Countdown

by John Walker

  “They are armed, sir. And based on the amount of signals bouncing from the enemy ships and them as well as to the surface, I would say they are providing coordination for the enemy forces as well.”

  Noah smirked. “There’s your target, Nina. We need to take those things out. How many are there?”

  “Ten that are within range to assist the enemy,” Mac said. “They should be removed before attempting to drop the war dogs on the surface. If not, there’s a good chance of losing our deployment prior to them doing any good whatsoever.”

  “You heard him, Nina.” Noah nudged her. “Put together an escort team. They can blast those satellites while ensuring the payload gets where it’s going. Don’t sugar coat what they’re doing. It’ll be hot and I promise the enemy’s going to send some serious fighters to mess with them. But they must take those things out.”

  “Understood.” Nina turned away, tensing up as she reached out to the fighter squadrons.

  Noah understood her posture. He figured she felt obliged to be with those pilots, that maybe she even abandoned them on the eve of the biggest fight of their lives. The first time he sent ground troops into battle, he felt the same way.

  She’ll get over it. I think she’s got a future in this role once she does.

  “We got numbers on those ships yet?” Noah asked.

  “Forty vessels, sir,” Dorian replied. “Four battleship classes, twenty-five destroyers. Looks like reserves to me.”

  “Yep. Let’s hope they don’t drill as hard as their military buddies. They only barely outnumber us, folks. This is doable.”

  “If the Gold Empire ships arrive,” Nina said. “Then we’ll mostly be even.”

  “Don’t forget,” Noah pointed out, “they’re protecting their home before ours. They have more of a vested interest in making this work the first time than we do. They’ll be here. Count on it.” You guys better not make me a fool here. This is your last chance to save some face with a lot of soldiers.

  The fighting would start within minutes. Noah shoved doubts aside, concerns about their allies, and even thoughts of getting home. The only thing that mattered was the mission and how they conducted themselves. When the shooting started, the Confed fleet had to come out on top.

  No other visualized outcome was allowed in his mind.

  Chapter 11

  Newly appointed wing commander Justin Stevens struggled with a wave of nausea as he launched from the Morrigan. He’d been temporarily in charge of operations several times in the past, mostly small runs that involved him and three other pilots. This was a completely different ballgame.

  One with heavy consequences for failure.

  Of all the times to get a promotion. Justin had been struggling with that notion since the moment Nina sat him down. He knew something was afoot before she even opened her mouth. There was a look in her eye, a way she carried herself. Her promotion hadn’t been announced yet and still he knew. I heard about Commander Shelley’s departure.

  To be fair, she hadn’t asked for her two promotions either. That didn’t stop him from feeling some resentment. Logically, he knew she wasn’t dumping the assignment on him. Emotionally, it pissed him off. Command was well aware of the importance of that attack. Change of guard so late in the game jeopardized the mission.

  I guess I could take this to mean they have absolute faith in me. That was a hard sell, one he had to find a way to accept.

  Fortunately, he’d been allowed to bring about a promotion of his own. He elevated Katya Aurans to Captain, making her his second-in-command. The Morrigan was assigned to lead the way and that meant Justin wanted to ensure he had a familiar person at his side… someone he liked.

  Call it a popularity contest, I guess.

  Justin checked his scanner. Fighters from the various Confed ships formed up into a sizable armada, one far larger than he’d ever seen. Ninety percent of their engagements involved a smaller crew than the opposition, fewer vessels that maintained technical superiority. This… was unheard of.

  I guess this is for real.

  The grand total of their forces numbered one hundred sixteen fighters. The most he’d ever seen in an operation at the same time had been sixty. If they coordinated, they had enough firepower to take down a battleship. Of course, they’d be stepping all over each other throughout the engagement as well.

  “Fighters ninety and up,” Justin said, “you’re on escort duty.” They had to get the shuttle full of war dogs to orbit. Once they started descending on the surface, that would be on them. However, before they could get close, the other pilots had to take out at least five of the ten satellites to open them a safe window.

  “Katya,” Justin continued, “we’re taking the left side to open the window. Everyone else, you’re on target of opportunity. Primary targets are all marked but there will be opposition. Your task is to keep us clear of enemy fighters. You are free to engage at will.” The biggest mission he’d ever been on had a similar tactic. Worked alright then.

  God knows I’m playing this by the seat of my pants regardless.

  Scans indicated the enemy ships deployed their own fighters. The briefing suggested a second wave would likely come from the planet’s surface. Nina made it clear they needed to take care of the satellites before reinforcements came. Disrupting their coordination might be enough to win the battle.

  And by extension, the war.

  The fighter squadrons broke formation, cutting at an angle to get around the enemy capital ships. Those vessels needed to remain focused, meaning the smaller units had a good advantage. The defenders had their work cut out for them even if they had a larger force considering all they had to protect.

  When those war dogs get to the surface, they’ll have their work cut out for them. Justin had no idea what the ervas were accustomed to fighting. He doubted they had a plan for contending with strange mechanized AI units bristling with weapons. All on the verge of going insane since being shut down.

  Getting them to stop seemed like a big problem. That was beyond his pay grade, something he chose to ignore.

