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Counterstrike

Page 25

by D. J. Holmes


  “Two squadrons Admiral,” the officer replied at once. “One squadron from Icarus and one from bulk carrier four.”

  “Launch them both now,” Chen ordered. “Send all our carriers to battlestations. I want every fighter sortied as soon as they are able. Don’t wait for their squadrons to form up. Just launch fighters as soon as the pilots get to them.”

  “Right away Admiral,” the officer of the watch replied. She turned and gestured to her subordinates. “You heard him, start sending the orders.” She turned back to Chen. “May I ask Commodore, what is going on?”

  Chen didn’t turn away from the holo projection of the Karacknid base as he answered her. “If I was going to launch a fighter attack against our fleet. Now is exactly when I’d do it. Send a flash alert to Drake. Inform Admiral Somerville I believe the Karacknids may be planning to hit us.” Pausing for a second as the officer sent the communication from her console, Chen turned fully to face her. “How long until we can have all our fighters launched?”

  The officer turned to one of her subordinates and he answered for her. “Fifteen minutes Admiral. It will take the next five to start really getting our numbers up after we launch the two emergency squadrons. But then our numbers will rise rapidly.”

  Chen shook his head. The solar flare was two and a half minutes away. If the Karacknids launched as soon as it hit the planet and followed the flare as it passed the planet and enveloped the Allied Fleet, they’d be on his ships in ten minutes at the most. Unconsciously the fingers on his right hand twitched. “There’s no time to match up pilots with their fighters. Stick pilots in whatever fighters they can get to quickest. Don’t bother arming any with plasma missiles or taking them off the fighters that have them, there is no time,” he ordered before he turned and moved to leave the flight ops.

  “Where are you going Commodore?” the officer on watch called.

  Chen didn’t turn as he answered her. “Every pilot we have is needed and I’m already in my flight suit. Get me a fighter ready to launch.” Leaving flight ops, he broke into a jog. It took just thirty seconds to descend the nearest stairs to the flight deck. Without pausing he ran to the nearest fighter that was sitting in a launch tube. “Whose fighter is this?” he called to the tech that was working on the craft.

  “Flight Captain Barrett,” the tech answered as she stood up from the panel she had been hunched over.

  “Well it’s mine now,” Chen replied. “Is she ready to launch?”

  “She’s not equipped with her plasma missile,” the tech responded as she shook her head.

  Chen waved away her concerns. “That’s not a problem. Her fuel status?” He knew that every fighter that was kept in a launch tube had to be fully fueled. Yet he wanted to make sure.

  “She’s full,” the tech answered. “As soon as I finish up here, she will be launch ready.”

  Chen was already climbing the ladder into the cockpit. “Finish up at once. As soon as I finish the pre-flight checks, I’m out of here.”

  The tech’s eyes widened. “Yes Admiral, I’ll do it immediately,” she said as she bent over again and her hands frantically worked within the Spitfire’s open access panel.

  As soon as his butt hit the flight seat, Chen hit the button to lower the canopy. He flicked switches as he powered up the Spitfire’s engine and impulse drive. Doublechecking his fuel status and then the condition of his plasma cannons he gave a nod when he was satisfied. Twisting his head, he checked to see that the tech had finished her work. She was standing several meters away and raised a thumb when he looked at her. As he waved back, Chen keyed the Spitfire’s COM unit with his other hand. “Prometheus flight ops, this is Commodore Chen. Requesting permission to launch.”

  “Commodore, you have a launch slot in thirty seconds. You’ve been assigned the callsign Trigger-happy,” the flight Lieutenant informed him tentatively.

  Chen shook his head as he cracked a smile. He had no idea who had come up with the callsign but they were observant. Whoever it was, he intended to get them back but there was no time to worry about such things at the moment. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” he replied in a perfectly professional tone. “Launching now,” he followed up when his fighter told him the launch tube was ready.

