“What the hell are you doing here?”
“First rule of combat flight, always know where your wingman is. Couldn’t do that from back there,” Headcase replied, the smile evident in his voice. Glenn shook his head again. Though he could be a military grade pain-in-the-ass, Glenn couldn’t ask for a better wingman. Headcase got his call sign for his battle tactics, or lack thereof. Instead of the more common technique of evading fire and striking the enemy at the opportune moment, Headcase had the seemingly suicidal tendency to charge at his enemies, full throttle and guns blazing. It was an effective show of force that scared the shit out of both his fellow pilots, and the AI in the flight simulators. Glenn figured this was the way he was used to solving his problems, as even out of the cockpit, he was a six foot tall, muscular monster of a human being.
“You could have told me you were here sooner.”
“Then you woulda told me to go back.” They were staring at each other out of their cockpits but split up momentarily as they were both perfectly aware of the approaching asteroid.
“Affirmative,” Glenn said with a laugh as he resumed visually scanning the asteroid field.
“Why did you ignore our orders, anyway?”
“These pirates are especially dangerous. I couldn’t risk letting them get away.”
“No danger for us though. You know what they say.”
“Nothing in Hell can stop a Timberwolf,” Glenn finished his thought with the motto of the Timberwolf squadron, the flight squadron attached to Resolution. He glanced at the green and white emblem on Head Case’s dorsal fin to solidify that resolve.
In Glenn’s moment of personal reflection Headcase had been closely watching his RLADAR. “Contact, six o’clock!” But it was too late to react. An explosion violently shook both ships but did little damage.
“That was close. Let’s discourage that behavior.” In unison, both fighters flipped bow over stern without losing momentum, while simultaneously rolling back onto the same plane they started on, and opened fire on the pirate vessel.
Having lost the element of surprise and clearly met its match in fire power, the pirate vessel returned to its original plan of escape. It accelerated and flew over the fighters. Flipping back to the direction of their momentum, the fighters split up to increase their flanking and accelerated after them.
“Prepare the EMP missiles,” Glenn ordered, “Make sure you’re close enough to get a lock but don’t get yourself fried.”
“Sure thing, boss.” The pirate vessel launched a device from a port on the aft section of the ship, which was lobbed at Glenn’s craft with surprising accuracy. He pulled away but was still hit with enough force from the explosion to nearly send him careening into an asteroid.
“These guys are good. Those are proximity charges. They don’t have to hit us to detonate.”
“That’s okay, we’ve got fancy toys too,” Headcase laughed as he launched an EMP missile. The device flew at breakneck speed towards the pirate vessel, and appeared to be on target, but smashed itself into a wandering asteroid. It was just short of the range needed to knock out the electronics on the fleeing ship. “Damn it all to hell.”
“Relax. We just need to get closer.” Both craft accelerated and were shortly within five kilometers of the pirate vessel. Following this closely made dodging the proximity charges exponentially more difficult. After several close calls, two charges were released simultaneously and came close enough to send both fighter craft careening off course.
Glenn had to bring his fighter to a complete stop to regain his bearings. “Headcase, you alright?”
There was a brief delay before Headcase responded, sounding more shaken than was in his character. “I’m alright, boss, but my targeting computer is shot.”
“Alright, just hang back a bit and give me cover fire on my approach,” Glenn ordered as they resumed course.
“I don’t think we’ll get the chance.” Glenn was about to ask what he meant when he noticed the fleeing vessel was pulling up towards the wide edge of the asteroid field, and open space. “Looks like it’s time for their rendezvous.”
“Shit! There’s no way we can catch up with them in time to launch an EMP.”
“Should we call the whole thing off?”
“No. We can’t afford to let these bastards get away. A lot of people will die if they keep operating. I think our standard ordinance will make it to them before they go to warp.”
“I didn’t think we were authorized for lethal force.”
“I’m making a field decision. Just follow me.” Glenn accelerated even harder and tried to travel at a shorter arch than the pirates. As they approached the edge of the field, a klaxon alerted Glenn that he had a weapons lock. He hesitated for just a moment before pressing and holding the button at the top of his joystick, launching his entire payload at the ship just as it flew free of the asteroid field.
He involuntarily held his breath as his ordinance glided towards its target. He could see the beginning of a warp field forming, but the missiles made contact with the hull before the ship could disappear. There was an immediate and dramatic explosion as the pirate vessel was reduced to shrapnel. Glenn released his breath in a sigh of relief and regret.
Chapter 5
The battle of Rutilicus
June 13 2213
0600
Capaldi System
Harper’s heart was pounding in his ears as he walked briskly down the corridor of D deck to the pilot's briefing room. It had been a long night, pulling the Saratoga out of the asteroid field and warp towing it to the Capaldi system.
The Resolution was currently docked with the U.N.S. Sylvania, a supply ship that would replenish Resolution's provisions and continue towing the Saratoga to the nearest repair station. Harper hadn’t slept in well over 24 hours, which amplified his anger when he had learned of Glenn’s hot pursuit through the asteroid field.
When he entered the briefing room, Glenn was standing at the podium engrossed in a data tablet. When Harper’s presence was finally noticed, Glenn slowly stood at attention.