  Enemy scout vessels broke from the larger contingency, moving to intercept the fighters. Justin marked two of them, running a risk analysis. Their database gave them enough information to provide reasonable suggestions as far as firepower went. Lyson and Harcourt’s studies paid off big.

  Whenever they fought the Gold Empire, they knew how many fighters were required to do any serious damage to a target. This provided the same thing. Twelve ships would be more than enough to tear through the shields as long as everyone remained focused. That meant decent coordination.

  Nina basically showed me how to do this. Justin set up attack runs on the first target, assigning them to the ships all around him. He intended to overwhelm the destroyers, go after them with twice the number required. We can finish these bastards fast. Keeping his attention on flying and assigning attackers made his head throb.

  How the hell did she multitask so well? He began to understand why she’d been selected for her current assignment. Okay, so yeah. Good on her.

  “Hey,” Katya said, “you double assigned people.”

  Shit!

  Justin glanced at the scanner. They’d be in range to fight in less than three minutes. He quickly busted through the ships he’d sent information to, finding the duplicates. Switching them to the other vessel happened fast enough but by the time he finished, beams were flying past his vessel from one of the destroyer’s turrets.

  “We should be good,” Justin called, “sweep in and focus on the side I’ve assigned. You’ll end these pricks fast if you do!” He engaged his afterburners, taking the lead on the first run.

  Turrets opened fire as dozens of blasts flew past him and into the crowd of vessels making their charge. Justin put all of his defensive power into his forward shields, buying himself a good three to five hits before he’d have to break off his charge. The first two hits made the ship shake, his flight stick vibrating violently.r />
  His HUD showed the shields remained at sixty percent. The generator labored to counteract the side effects of the ervas weaponry. Behind him, near the reactor, something began to whine. Some metal parts complained from the strain while working hard to respond to computer’s demands.

  A ship to his left exploded… a green dot indicating an ally winked off his screen followed by a second and a third. Those weren’t from the destroyer. Fighters! The red dots flickered into existence after a fourth ship went up. They laid into them suddenly and from the flank, strafing the whole unit before climbing.

  “Where the hell did they come from?” Katya called.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Justin replied, “come on, guys! You’re on fighter duty! Get those pieces of shit!” He opened fire on the destroyer, bringing the shields to life along with half a dozen of his allies. The ship loomed ahead, defensive shots coming too close for comfort. He pulled up with only a hundred feet between him and a collision.

  As he skimmed the enemy shields, he grunted from the pressure… the g-force crammed him into the seat until his jaw ached and his muscles felt like lead. A good ten seconds of flight time kept him close enough to the enemy ship that it seemed to stretch out before him forever, like skimming the surface of a planet.

  If the enemy had decided to move, to bolt upward while he was there, it would’ve been over. He passed by so close the turrets couldn’t even get a lock on him. None of his companions seemed to be close to him. I can’t take chances like this when I’m in command. That was… irresponsible.

  He pulled up as he reached the opposite side of the destroyer, flipping his shields to the rear. The few moments between leaving it behind and looping around might’ve been the most dangerous of their operation. Turrets reacquired him, chasing his ship despite the afterburners and pushing the ship to the absolute limit.

  “We’re going in for our second run,” Katya called. “Opening fire.”

  Justin craned his neck to watch the assault. Another dozen fighters went after it, maintaining the constant state of fire his group began. Emitters on the ervas hull glowed green, likely burning up as they pumped energy into keeping the defenses live. He wheeled around behind the others, preparing his own run.

  A fighter whizzed by his nose possibly no more than a hundred yards off. Justin remained focused, he didn’t twitch or pull away. One of his allies chased the bastard, firing as he did. That represented another near collision, one so close his heart pounded in his chest. At those speeds, contact would be instantly fatal.

  No time for caution this time around. Justin checked the scanner for the escorts. The shuttle cleared the destroyer target area, but they found themselves entangled with a good number of enemy fighters. Son of a bitch. He checked. They were outnumbered two to one and their opponents fought with some real desperation.

  Their wild maneuvers proved they didn’t care about discomfort, only slowing the persistent movement of the attacking force. Justin found it easy to relate. He knew how he’d feel in their situation, if he happened to be fighting for the survival of Earth… no amount of misery would stop him.

  If you guys hadn’t attacked us… Justin found himself ready for another pass on the destroyer. The engines lit up on the thing. Enemy fighters popped around him, bursting into green balls of flame. The chaos became mind numbing, overwhelming to the point he had to fight hard to remain on task.

  Hit them hard; they want to run.

  The shields were down. Every shot from his fighter peppered the enemy hull, melting some sections, tearing others up and casting them away as molten sparks. He’d picked the section for a reason: the highest concentration of generators happened to be there along with the fact they had fewer defenses so close to the thrusters.

  Justin pulled up far sooner than he had before, wincing as a bright light burst behind him, filling his cockpit with the green glow. He went to engage the afterburners…they were already on. A proximity alert made his pulse race. The HUD showed debris chasing after him, pieces of the enemy ship easily large enough to obliterate him.