  As soon as Prometheus shot him into space, Chen pulled back on his flight stick and banked up and over the battle carrier. He settled his Spitfire’s nose onto a direct course for the Karacknid fleet base. A quick check of his sensors told him the solar flare was less than thirty seconds away from the planet. Quickly he keyed his COM unit to the channel every fighter already in space used. “Listen up pilots,” he said to them. “This is Commodore Chen. Callsign Trigger-happy. All fighters form up on me. Keep in your squadrons if you can, if not, your wing man is whoever you end up with. This may be a false alarm. But if not, we need to be ready. Form up now.” As squadron leaders and pilots acknowledged his command, Chen was distracted as a priority request came through to his Spitfire. Tapping a button, he saw it was from Drake. “This is Commodore Chen,” he said as he switched COM channels.

  “Commodore,” Admiral Somerville’s familiar voice said. “What is going on?”

  “It’s the solar flare Admiral, our fleet automatically changes course to protect our sensors. If the Karacknids are going to attack, this is a prime opportunity,” Chen said quickly, knowing that Somerville would get it immediately.

  “Of course!” Somerville replied. There was a pause for several seconds. “Do what you can with the fighters you’ve got Commodore. I’ll make sure the rest get launched immediately. I’ve got a fleet to see to. Good luck.”

  Before Chen could reply, Somerville ended the COM channel. Glancing down at his sensors, Chen saw that he had forty-six Spitfires and Corsairs in formation around him. His fighter gave him a warning as the solar flare washed over his Spitfire. For several seconds, his sensors were blind as they rebooted and recalibrated themselves. As soon as they regained full functionality, Chen saw what he had feared. Two hundred contacts were racing straight towards him. Their speed meant they could only be one thing. Enemy fighters. With a flick of his thumb he switched COM channels back to his pilots. “Okay ladies and gentlemen, it looks like the Karacknids have come out to play. We’re going to take them head on. We need to disrupt their formation and breakup their attack. We will not be able to stop them all, but the more we can make them stagger their attack on the fleet, the more chance our warships’ point defense gunners will have. This is not going to be pretty, but it needs to be done. Every fighter to maximum acceleration, we will hit them as far away from the fleet as we can.” As soon as he finished, Chen gunned his Spitfire’s engine. Glancing to his left and right, he saw that one fighter had slotted in almost touching his right wing tip. “Beacon Three, it’s good to have you along for the ride,” he said as he switched COM channels again.

  “Glad to be here Commodore, I didn’t think I’d be flying escort to you. It’s a privilege. Reading about your medal of honor was the reason I tried out for the flight combat academy,” Beacon Three replied.

  Chen smashed his teeth together. That was not what he needed to hear. Not when the odds of either of them surviving were so slim. He kept such thoughts from his voice. “I’m even happier to have you with me. Let’s stick together and show these Karacknids what we can do.”

  “Yes Commodore,” Beacon Three responded enthusiastically.

  Nodding at the pilot’s sentiment, Chen returned his focus to the Karacknid fighters. They were just two minutes away from his force. His fingers danced over one of his control terminals as he programed his Spitfire’s computer to assign targets to each of his fighters. Then he checked his target and tilted his nose slightly away from it. He didn’t want to give the Karacknid fighter any warning. “Evasive maneuvers,” he ordered as he switched COM channels to his pilots again. As he glanced out of his canopy, he saw all the fighters begin to twist and turn. “Open fire now, let’s make them have to maneuver as well.” At such a range pla
sma bolts from his Spitfires would not be able to damage the Karacknid fighters, but they didn’t necessarily know that. The more Chen forced the Karacknids to carry out evasive maneuvers, the more broken up their formation would be by the time it reached the fleet.

