Intersect

by M C I Hinchliffe

  One of the controllers pressed her headset to her ear as a report came in from the front line attack force. She looked up to her commanding officer and relayed the information. "General, Blue Leader is reporting in and wished to speak with you."

  "Put him on screen." Charlie commanded.

  Over the main image of the space scape, appeared a helmeted face that was concealed under a dark visor. "General Clark, we are doubling back to the asteroid belt. There are too many of them for us to fight out in the open, though we might stand a chance amongst the asteroids."

  "It's worth a try." Charlie stated. He then turned to the officers below. "Notify the Spaceforce to remain in the asteroid belt. Sectors eight nine to four three one to be patrolled and squadrons two two five to two nine five to intersect all bomber raids on the Endeavour."

  "General Clark. Where is the Admiral?" Adam inquired cautiously.

  Charlie wasn't exactly sure where he was but he had a good idea of where he was headed and he prayed that Katie could stop him. "He is busy fighting another battle, so it's up to us to stop the Warrian Fleet."

  "There goes the neighbourhood! Blue Leader, out." Adam's image disappeared from above and returned the Mission Control room to its previous murmur.

  The conversation of one of the controllers caught Charlie's attention.

  "Launch window is clear, Starfighter One. Good luck Admiral." She said into her small headset.

  "Officer Whitely. Who did you say that was clear to launch?"

  "Admiral Williams, Sir. He is in Starfighter One. Do you want me to recall him General?"

  Charlie didn't reply for Katie's entrance had redirected his thoughts. As she went to his side, she witnessed the concerned expression upon his face and realised that he already knew of Ryan's departure. "I'm sorry. He was very determined."

  "Well it's out of our hands now. Let’s pray he made the right decision." He turned back to the awaiting officer below. "No, let him continue."

  ********************

  Adam signed off from the co-ordination centre of the Spaceforce and relayed the information to his squadron. "Mission Control has directed us to patrol sector one three niner. Stick with your wing man at all times and anything that enters the sector that isn't omitting the correct frequency, atomise it."

  Blue Squadron separated out to cover the sector while Adam and his wingman circled a large asteroid. His wingman was Lieutenant Mark Stephens; a dark skinned, high spirited maverick whose marksmanship was as acute as the sight of an eagle. His fellow aviators were quick to brandishing him with the call sign - Stinger. Stinger's job of wingman was to tail Adam through every manoeuvre and provide cover from the rear while Adam made a kill. If Adam were to overshoot hit target, then it was his turn to hunt down the opponent while Adam tailed his rear. Stinger became curious about his Colonel's interest in the eighty kilometre wide rock they circled. "Colonel, what is it with you and this asteroid?"

  "I have an idea and I'm looking of a suitable spot to execute it." Adam carefully examined the surface, then found what he was looking for. "There."

  "There what sir, what's the plan?"

  "Did you see that fissure through the asteroid?"

  "Yeah?"

  "It goes clear through it, like a tunnel. I want you to station yourself outside the exit we just past. We are going to play a game of cat and mouse. I'll be the bait to lure them in while you will be the trap at the end."

  "Sounds like fun."

  "I'll be back with some of the non-native wildlife." Adam banked away towards the approaching Warrian Fleet while his comrade cautiously moved into position.

  Adam didn't have to go far to find his prey. The Warrian Spaceforce thundered into the asteroid belt at a vast rate of knots, like a swarm of bats into their cave at dawn. The black blurs flew past his Starfighter as he attacked them head on and his bold manoeuvre was opposed by a shower of photon beams. He weaved through the deadly fray with pin point precision and retaliated with his own beams of searing death. One Warbird shattered into flames throwing his wingman into the path of an asteroid and in reaction, several of their colleges changed course to hunt down their comrade's assassin. Adam banked violently to the left and traversed the path of two Warbirds and an asteroid. He pushed his fighter's manoeuvrability to its limit to dodge the multiple photon beams that threatened his Starfighter. The sound of the fuselage bowing under the strain told him to push the ship no further, as danger of a wing being torn off became an impending reality. He swooped down on the chosen asteroid and plummeted into the large fissure that inflicted it, while the single file of Warbirds hounded his tail in an unrelenting pursuit.

