Ambush

by G J Moses

  Confusion showed on his face as he turned to look at Zeke. Gripping his own harness, Zeke tugged, reminding Hawke what he needed to do. Eyes lighting up in understanding, Hawke sat and started strapping in.

  Turning his attention back to the screen, Zeke was just in time to watch as the third volley deploy and detonate just as the four fighters reached them. Again, the screens darkened waiting for an update. When they came back on, only one fighter icon from the first group could be seen.

  But it was obvious that they now recognized the danger. All three remaining fighters swung wide out of the path of the fourth volley.

  “Oh well, that went much better than I expected. Prepare to repel fighters.”

  “Captain, Gunner here. I would like permission to launch with one other fighter. We want to see what the Chohish fighters are like before we reach Niflhel. With only three fighters left, best time to check them out even with the risk.”

  He was going to reject Gunners request, but after more consideration, realized Gunner was right. Best to see what their fighters were like before they encountered more.

  “Gunner, permission granted. Launch when ready. But make it fast, OK? And be careful, both of you!”

  His answer was the slight shaking caused by a fighter exiting both fighter bays at full thrust.

  Feeling the shaking brought back Zeke’s past when he was a fighter pilot. He was a fighter pilot before and after they stopped using catapults to launch fighters. The catapults were great until they broke down or took damage. There were too many times fully functional fighters sat idle in a battle because they could not be launched. The new process reverted to an old proven method. Fighters now launched out of the bays on their own power with a large blast shield that could be raised up behind a fighter readying for takeoff by hydraulics or by hand if necessary. Once launched, it could then be lowered to open the space for their return.

  “Isolde, patch me in to Gunners cockpit. I want to hear what is going on.”

  It was only a second before Zeke heard Gunner’s voice come out of the speakers on the back of his command chair. “Ok Librada, let’s do this the way we discussed. I will lead, you are my acting wingman. We will go after the lead bogey and see what the other two bogies do.”

  “Roger that Gunner, forming up on your right side. Seems they have noticed us and adjusting accordingly. From what I can tell, their fighters are a bit slower than ours on normal thrust. Bogey two and three are not accelerating. Cannot tell if they have afterburners or not. Sure, does not look like it.”

  “Roger that Librada, I concur with your opinion. Well, let’s go see what they can do.”

  Watching the fighter icons, Zeke could see they were getting close to fighting range. Fighters had two main missiles mounted underneath and a pair of lasers located on each side of the cockpit with the power plant in the rear of a fighter. Zeke liked where the lasers were positioned as he always thought it helped tremendously with targeting.

  Listening closely, Zeke could tell when Gunner kicked in his afterburners. Not only from the increased sound of the thrusters, but the heavy grunt from Gunner as the inertia dampers could not compensate fully for the sudden change in speed.”

  “I am going wide left, Librada, you cut wide right. Let’s see how he reacts to a pincer move.”

  “Roger that, going right.”

  “Patch in Gunner’s cockpit view on the left side monitor, Isolde, I want to see what he sees”.

  The monitor changed its display before Zeke even finished asking. The view was now of dark space with pinpoints of light that was overlaid with a computer-generated icon of the three enemy fighters in red and the standard green for RGN fighters. One of the red icons was much closer than the other two.

  Having been a fighter pilot for a good part of his career, Zeke knew that Gunner and Librada had been in their own missile firing range for a while. What were they waiting for? Why didn’t the first enemy fighter hang back waiting for the other two fighters before engaging? Then again, why are they still coming on? Then he remembered what Hawke said… total lack of fear and stubbornness.

  Suddenly, Gunner’s cockpit alarm for a missile lock sounded, followed by the AI reporting “Incoming missile detected, take evasive action.”

  “Ok Librada, you take bogey one out. Watch out for the other two. I want to see how good their missiles are and their range. Be right back.”

