by D F Capps
“The out-of-craft communications?” Diane asked. She still couldn’t shake the loss of such a promising pilot. It was too much like losing Daniel all over again.
Theo tried to smile, then nodded. “The sound based system works remarkably well. The little bar on the collar of your flight suit is a combination microphone and speaker. It works through the radio system as long as you’re plugged into the fighter craft. Once you unplug, it goes into sound mode as long as you have your helmet on.”
Helen Catalano raised her hand. “Range?”
Theo turned to face her. “It depends on your surroundings. It has an echo inside hallways—can’t help that—but outside you can talk easily up to two hundred feet away.”
Helen and several other pilots nodded in approval.
“How often does the dry ice have to be replaced?” Simmons asked.
Good question, Diane thought.
“You will need a new dry ice canister snapped into place in the backpack for every mission. This is something your new flight techs will do as soon as the scramble alarm sounds. By the time you get to your ready room, everything will be ready to go.”
Diane smiled. This whole operation was coming together. She liked it—a lot.
“We sometimes fly outside the atmosphere. If our canopy springs a leak, will the new flight suit protect us?” Ryan asked.
Theo shook his head slightly.
“Only to a degree. The suit is not a true pressure suit, but it will provide you with basic protection for twenty minutes or so.”
Helen raised her hand. “You have a lot of boxes there, how many suits do we get?”
Theo glanced at the stacks of boxes.
“Two suits each. We don’t want anybody unable to fly because of a damaged suit. The remaining boxes are filled with backup suits and replacement parts. The flight techs will inspect your suit after each flight and replace anything that’s worn, damaged, or questionable. Any more questions?”
There weren’t. The new suits were picked up as the team disbursed.
Diane arranged to have dinner with Theo. It would be in the cafeteria, without any privacy, but it would have to do.
* * *
President Andrews watched on the security monitors, as crowds gathered in front of the White House. In excess of ten thousand veterans had gathered to protest. Some were across the street in Lafayette Square, others stood in front of the Capitol Building, with the rest spreading out into the National Mall. Another twenty thousand were traveling by bus and would arrive over the next two or three days.
“The rumor has spread,” Doug Franks said, “that withdrawing our troops from Europe means a massive reduction in military personnel and defense contracts. Active members of the Armed Forces are scrambling to find a way of not being phased out and losing their careers.”
“If they only knew,” Andrews said. The current U.S. military had just over two million members, including reserve units. The new space-based military would need more than seventeen and a half million members from the U.S. alone. “Instead of downsizing, we need a massive upgrade, not only in people, but in equipment, and technology. Tanks, bombs, bullets, ships, missiles, and planes are going to become as obsolete as horses, spears, and arrows. We need to reorganize everything, from the top on down.”
Franks sat in a chair opposite Andrews. “You have any people specifically in mind for that?”
Andrews sighed as his shoulders slumped. “Unfortunately not. My hope is that with younger military officers being promoted to fill vacancies, we can identify those who are naturally inclined toward our new vision, and place them in key positions of influence.”
Franks scooted forward. “And what, exactly, is our new vision?”
Andrews glanced at a display screen showing the crowds gathering outside.
“The old vision was of a world divided with U.S. military might intimidating other countries into either cooperation or submission through regime change. By keeping the world divided and squabbling, we could maintain control. But that is just managing an ongoing crisis; it’s not an actual solution.”
Andrews paused to gather his thoughts.
“My new vision is of a world joining forces for survival, with our new space technology leading the way to security and eventual prosperity. This new understanding of energy and technology has the potential of opening a whole new future for mankind. Unfortunately, it will also mean the demise of many cherished institutions and vested interests.”
Franks shook his head. “Those walls will not come down quietly.”
Andrews nodded in agreement. “No, they won’t. But those businesses and structures will come down at some point, one way or another. We’re just going to make it happen sooner rather than later.”
* * *
Rosaq connected with the Insectoid telepathically. The ground base for the rogue fighter craft was located. He reviewed the computer-generated, three-dimensional layout of that rogue base. The arrangement of interconnected tunnels and rooms indicated the base was heavily defended. Rosaq provided details on the placement and capabilities of the large particle beam cannons obtained from the crew of the captured rogue fighter craft.
Now he knew the rogue base and fighter craft were all manned by Earth humans. There were rumors the captured crew had heard that the off world technology assistance had come from an Andromedan, but Rosaq was skeptical. What someone from the Andromeda Council would be doing here was a mystery. There were no known contracts or protection agreements between the Andromeda Council and Earth, which made the technology transfer illogical. No ships had shown up on their sensor arrays, but Andromedan technology could cloak any number of ships from them, or make millions of ships appear where none actually existed. It certainly added an unanticipated element of risk.
The information from the captured crew and the analysis of electromagnetic transmissions and field strengths, indicated the Earth humans had a planetary shield almost in place, and Peregrine Base was the command center. There was one glaring defect in the planetary shield coverage, which Rosaq needed to exploit to bring in more saucers and workers.