  The rough rock faces closed in on his ship like a giant vice and stopped short leaving little room to manoeuvre. His special gift for flight was utilised to its entirety in an endeavour to sustain his life while ducking and diving through the narrow winding passage. The fissure narrowed abruptly to a width just short of the height of his own ship and beyond, it widened to its previous aperture. Adam knew immediately that the gap was too small but he was approaching too rapidly to stop in time. He Accelerated the Starfighter into the jaws of the asteroid and his sleek ship shuddered as rock and the tough carbon alloy met in a violent encounter. The Starfighter's fuselage being constructed of such a stalwart ore, ripped a gap through the weaker rock until the ship had passed completely through the tight span. Behind was the rewarding sound of two exploding Warbirds as their inaccurate manoeuvring caused them to impact with the rocky jaws.

  With a glance at his tail monitor, he witnessed the continuing pursuit of four black hunters from the tight gap that he had left. Again the fray of their guns strobe lit the narrow fissure in an attempt to destroy their quarry. Shards of rock shattered about the Starfighter and showered the fuselage with small projectiles that clunked upon impact. His concentration was not focused upon the attack of his pursuers, but on the traversing of the fissure. The Warrians rarely had a clear shot and if they were fortunate enough to clip their target, his shields were capable of deflecting the blast of lethal energy. The real adversary was the treacherous fissure through which he travelled. With every turn, he feared that his judgement was incorrect and this fissure was not the same as the other that exited from the far side. At any turn, he could crash into a dead end or be trapped and become easy prey for the hounds upon his tail.

  His daring journey through the vast mass of rock came to an abrupt end as he shot out of the fissure exit and into the greater world of the asteroid belt. He spiralled away to avoid missile lock as the beams of energy became deadly accurate. The Starfighter quaked as the deflector shields diverted a blast that threatened his starboard wing. He broke hard left then right to shake his pursuers as a thought rang loudly in his mind. "Where is Stinger?"

  Two Warbirds erupted into flames signalling the commencement of Stinger's fatal assault. His proton missiles easily penetrated their shields and shattered the hulls over the space scape. The remaining Warbirds were defiant in there attack upon Adam and continued their deadly fire. The lead Warbird desperately fired his guns at his elusive target while his wingman became a buffer between Stinger and his comrade. Stinger had a full complement of missiles and had no hesitation in using them. He launched the two energy seeking projectiles, one immediately following the other. The first diffused it's target's shields while the later made the precious kill. Another Warbird met a violent end. The final Warbird immediately broke off the pursuit to lengthen his potentially short existence. Now with two Starfighters upon his tail, his only hope of survival was to reconnect with the rest of his squadron, but time was against him and Stinger's missiles dealt the fatal blow. The ship splintered about its pilot sending shards of searing alloy through his body tearing it into hundreds of segments that were finally incinerated in a powerful eruption of energy and fuel.

  Adam hailed his colleague. "What took you so long?"

  "Come on Colonel, there was only four of them. I didn't want to spoil your fun."


  "Next time Stinger, feel free to spoil me." Adam reasoned. "Get back into position and I'll see if I can lure some more in."

  "Yes Colonel." Stinger broke formation as he dashed back to his station next to the asteroid while Adam set out for another game of "cat and mouse".