  Again, his prior experience told Zeke what Gunner was doing and why. Knowing what you were facing was critical. And leading marines to a planet without knowing was potential suicide. Better here. Doing it now could save many lives down the road, but it was risky, very risky.

  Listening and watching the action as it played out did not make it any easier for Zeke, who had been in a similar situation before. Nor was it for another, based on the expression on her face.

  Having flown the make and model that Gunner was flying, he knew the fighter was fast. It is not easy to outrun or outsmart a missile. You had to maintain a cool head along with a steady hand on the control stick. The trick was to avoid it until it ran out of fuel and continue on without guidance, or much riskier, trick it in such a way it lost track of you.

  It was hard to watch and tell what was happening if you had never flown a fighter, but Zeke knew. You had to monitor the missile icon constantly while never losing track of the other bogeys at the same time you were diving, twisting, anything to keep the missile off you.

  The grunts and curses were constant as Gunner was slammed against his restraints repeatedly. Turning his fighter in tight turns would gain him a second or two, but then the missile would adjust and make up those seconds and more with its speed. Again, and again, Gunner avoided the missile hitting his fighter by the slimmest of margins. And just when it seemed the missile would finally impact, Gunner threw the fighter into a hard reverse by moving each of his two thrusters so one pointed downward and one upward while using his positional jets to flip the fighter, reset the thrusters back to their normal configuration and hitting his afterburner while diving down in a spiral. Only an expert working with the fighter AI could do this trick quickly enough. The missile flew past and continued without changing direction.

  A tiny scream broke the air. Zeke turned to see a pale Isolde gasping by her terminal.

  But Gunner was not the only activity taking place, Isolde had put Librada’s fighter view on the right-hand screen. She was hot on the tail of the enemy fighter.

  Watching carefully, Zeke could see why Gunner had Librada with him, she was no novice. Every move by the enemy fighter was matched by Librada. A zig here, a zag there, the pilot could not shake Librada who kept gaining on him. Keeping an eye on the other two enemy fighters who were about to enter engagement zone, he saw the tiny icon of a missile firing from Librada’s fighter. The missile was in such proximity to the first fighter that Zeke knew its chances were very high that it would hit its target. But even so, Zeke was surprised by the immediate firing of her second missile at another enemy fighter.

  And then he heard Gunner’s fighter firing both of his missiles. Looking over, he saw that Gunner had not rested after avoiding the missile, but had flown directly back into the engagement zone. Something the opposing fighters had missed while concentrating on Librada.

  In less than a minute, all three red icons were gone. “Wow, I have been out of the cockpit too long. They are good, really good.” thought Zeke.

  “Great job Librada, awesome! Time to head back, we learned what we needed. Gunner out.”

  “Lieutenant Commander Chandler, get those two fighters back on-board ASAP. Once back, put a priority on refueling and rearming both. We are running out of time.”

  “Acknowledge that Captain, will let you know when both fighters have landed and secured. It will take twenty minutes to complete refuel and rearming once they are back on board.”

  “Make it sooner, we need them to be ready for action as quickly as possible. Captain out.”

  It was tense half
dozen minutes waiting for the fighters to get back in range of the cruiser. And then another few minutes while they lined up and flew into the fighter bays. The cruiser slowed down to quarter speed to minimize risk. Once they landed safely, the cruiser went back to maximum thrust.

  Meanwhile, Will, with the sensors relaying the enemy ship positions onto his console’s, kept his left index finger poised over the button ready to execute the program he had worked out for the countermeasures. It would be several more minutes before he would press the button, but the pressure on his psyche was already building.

  The reverberation of eight MK-XIIs being fired from their bays took several by surprise. These few had become so entranced with the fighter fight, they forgot they were headed towards an enemy fleet.

  In just a few moments, the ship reached their maximum speed. Coincidentally, just as they did, the warning klaxons sounded.

  “Eeeoooeeeooo bip bip eeeoooeeeooo, eeeoooeeeooo bip bip eeeoooeeeooo”

  “The Chohish have launched twenty-eight missiles.” reported Caspian.