  Veering hard to the left, Justin narrowly avoided a piece of thruster that careened past him, plowing through friend and foe alike. He counted five ships taken out, three of his and two of theirs. “Goddammit!” There wasn’t time to worry too much about them, not with other pieces coming after him.

  Flaming chunks accompanied sparks twice the size of his vessel, burning by him as if he were standing still. The reactor must’ve gone up, sending all these pieces our way. The destructive force of the explosion made his head spin. The alert continued blaring. Voices competed in his helmet, other pilots shouting out for status and direction.

  “Get out of the range of the debris!” Justin shouted. He felt like that should’ve been obvious. Darkness settled around him. For half a moment, he thought he might’ve been dead. When he drew a deep breath, he felt his pulse slow down if only barely.

  Scans showed they were down to sixty ships on the field…having lost fifty-six during their initial run between the destroyer, the fighters, and the escorts bringing the war dogs to their destination.

  Jesus Christ.

  Justin noted no enemies near his position. He brought up the comm, contacting the Morrigan. “Nina… we’ve taken some heavy casualties here. Where the hell are the Gold Empire backup ships?” He didn’t want a repeat performance of their joint operation… the one where his people had to pick up all the slack.”

  “They’ll be here,” Nina said. “Hold it together and get that shuttle to its destination.”

  “What’re you guys worrying about?” Justin didn’t recognize the voice at first, but the guy sounded familiar. Someone they’d worked with recently… someone… no, he couldn’t place it. “We’re here.”

  “You took your sweet ass time,” Nina said. “Where’ve you been, Pol?”

  “Our battleships are older than yours,” Pol Komlin replied, “but we get where we’re going. And our fighters are on the way to support you, Commander Stevens. See you momentarily to make the final push.”

  “How many of you are there?” Justin asked.

  “Seventy fighters total and we’re halfway to your position now. Too bad you’re not out here, Larson. I could’ve saved your ass or something.”

  Oh God, please don’t flirt with my CO.

  Justin shook his head, directing the various squadrons to form up for the push on the satellites. They still had their primary objective at hand and a lot of space to put between them. As the capital ships began their own dance, he anticipated the next run to be much worse than the first.

  We wasted too much time on that capital ship. I hope the escorts have started in on the satellites or we’re in for a shit situation in a few minutes. Justin jammed the throttle forward, setting a waypoint for the others to keep well away from the larger vessels. I think we’ve had enough of them for this fight. Let’s stick to the task at hand.

  ***

  Noah had Dorian switch the viewscreen to a tactical map, displaying a grid which provided an accurate representation of distance. This allowed him to assign the different ships in his fleet to their opponents, ensuring he had proper distribution of his forces. He wanted to focus on the destroyers while fending off the battleships.

  Those smaller vessels represented a serious threat if they were able to focus their fire. They could technically tear through just about any ship they had. Goddamn Gold Empire battleships need to show up. We’d have this under control if they did. Fortunately, the scouts made it. Which meant they could go vessel to vessel with the enemy gunships.

  While the fighters made their way to their target areas, the Morrigan proceeded to charge the defending capital vessels. If the war dogs made it to the surface, chances were good the fight would be all but done. Which basically meant the attacking fleet had only two primary objectives: the satellites and the ships.

  Communications… then their ability to retaliate from orbit.

  The fighters met heavy re
sistance as they escorted the war dogs to their attack point. One of the enemy destroyers broke off. Nina spoke quietly into her microphone. Noah let her work, ignoring that in lieu of the impending conflict dead ahead. The scouts met their targets, starting a chaotic dance that looked like the slower version of dogfighting.

  Their opponents were smaller, more maneuverable but it became clear the Confed ships had the firepower advantage. Three of the ervas gunships went down in short order but those that remained proved to have incredible firing discipline, really going after one threat at a time. They used the tactic to good effect, chewing through a destroyer in a matter of seconds.

  Christ… those things aren’t to be underestimated.

  Noah leaned to the conn, “Gold Empire scouts, I need you to reinforce the destroyers. Coordinate appropriately.” The tactical board showed their dots alter course, moving in to assist.

  One of the ervas battleships fired a full barrage into their flank. When the beam winked out, three ships were gone… totally obliterated from the strike. Their shields did nothing against the attack, their armor proved useless. And they weren’t particularly close either. It had been an extreme-range assault.

  “I need all battleships to intercept theirs immediately,” Noah said. “Full speed. Support the smaller ships. They can’t stand against that kind of firepower.”

  “This looks rough,” Nina said. “I recommend we divert course. Break the larger vessels up into two groups and hit the enemy flanks. We don’t want them to move too much. Should give us the advantage.”

  “BS Three and four,” Noah called out, “move to the following coordinates and fire when ready.” He painted a waypoint for them to follow. “BS One and two, you’ve got the opposite side… follow those coordinates. BS Five, you’re with us as we head straight up the middle.” He nodded to her. “Good call. I like it.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Nina returned to the comms, speaking to the pilots again.

  A tremendous explosion off to the right caught Noah’s attention, one bright enough to light them up from the viewport behind them. He turned to his own terminal, noting one of the enemy destroyers had been taken down by their fighters. He felt good about it for a moment… until he noted how many of their ships remained in the field.