anyone including the raiders.”
“Understood. We need those munitions though,” the admiral growled.
“Yes, sir.”
“Sir,” Kelly said cutting him off.
“Yes? What is it?” Amadeus demanded.
“We've gotten an ID on one of the ships. The fleet carrier, she's got a skull and crossbones painted on her flanks. CIC says their war book says she is the Courageous, home of Skull Squadron.”
“Skull squadron?”
“Yes, sir. Their elite. They are actually an entire wing. I just checked; the war book says they have all E-class fighters and are good. Some of their pilots are heavy into cybernetics too. A few have reportedly had their own legs cut off below the knee in order to limit their blood supply.”
“Okay, that part I didn't need to know,” the admiral said witheringly.
“Sorry, sir. The pilots might want to know though. It affects their G tolerances apparently,” Kelly said apologetically.
“Then pass it on to the CAGS. Anything on the capital ships?”
“We are still working on it, sir.”
“Okay.” He adjusted himself and his thinking and then nodded once more. “Okay, here is the deal,” he said, leaning forward over the holographic display. “The enemy is coming out to us, and they are one and a half AU away from the gas giant. We've got to get around it in order to change course for the jump point.”
“Are we headed back the way we came, sir?”
“No,” the admiral stated. “We're doing a least time course to the outer edge of the system. At this point, I don't care how we get there. We're against the clock and a damn powerful fleet, which means we need to do something to even the odds,” he said as Trajan's image came online.
He noted the caption from Leopold that said it was a simulation. Fine. “Trajan, order your people to break out the special munitions. It looks like we're going to need them sooner rather than later.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The bombers will have to give them a bloody nose and get them to back off. Do you think they are up to it?”
Trajan's image hesitated before he responded. “They'll have to be, right, sir?”
“Definitely.”
“They'll need to fight their way through the enemy fighter's first, sir. That's not going to be easy,” Kelly cautioned. “Or cheap.”
“So noted. Tell Commander Bleakly to get it done,” Amadeus said, addressing his statement to Trajan.
“Will do, sir.”
:::{)(}:::
A hasty CAG conference was called when they got word of what they were up against. The tides of war had turned in the enemy's favor. There was mixed reaction to the news of the plan as well as the news of Courageous. “Great, so they brought their A team? Just what we need,” Commander Z'r'll said darkly. The Veraxin had finally managed to return to his unit and his command on the Admiral Spruance only to have this thrown at him. The bug didn't sound happy.
He wasn't the only one in the group to have those feelings.
Every fighter pilot knew about the Horathian elite squadrons. They continued to study anything ONI brought up on them. Simulator packages had been constructed to fly against. Some of the pilots had hoped and dreamed to be measured up against them in combat someday. Some had thought they were nothing but talk. But E class fighters were nothing to sneeze at. And ONI had persistently stated that many in Skull Squadron had practiced some heavy cybernetics. Some of the stories had been classified as rumor, like the pilots who'd exercised a lot of the flesh from their faces, but some like the images of pilots who had cut off their own legs from the knee down had been verified.
That was a little unnerving to some, to know that someone would go to that sort of lengths to get any advantage, no matter how small it was.
“I was looking forward to it but not now. Not at the moment at least,” Bill replied in agreement.
“Let our people know they are in for a shitstorm. This isn't going to be pretty.”
“Shitstorms never are,” Bleakly replied dryly.
“Yeah, especially when we're on the receiving end of one,” Meia replied darkly.
“Okay, can it. Here is what we're going to do. First, everyone have your people begin to tank up. The boss has ordered a special strike. I think you all know with what. So, we're going to have to pave the way for the bombers.”
“There are going to be a lot of empty racks when this is done,” Lieutenant Commander Cobin stated.
“Can't be helped. Someone's got to do it, so it's up to us to pay the but
cher's bill. It's the price of doing business I suppose,” Bill said dryly.
“So you are volunteering to go in first, I take it?” the lieutenant commander asked dryly.
“Why not? I'll keep a running telemetry going,” Bill replied.
There was silence for a long minute. Finally, Bleakly cleared his throat. He had wanted to take the honor, but he realized he had to stand back and continue to coordinate the various wings. “Okay, Bill, you are on. Meia, you and Z'r'll back him up. Cobin, your fighters are on escort duty. Anything that gets past the others, you get to tangle with.”
“Lucky us.”
“Let's see how good these skull squadron pussies really are. My money is on a paper tiger. They've never been in real combat,” Bleakly stated.
“From your lips to certain powerful watching deity's ears,” Meia muttered.
“Hopefully, the right ones. I think some of them are still laughing at what we're in for,” Z'r'll stated as the meeting broke down into details.
:::{)(}:::
When they were ready, the Federation bombers and fighters formed up and moved in. They were to fight a delaying action; they knew it. They also knew that there was a good possibility SAR wouldn't pick them up if they were forced to eject. The pilots and crews grimly volunteered to do the job anyway.
The bulk of the fighters took the lead. Half of the fighters remained in orbits around their mother ships, though some had started to cycle into their mother ships for fuel and supplies.
The fighters were eagerly met by E-class fighters piloted by fresh Skull Squadron members.
E-class fighters were a family of what many pilots considered the best of the best in terms of Federation fighters. There were six classes, though only three were represented in Skull Squadron. That was bad enough. The Eliminator, Executor, and Emperor class fighters were all modular designs built just prior to the outbreak of the Xeno war. They shared many parts in common, but the Eliminator was at the bottom of the totem pole while the Emperor was at the top.