  Acknowledging the update, Zeke kept his face impassive. They all knew there would be at least several more volleys before they were through. It would be a miracle if they survived.

  The ship raced on.

  In another few seconds another eight MK-XIIs were sent on their way. The latest uplift of the missile system allowed them to double what they would have been able to send out just a few months ago. The new magazines cut loading rate in half and now contained ten missiles each versus the old ones that held six. The newer ships, like the Lucky Strike, now carried three additional spare magazines for each missile tube. And Will and Hawke planned to make use of that capability.

  A third set of missile launches shook the ship before tracking reported twenty-four more were launched by the Chohish. These missiles, though, were not in one solid batch but staggered. The coordination between the different ships seemed to be lacking. And there were four less missiles. The damaged destroyer? No way to know for sure.

  The minutes ticked slowly by with the constant thunder of the MK-XIIs volleys breaking the silence. Everyone went about their tasks, but there was no mistaking the stress they were feeling. The jittery hands, nervous twitches, quick glances at the Captain, and more.

  These did not pass Zeke’s notice, nor were they uncommon. He knew that the period before the action started was the worst. When your mind has time to think of all the things that could go wrong. Would you let your teammates down? Would you be alive tomorrow? But he also knew, once the engagement started, they would all relax. At that point, their training and skills would guide their actions. And there was no better crew that Zeke could have asked for.

  It was odd that in this modern age of space flight, with unheard of speed from just several centuries ago, that it took another minute or two before the two opposing missile groups passed each other. Unlike the heroic fantasy space wars in movies and books, todays wars were not fought at close range. Vast distances separated the two opposing forces.

  Taking a second, Zeke paused to check out the enemy ship signatures built by the computers now that they were in range for a more detailed analysis. Each of the ships had a wide blunt bow utilitarian type of design with no attempt made at comfort or eye appeal. More like a rounded block narrowing of the front. A good portion of the structure was covered in electronic gear of unknown use. The battleship sized ship had what looked like five huge openings on each side that had to be missile launchers. The other ships had the same design, but much smaller, and a smaller number of openings.

  Sighing, Zeke checked on the MK-XIIs progress and smiled. Now it was their turn.

  As planned, the Lucky Strikes first salvo had all been targeted on just one destroyer. The Chohish were able to knock out six, but their integrated point defense did not seem up to the same standard as their own ships were. The last two missiles reached their destination and deployed their warheads close to the destroyer. The blast lit up the area and hid what happened next. The display only showed a white light in that area for a few seconds and when it cleared, the destroyer in question was not to be seen. Just a field of debris.

  Looking at the video of the destroyer debris, Zeke was very puzzled. Even though the cruiser missiles were much larger and more powerful than those from a destroyer or a fighter, the damage he was seeing was way out of proportion to normal expectations. Some damage he expected, but whole destroyers being destroyed in one pass, never!

  What seemed like many long minutes passing, it was less than a half minute later that the second salvo reached the next targeted destroyer. This time the Chohish point defense was even less effective. The destroyer was a good distance away from the larger ships and lacked some of their covering fire. Four missiles made it through this time. The destroyer was still intact, but it was obvious it was not going to ever be used again. Debris was scattered all around the drifting hull.

  And again, Zeke saw something that surprised him. There should have been some escape pods, but he could not find a one. Very puzzling indeed.

  But they could not rejoice just yet. Soon enough, the point defense came online and started firing. The RGN had learned the value of a good point defense and had made some serious advances in the last several decades. Lucky Strike had the latest and it showed.

  It was only a few seconds behind the point defense firing that Will pushed the button for the countermeasures. Electronic chaff, miniature ECM missiles, small missiles laying out a pattern of explosions, and a half dozen other types were being launched from multiple sections of the ship. All were following a pattern being managed by Will and Hawke.