  Plasma bolts zipped out across the distance to the Karacknids. For thirty seconds the ineffective fire continued. Chen smiled when the Karacknids tried to dodge the understrength bolts that whisked past them. From the midst of his formation, missiles suddenly whooshed away from some of his fighters. For a millisecond Chen was caught off-guard. He hadn’t flown with Corsairs before. He had forgotten about the interceptors’ anti-fighter missiles. With their impressive speed, they closed the distance to the Karacknids in seconds. Charging straight into the face of the missiles, the Karacknids had almost no time to dodge. Six fighters were blown apart. Then the Karacknids opened up with their mass particle cannons. Alarms blared from Chen’s Spitfire as sensors detected particle beams passing close to his fighter. Ignoring them, Chen focused on his target. He twisted and turned one final time before settling the nose of his fighter onto a direct line with his target. Squeezing his trigger, he released two hundred plasma bolts in the space of three seconds. A roar of delight escaped his lips as the Karacknid fighter blew apart. With his vision so focused on his target, he was only dimly aware of other explosions occurring around him and amongst the Karacknids. Then, in almost the blink of an eye, his fighters passed through the Karacknids. Chen used his maneuvering thrusters to whip his fighter around. Depressing the trigger again, he fired a hail of bolts at the back of a Karacknid fighter. He roared again when it too was destroyed. Before he could seek out another target, the momentum of his fighter and the Karacknids’ craft brought them out of weapons range. “Drake, this is Chen, we’ve done what we can. They’re all yours,” he called to the fleet’s flagship.

  “Acknowledged Commodore, you have softened them up for us,” a voice Chen didn’t recognize replied.

  “Form up on me,” Chen said to his fighters as he switched back to their COM channel. He checked sensors to see how many were left. Just twenty had survived the engagement. Chen grimaced when he saw that Beacon-Three wasn’t one of them. Only then did it hit him how lucky he had been. He had been so focused on taking out his targets that he had forgotten about the danger to himself. His mind went to his wife. She hadn’t been at all pleased when he had been assigned to lead the fighter element of Operation Counterstrike. The one consolation he had given her had been that he wouldn’t be flying combat missions. She would be furious when she found out what he had done. But I’m alive, he said to himself as he thought about how he would tell her. And if I hadn’t done it, the Karacknids might have destroyed Prometheus… They still could, he reminded himself as he forced away thoughts of his wife. There were still one hundred and fifty-six Karacknid fighters charging the fleet. Glancing at the sensors, Chen saw that they were just twenty seconds away from the outer range of the fleets’ point defenses. Clearing his mind, he tried to picture what the Karacknid commander would do after his attack. He’d want to get back to the safety of the third planet’s battlestations as soon as possible. That meant his fleet would bank up and to the left after their attack run. “Follow me,” he ordered what was left of his pilots as he pointed his Spitfire’s nose in the direction the Karacknids would fly in.

  As his ship carried out the maneuver, he kept his attention on the Karacknid attack. Seconds before they could open up with their particle beams, sixty Spitfires and Corsairs crashed into them as the second wave of fighters attacked. Making things even more difficult for them, the leading Karacknid fighters found themselves being targeted by every point defense weapon in the fleet. Explosions erupted all around the Karacknids as their fighters were taken out. Then the Karacknids got close enough to open fire. As particle beams ripped into warships, blasting away their armor, much larger explosions were detected by Chen’s Spitfire. He counted five massive ones that had to be caused by ships detonating. More energy spikes suggested others had taken damage. As soon as the Karacknids passed the fleet, they carried out the same maneuver Chen had. Spinning their fighters, they fired another round of particle beams. More ships were blown apart. Chen found he was gripping his flight stick hard enough to turn his knuckles white. When the Karacknid fighters regrouped and turned back towards the planet on exactly the course he had predicted, his eyes narrowed. He had failed to stop the attack on the fleet, but he was going to get revenge. “They will be slow as they reverse course back to the planet. We’ll slice right through them. Make every plasma bolt count,” he ordered his pilots.