Excellent, he thought. A decapitation strike was the obvious solution. There were two other locations with possible rogue fighter craft activity on the other side of the planet, but it wasn’t significant. Twenty scout saucers and a transport would be more than sufficient to eliminate each of those.
Rosaq finalized his battle plan. Experience with the rogue fighters indicated that they were formidable, but subject to overwhelming force. Therefore a massive assault against the base was in order. He calculated his losses and the resources the rogue base was now known to have, took the worst-case scenario, and doubled it. He was going to need hundreds more scout saucers, at least five transport saucers full of workers, all armed with flash guns, and three portable particle beam cannons. He had a new strategy to deal with the fighters, too.
With the new saucers, the rogue fighters would be overwhelmed, the base defenses overcome, and his ground force would eliminate every living thing in or around the rogue base. That would put an early end to this foolish rebellion.
Chapter 55
The scramble alarm sounded at 4:06 in the morning. Diane jumped from her bed and raced for the ready room. This would be the first flight in their new suits. The flight techs were just finishing up prepping the suits as she and Ryan ran into the room. The process of getting into their flight suits went faster with help from the tech support people. Within twenty seconds she and Ryan were sprinting for their fighter craft.
Ryan completed the preflight checklist. Diane nudged the controls and headed for the flight deck. Hollis was there, as usual, giving them the details of the mission.
“Multiple saucer intrusions over the Pacific Ocean, northeast of Guam. You will have the support of six fighter craft from the Russian Space Command. China is still spraying the upper atmosphere and their Xinjiang facility is not yet under our control. We need to stop these saucers, people. Get
out there and take them down. Stay alert and stay alive. Go get ’em!”
The launch lights turned from red to green. Diane and her squadron sprang from the flight deck, swung around Peregrine Base, and streaked west over the mountains. As the twenty-four fighter craft cleared the coast of Southern California, she led them low over the water at sixty percent thrust.
In eighteen minutes they contacted the lead pilot from the Russian Space Command.
“ETA?” Diane asked.
The Russian Space Command leader’s English wasn’t bad.
“Less than sixty seconds, Lieutenant Commander Zadanski. I am Senior Lieutenant Nikolaev, at your service. What is your plan?”
She smiled as she adapted to his Russian accent.
“We come in low and underneath the saucers, then up. Shoot everything that isn’t made on planet Earth.”
She had heard rumors about the skills of Russian pilots from her time on the Ronald Reagan. She was curious to see how they performed.
“Roger that. Commencing attack run in thirty seconds.”
Well, she thought, I’m about to find out.
“Copy, Nikolaev, see you in the wild blue yonder. Good hunting.”
The tactical display in the fighter craft gave Ryan the direction and distance to the enemy saucers, but no information regarding the size of the target. Diane was the first to get a visual on the saucers.
“Ry, look at the size of those things.”
Two large saucers, roughly a hundred yards across, were being escorted into the atmosphere by several hundred of the scout saucers they had encountered before.
“This isn’t an incursion; it’s an invasion,” Ryan said.
Diane had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. This wasn’t going to be easy.
“Jink to all fighters: Do everything you can to get through the scout saucers and take down the transports. They’re priority one.”
She turned on the jinking control.
“Roger that,” Nikolaev said. “Initiate jinking.” He repeated the instructions in Russian for his squadron.
The scout saucers quickly divided into two groups. The first came directly at them firing as soon as they were in range. The second group clustered close around the transport saucers, forming a protective barrier against attack.
Diane engaged the first two saucers in front of her, bobbing and weaving as her shots zeroed in.
“Ry, watch our six, I’m going in a little deeper.”
She slipped past three other saucers in an attempt to get a shot at a transport.
“Two on our six. Not going to work.”
She flipped around, shooting another saucer in the process. The two saucers behind her closed in, firing in a rapid coordinated sequence. Instead of firing back, she dived and swung to the left, then hard right, coming up behind them. Within three seconds she had hit both saucers, sending them into a twisting fall to the ocean below.
That was new, she thought. In her peripheral vision she caught four saucers coordinating fire on one of her teammates. The fighter craft was hit on its right wing and started falling to the ocean.
They should be able to get out, Diane hoped.
She swung to the left and fired at the group of four saucers, hitting one before the formation broke and the saucers scattered. Then six saucers formed a quick hexagonal formation and focused their fire on a single fighter craft from Nikolaev’s squadron. The fighter was hit and started dropping.
They’re focusing their fire around a single craft, she realized, trying to overcome the effect of jinking, and it’s working!
“Jink to all fighters: If you see four or more saucers forming up and facing you, do not engage—repeat, do not engage. Break and evade! Break and evade!”
She banked along the side of six other saucers forming another hex pattern and opened fire. Two saucers were hit before they realized she was there. The other four broke away before they could hit another member of her squadron.