  The point defense knocked out a good half of the first salvo in short order. The countermeasures knocked out the rest all but for three in the first wave. But those three got close enough that the ships AI fired off half a dozen of the secondaries. The AI fire was right on target and the final three were eliminated before they detonated. Everyone sighed in relief.

  Again, the waiting. Most could smell their own sweat and perspiration as the cleaners could only do so much. A few would swear it was their own overwhelming fear they smelled. Not of dying, but fearing that they would let their fellow crew members down.

  And while they waited, they all worked frantically to make any last-minute changes their training told them was necessary. They knew the next salvo, and possibly death, was heading towards them and only seconds away.

  Just before the enemy missiles reached them, their third salvo reached the last destroyer. The Chohish destroyer tried to move out of range. But they had made their move too late. A majority of the MK-XIIs made it through and when the light dissipated, again, there was another destroyer drifting in a debris field, again, with no escape pods.

  But now they were the ones that were going to be pounded. The next salvo flew new patterns that showed the enemy AI was learning. Point defense was taking missiles out one after the other, but the countermeasures were not getting near what it had prior. Will and the AI was using all the secondaries, but still, Zeke could see that several were going to get through.

  Without warning, the Lucky Strike shook violently before yawning heavily to starboard. Items that had been secured broke away and flew across the bridge. Damage alarms flashed and several screens stuttered and died. Smoke billowed up from several workstations.

  And then the ship was hit again. Zeke was thrown against his restraints and groaned from the pain his chest registered. A scream started only to quit abruptly. Metal stress creaks were loud and often. The ship rolled before it straightened out and continued. Smoke drifted lazily in the air in rapidly increasing volume.

  “Jax, damage report. How bad were we hit?”

  It was a few anxious seconds before Zeke could tell someone had opened communications on the other end. No words at first, but there was no doubt that the ship had been hit hard. You could hear small explosions, and worst of all, people screaming in pain.

  In a high raspy voice, Jax ca
me across the speakers. “Captain, we took two major hits on the port side. We lost several storage compartments, living areas and power conduits. Currently working on rerouting of power to secondary or alternate routes. The power plants and engines are still operational, and no armament compromised, yet. Captain, we cannot sustain many more hits like those.”

  Before Zeke could ask, Jax continued in a somber tone. “Just a rough count right now, but it looks like we lost a dozen and another several dozen or so injured, several seriously. I am having to bring some of the engineers over from the starboard side to assist.”

  “Understand Jax, but I need you to stay on top of it, keep us in the fight. Captain out.”

  And it got no better. Again, and again, as each successive wave of missiles arrived, the Lucky Strike was hit and suffered damage. It was not all one sided though. Each successive missile volley contained less and less missiles.

  How the ship was still able to continue was only due to the engineers under Jax. But not without casualties. Repairing ruptured power lines and energy transfer stations meant that the engineers had to place themselves where the ship was the most vulnerable. A good many paid with their lives.

  The Lucky Strike, after what seemed forever, was now in the estimated range of the Chohish energy weapons, per Hawke’s best guess, and the next enemy salvo was close behind. That is when Hawke executed Jax’s programs.

  The ship did a stutter, where it jumped sideways a short distance, which it repeated and again. The AI, using all the maneuvering jets on one side, pushed the ship sideways at the exact same time as it stopped all forward thrust. It was only for a short burst and nanoseconds in time, but when you are moving as fast as they were, the distance moved was massive. The potential for damaging the engines and leaving them without forward thrust was also enormous.

  And it could not have come at a better time. Just as they jerked sideways for the third time, the enemy battleship fired their front laser. Zeke could swear he could hear the laser go by the Lucky Strike it was so close. What he did notice though, was that as the laser was about to be fired, the display showed the electronic signature of the laser tip turning from pale to pure white. Not sure what the actual color was but that was how the computer interpreted it. How that would help, he had no time to ponder on, as the ship was reeling from the effects of the laser blast.