  It took twenty minutes for his fighters to reverse their momentum from their initial attack run and close with the Karacknids. With their engines at maximum, the Karacknids easily saw them coming. For a few moments Chen was surprised the Karacknid commander hadn’t dispatched some of his fighters to engage Chen’s fighters. If the Karacknid commander forced Chen into a dogfight, the majority of the Karacknid fighters could escape untouched. Only when Chen spotted more than a hundred fighters racing after the Karacknids from the direction of the Allied Fleet did he understand. If the Karacknid commander stopped at all, his force would be caught by a lot more than the twenty fighters Chen had. His fighters charged into the Karacknids in a textbook slash attack. One of the first things taught at the fighter pilot academy was that speed won battles. With four times the velocity the Karacknids had, his fighters pierced their formation, blowing up targets with ease. The Karacknids had a much harder time locking onto and hitting his faster craft. Forgetting about his own safety, Chen released a hail of plasma at one target. Without even waiting to see if it was destroyed, he switched onto a second. Then he was through the Karacknid fleet. He spun his fighter and blasted a third enemy craft. With his adrenaline still pumping, he sought out a fourth, but none presented itself. The battle was over. Glancing at his sensors, he saw he had lost another six from his small force. The Karacknid fighters had suffered far worse. Out of the original two hundred that had launched their surprise attack, just over eighty were returning to their hangers. You won’t be trying that again any time soon, Chen thought as he wondered if the Karacknid fleet commander had survived the battle.

  A beep from his COM unit made him glance down at it. Drake was hailing him again. “Go-ahead Drake,” he said as he activated the channel.

  “Commander Chen, Admiral Somerville wishes to speak to you. One moment please,” the COM officer informed him.

  “Chen,” Somerville said moments later. “You have beaten the odds once again. The fleet owes you big time.”

  “How is the fleet Admiral? What are our losses?” Chen asked as guilt replaced his adrenaline. He should have seen the Karacknid’s attack coming sooner. Far sooner.

  “We took some serious hits and lost some ships, but it would have been far worse without your actions Commodore,” Somerville replied. “I get the feeling another Medal of Honor is in your future. I thought I told you at the start of this mission that you’re too valuable to be flying fighters anymore.”

  “I… I guess I forgot in the heat of the moment Admiral,” Chen replied.

  Somerville smiled. “Don’t worry about it, Commodore. I think I’ll make an exception this time. Now get your fighter home. I don’t want to lose you because you ran out of fuel or suffered some other mishap. You and your pilots did good today Commodore. You all have my thanks.”

  “Thank you Admiral,” Chen replied just before the COM channel ended. As his fighter approached the fleet, he saw a number of ships had large scars and deep gashes along their hulls, clearly the work of particle beams. Shuttles and crew in space suits were swarming around the damaged sections carrying out repairs. This siege is not broken yet, Chen was sure. He had no doubt Somerville was already coming up with ways to get back at the Karacknids.

  Chapter 21

  The Karacknids had a number of competent commanders. Tanaka-lang stood above them all. Any military history of the War of Doom
must devote at least a chapter to his accomplishments, both prior to the war and during it. To do any less would be to rob my students of a valuable learning opportunity for there is much to be gained by studying our enemy.

  -Excerpt from Empire Rising, 3002 AD.

  IS Vengeance, Jaranna system, 2nd March 2484 AD (same time).

  “Launch a spread of recon drones,” Lightfoot ordered as soon has his fleet jumped out of shift space. “Take us in, one quarter impulse.” His scouts had detected just one hundred Karacknid warships in orbit around Jaranna. If that was all the strength the Karacknids had in the system, he would be able to ravage the orbital stations the Karacknids were building but he wanted to be sure.

  As his fleet moved in, he watched the feed from the drones carefully. Half were stealth drones while the other half were filling the system with energy from their active sensors. If the Karacknids did have any ships hiding with their reactors powered down, they’d have to carry out at least minor maneuvers to avoid his active sensor drones. The idea was to encourage them to head in the direction he had stealth drones operating.

  “They’ve sure done a lot of work to the system since we were here last,” Jake Hamilton, Vengeance’s Flag Captain commented. “They’ve nearly rebuilt everything we destroyed.”

 

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