“As you were, Major.” In response Glenn returned to the podium.
“Anything I can do for you, Commander?”
“You can tell me what the hell you thought you were doing out there.”
“I don’t understand the question, sir.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You were given explicit orders.”
Glenn appeared to lose interest and continued scrolling through the data on his device. “And I followed them.”
The Major’s snarky attitude was bringing Harper’s anger to a boiling point. He took a breath before continuing. “Excuse me? I was here for the briefing, I think I would remember if you were given clearance to hunt down and destroy those pirates.”
“Our orders were to locate the Saratoga and if possible the pirates. I achieved both.”
“The Saratoga was priority.”
“And that priority was dealt with. I took myself… and one other pilot, on the chase. The Saratoga was taken care of.”
“What you call a chase, turned into an execution.”
“I did what I had to,” Glenn barked and turned towards Harper.
“Pirates or not, without proof that they are stateless, we are to consider them citizens of a United Nations and Colonies world. Without being an immediate threat, they cannot be met with lethal force by the military.” He was nearly in the Major’s face.
Glenn didn’t flinch, and replied through clenched teeth, “With their firepower and apathy for human life, I considered them an immediate threat. The Captain happens to agree with me.”
Harper matched his glare for a long moment before stepping away and stopping at the edge of the raised platform without looking back. “I’m aware of the Captain’s opinion. But if you continue to fly without regard to orders I will make sure he takes your wings.” Harper continued out of the room, leaving Glenn to watch after him in silence.
; Moments later, Harper was staring at the hatch to the Captain’s ready room. He tapped the illuminated button to the right and heard a muffled tone from inside followed by the Captain summoning him in. There was a thud as the hatch wheel automatically turned. Harper pulled it and let himself inside.
Pulling the door behind him, Harper took in the room. It was the first time he had seen the ready room since he had come onboard. It was semicircular and about half the size of the forward section of the bridge. The aft walls, Captain's desk, and a table off to the side supporting a bottle of dark liquid and several pieces of glassware, were a medium toned wood that glowed in the bright recessed lighting. The furniture was all well stitched, taut, black leather.
The curved forward wall appeared to be a giant viewport into open space, giving the impression that the room was floating alone in the vacuum. This was an illusion created by a transparent screen that could be turned off to reveal the flight deck below. Harper pondered that the room would be the last place to discipline a crew member, as it was nearly impossible to feel anything but at ease in this tranquil chamber. McLeod was sitting behind the desk, staring into the endless artificial view on the window.
“Captain,” Harper called quietly.
McLeod pulled himself from his quiet reverie and turned his chair. “Yes, Commander?”
Harper reached out with a data pad in hand. “The Sylvania has departed, this is our updated manifest.”
Captain McLeod took the pad with a curious look. “Is there something else? You could have transferred this to me remotely.”
Harper glanced at his feet, considering his words carefully. Deciding there was nothing like being direct, he replied, “I noticed the manifest transfer included a confidential file from the Personnel Department.”
“And you inferred it would be the response to your promotional review?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, you were right.”
Harper willed himself to not allow the swelling happiness to show outwardly, but soon found the effort in vain. “May I ask what it said?”
“It looks like you’ll be here a while longer. They don’t feel you’re ready to have your own command, just yet.”
Harper’s heart sank, but he kept his composure. “Understood, sir.” He considered requesting to be dismissed, but he could tell McLeod was expecting, and waiting for, the follow up question. “Did the report include an explanation?”
“Yes. They followed my recommendation.” Harper felt a pang of anger and confusion, but stayed silent. McLeod motioned to the seat across the desk as he walked over to the table with the bottle of dark liquid. Harper sank into the seat, doing his best not to slump. “Do you like your scotch neat or on the rocks?”
“On the rocks,” escaped Harper’s lips before he could think. He considered his lack of judgment for a moment and decided that it wasn’t anything to worry about. He was essentially off duty, and he could consider an offer from the Captain for a glass of scotch, a direct order. He was pulled back to reality by the glass being waved in front of his face, sans ice.
“Sorry, I don’t keep ice anywhere near my scotch.” Harper took the glass and put the glass to his nose as McLeod rounded the desk, and sat back down. “Go ahead, Commander. Say what’s on your mind.”
Harper thought his words out carefully. “To be honest, I don’t understand it. I rose to a command position in the Sol Space Defense Force in two years, and reached the rank of Commander in the U.N. Navy in the same time. There are lieutenants getting their own commands. I just don’t understand why you would recommend my career trajectory be stopped here. Why you feel I’m unworthy of my own ship.”
McLeod stared him down for a moment, and then smiled. “John, you misunderstand me. You’re more worthy of your own ship than every one of those lieutenants combined. I didn’t recommend that you stay put because I think you’re not good enough. I recommended against your transfer because you are too valuable to let you suffer the same fate of circumstance that they have.”
Harper searched for a way to accept that as an answer, but couldn't find one. “I don’t understand.”
“Those officers you speak of were thrown into command because we’re at war, and we need every ship out there that we can get. Their careers will suffer from their lack of experience. It may even be the death of them. I can’t let that happen to you. You are an asset to this navy, not just for the war, but whatever else the future may bring. Besides, those officers are being put in small short range tactical vessels. You deserve better. I can even see you commanding one of the next carriers.”