“Jink to all fighters: If you are to the side or the back of saucers forming up together, attack as soon as you see them.”
The response of both her squadron and Nikolaev’s brought joy to her heart. Conversation between pilots coordinated a bait and attack strategy. One fighter would drift off on its own. As soon as the saucers closed formation to go after it, several fighter craft would zoom in from the side and back, taking down the saucers in the formation.
Nice try, Zetas, Diane thought. Coordinated firing works for you, but your formation makes a target rich environment for us.
The number of saucers versus fighter craft was shifting dramatically in favor of the fighters as the two large saucers disappeared over the ocean to the east.
“Nikolaev, our two squadrons can handle what’s left of these scouts, how about we take on the transports?”
There was a pause before Nikolaev answered. “What is the saying, ‘go big or go home?’ ”
Diane smiled. “That’s the one.”
“See?” Nikolaev said. “Now you’re thinking like a Russian.”
Diane and Buddha broke from the dogfight with Nikolaev and his wingman on their left. The four fighter craft accelerated with thrust at eighty percent. The saucers were staying well below the ionosphere where the Planetary Shield weapons could get them, but still high enough for high speed. Within three minutes Diane, Nikolaev, and their wing craft were closing in on a transport saucer. Half of the scout saucer protection squad broke off and engaged them. The four fighter craft seemed heavily outnumbered.
“Spread out. Let’s start with Buddha playing bait.”
She heard Buddha chuckling over the radio. “Roger that, Jink.”
Buddha pulled away from the other three fighters and started shooting at several saucers. Six saucers formed a hex pattern focused on Buddha.
“Here we go. Break and evade!”
Buddha dived and twisted as Diane and the two Russian fighters closed in and shot down the saucer formation.
“I’ll go next,” Diane said. She pulled away, going after two isolated saucers as six more came together in formation right behind her.
“Break now,” Ryan said.
She pulled up, twisted, and spun over the saucer formation as her three teammates took out the six saucers still in formation. Two more times the bait and attack worked, at which point the remaining saucers returned to protect the transport saucer.
“Ideas?” Diane asked.
It felt strange to see the Zetas on defense.
“Two teams from opposite directions?” Nikolaev said.
She could see that working.
“Or each from four different directions?” Buddha said.
Four directions makes more sense, she thought.
“It leaves us without any backup,” Diane said.
Following a brief pause, Ryan said, “Actually, the rest of our fighters are on their way. Twenty seconds out.”
“Ours, too,” Nikolaev said.
She looked at the scout saucers packed around the transport. “The Zetas are willing to sacrifice their scouts to protect the transport,” she said. “I think we should take them up on it. Spread out, no closer than two miles, and see how many we can pick off before the rest of our fighters get here.”
They broke in four different directions and began firing into the pack of scouts. The Zetas were firing back, but between the jinking and the distance, they weren’t hitting anything. Then the scout saucers swarmed at them.
They must have realized that when the rest of our fighters got here, we were just going to sit back and pick them off one at a time, Diane realized.
“Attack!” Diane ordered.
All four began their attack run on the transport. The scout saucers moved to block their shots from hitting the transport, but with the speed and spontaneous changes in direction of the fighters, simple blocking wasn’t working. Diane swung up and as the scout saucers moved to block her shot, she dived, spun, and swept under the transport saucer. She fired
several shots, hitting the underside before breaking off. Nikolaev was doing the same thing from the top. Buddha followed her lead and hit the underside two more times before peeling away.
The transport saucer slowed and began to tip to the front. The last of the scouts abandoned the falling transport and flew directly at them. Diane took out three more saucers before being shot several times by the saucer swarm. A beam shot through the canopy and blasted fragments throughout the cockpit. Ryan yelled out in pain.
“Ry, you hit?”
She shot and hit another scout saucer as the rest of her squadron arrived.
“Aaah, jeez, my left shoulder. I don’t think the beam hit me. Just shrapnel.”
Her fighter craft was losing power rapidly.
“Hang on Ry, I’ll get you out of here.”
Diane aimed at one more scout and pulled the trigger. The cannons did not fire. She pushed the control stick forward and dived for the ocean below.
Chapter 56
“Mayday! Mayday! Jink going down!”
She reported her position as she saw Nikolaev falling from the other side of the battle. Two saucers came after her, but Buddha swept in from the side and shot them before they could get to her. Two more saucers came at Buddha, managing only one hit on the left wing. He was losing altitude and had limited maneuverability, but he circled her falling craft, following her down, protecting her so she wouldn’t get hit again.
After falling for several minutes Diane pulled the ejection levers, separating the cockpit from the craft. The chutes deployed, slowing their descent into the rolling ocean. She took a quick survey of her surroundings. Nikolaev and Buddha had both ejected and were drifting down into the water below. Nikolaev’s wingman was still flying, following them down, circling to provide both protection and a location for their rescue.