“What do I need to do to be ready?”
“You need to throw the book out. You know everything the rules say you need to do to be a good commanding officer, and you do it fantastically. What they don’t teach you as a cadet is that being a Captain requires more than rules. You need principles, an instinct to improvise, and the ability to make decisions when the rules don’t hold the answers.”
“I just hope I can figure that all out before the war is over.”
McLeod laughed and ascended from his seat. He walked up to the view port and gazed into the artificial view, drink in hand. “I don’t think you have to worry about that. Two things are certain these days; the worlds keep turning, and they keep coming. Here’s to job security.”
Harper raised his glass. “Cheers.”
He began to raise the glass to his lips for the first time, but was interrupted by a klaxon and Parker’s unnaturally unsteady voice, “Captain, to the Bridge”
McLeod glanced at him knowingly. “Speak of the devils and they may come.”
As Harper and McLeod entered the bridge it was as if the air pressure regulators were malfunctioning. The tension in the room was palpable, as the bridge officers were already preparing for the inevitable.
“Report,” McLeod called out.
Sato was the first to speak, “Early warning beacon at Rutilicus indicates unidentified ships approaching.”
McLeod nodded his head, having already expected that information. Though at full range the early warning beacons would be unable to differentiate Salaxian ships from any other non-human vessel, all the bridge personnel knew there was little chance of it being anything else.
“Battle stations. Parker, set the flight deck to amber,” McLeod ordered.
“Aye, sir,” Parker replied as she began ordering her subordinates to ready all fighters and raise the gamma watch pilots from their beds. Harper set to work with Lane to ensure all weapon systems were primed and loaded.
“Engineering,” McLeod said as he flicked a switch on his arm rest.
“Miles here.”
“Prime the warp engine. We’re going to need every bit of power we have.”
“Understood.”
“Helm, set a course. Maximum warp.”
“Aye, sir. Course is set. Engine is at maximum power.”
“Do it!”
A moment later, Resolution disappeared in a blinding flash.
* * *
Harper’s heart was racing as he watched Rutilicus I’s solitary moon penetrate Resolution’s warp field. When the flickering warp field disappeared from the forward view ports, the scene that unfolded in front of them was one of chaos and destruction. Above Rutilicus I loomed a fleet of six Salaxian ships. Each of them shaped like a giant black spike.
The Salaxian fleet consisted of one dreadnought, as humans had come to refer to them as, 800 meters in length and armed with overwhelming fire power. These were the vessels that had unleashed massive destruction planet side during the first Salaxian attacks. The remaining Salaxian vessels were the 300-meter battle cruisers that the Salaxians had started sending when the U.N.C. Navy had established a fleet.
The Salaxian fleet was actively engaged with the five U.N.C. ships that had already arrived. Four of them were fully armed battleships. Harper saw the transponder indicator of a stealth ship, the U.N.S. Grayback, stalking one of the Salaxian cruisers.
> “Good, we’ve arrived just in time to even the odds,” Harper said, just loud enough for the McLeod to hear. No sooner had the words left his lips, He spotted the U.N.S. Beowulf on a true course for the dreadnought’s bow. The dreadnought was preoccupied with its attack on the planet surface, but that didn’t make the Beowulf’s attack run any less suicidal.
Harper gripped the railing behind him with white knuckle force and watched helplessly as the bow cone on the dreadnought dilated, revealing a faint red glow. Within seconds that faint glow became blindingly bright, and released a red beam stretching across the space between the two ships.
The Beowulf’s forward momentum was quickly slowed to a halt as the beam struck their bow. It only took seconds for the beam to melt through the Fomalanium and ignite the oxygen inside the ship. The hull bloated and a brief flame emitted from every viewport on the ship, until finally the ship was nothing more than a blackened metal husk, floating wildly away from the dreadnought.
Harper barely had time to process what had just happened when he heard McLeod shouting orders. “Parker, launch all fighters. Tell them to split up and take on the cruisers. The dreadnought is ours. Palmer, set on an arched approach to its aft port flank.”
* * *
Glenn was experiencing a new level of anticipation as he had jumped into his cockpit. It had been a long time since he had gone toe to toe with the Salaxians. Most of his time as a planetary defense fighter had been spent defending against pirates and hunting down smugglers.
His heart almost stopped when the forward doors of the flight deck slammed open to reveal their opponents. He had never heard of the Salaxians sending more than three ships at a time, but there in front of him was a squadron of six Salaxian ships led by an unscathed dreadnought. He flinched as the Dreadnought decimated one of the U.N.C. battleships. A moment later Parker’s voice came over his helmet speaker, “All fighters, flight deck is green. Split up into even groups and attack the cruisers. Leave the dreadnought to us.”
“Alright ladies and gents you heard her,” he called out to his fighters as one of his screens displayed the group assignments fed from Flight Operations. “Red group is with me. Stick with your wingman and for the love of all things sacred, remember to stay out of the way of our battleships when they fire.”
Resolution: Bad Star Page 6