  ********************

  Two rays of deadly energy dashed across the nose of the Starfighter, shaking the craft as the shields deflected them. Six Warrian Warbird fighters stalked the Starfighter with an intense determination to end its existence and their deaths would be the only cataclysm that would save it. The sole remnant of Squadron three eight six was Lieutenant John Masters who weaved his ship through the maze of asteroids with all the skill his brain could muster. His missile bay was empty, his photon gun energy level was reading low and he was quickly running out of ideas. With his left index finger, he activated the tail mine system and the relevant data came up on the central display. He had one mine left and he would have to make it count. While his eyes darted between the forward terrain and the rear monitor, his right thumb moved over the fire button. As he negotiated a narrow pass between two asteroids, he picked his moment and released the mine. A small black ball was ejected from the tail of his fighter straight into the flight path of the leading Warbird. A burst of fire inflicted the nose of the Warbird with intense heat, but was unable to penetrate its deflector shield to destroy the quarry. Instead, the shield’s repulsion of the blast pushed the black fighter into the path of an asteroid causing it to impact and ignite into flames.

  Masters was a proud and forthright individual who revelled in the fact that he never surrendered to any situation. The opposition would sooner or later fold under his persistent drive or something else would give to end the stalemate. This time he had met his match and the continual, heart stopping pressure of their relentless attack was quickly wearing him down. Finally he yielded altogether as the threat of death drove his stubbornness over the edge. "Lieutenant Masters to Endeavour. I'm in sector five niner. I've got five Warbirds on my tail and can't shake 'em. Request assistance immediately."

  The voice of Officer Whitely sounded in his helmet. "Make way to sector one three niner Lieutenant. I'll inform blue squadron of your position."

  "Negative. I'll never make it to one three niner, I need assistance now!"

  "Squadrons three twelve to three fifty are all gone. You’re the only one to survive this long. Blue Squadron is your only hope."

  "You've been a big help Endeavour." He said in a sarcastic tone. "Masters out." In his frustration he deactivated the com-link. With no aid in sight and his death imminent, he looped back and faced them head on. He concluded that if he was going to die, he could at least go out in a blaze of glory and take as many of those green bastards with him.

  Six unidentified proton missiles streaked across the space scape before him and impacted with the tailing three Warbirds, sending them to a fiery hell. A mysterious spacecraft, slightly larger than his own ship, darted into the scene and hunted the two fleeing Warbirds. John threw his ship in pursuit of this unknown ally in a hope to reveal its identity and provide aid in destroying the last of the Warbirds. As he approached its tail he noticed the resemblance to his own ship, but with a number of differences. The one thing he did recognise was the familiar symbol of Intersect upon its wing - The two intersecting arrows. He reactivated the com-link and hailed the leading fighter on the coded frequency. "Thanks buddy, you saved my life. Tell me, who's quarters do I send the case of champagne too?" Only silence met his message. He continued his pursuit while scheming up another plan to reveal the identity of his comrade.

  Soon John was struggling to match the smooth, tight manoeuvres of this anonymous pilot and the groans from the fuselage told him to lighten up on the controls. A gap formed between them that grew larger and larger with every turn and John could only gasp in amazement at the total perfection of this pilot. "Man, this guy is good!" The Warbird that was being tailed was also struggling to lose this flying paradox. Every bank that the Warrian made was precisely imitated by his pursuer and in many instances, more perfectly executed. The four fighters rocketed under a massive asteroid and its surface appeared as no more than a grey blur as they circumnavigated it. During such a manoeuvre, the pursuing aggressors would be unable to get their target in their sights due to the curvature of the surface and not until the target changed course. The mysterious pilot inverted his fighter during the manoeuvre so he was performing a negative gee turn. John knew this was an impossible tactic while maintaining the current speed and angle they had through circling the asteroid. No ship could accomplish such an incredible feat of acrobatics and not have the fuselage rip apart, but this craft had just performed it with its usual perfection. Deadly beams of energy shot from the unidentified ship and struck the Warbird with lethal accuracy, then continued the precise assault until the Warbird's shields failed, leaving it bare of any protection. The fighter's guns sang again their song of death and Warbird erupted into a ball of fire. John gasped again at the astonishing performance before him. Not even the accomplished Colonel Moore could match such an incredible master of the sky. Who was this pilot and what was this extraordinary ship he flew?

  The remaining Warbird pulled away to the right and the unknown fighter and his inquisitor followed. The Warrian pilot spun, twist, then banked from side to side as hard as his fighter could perform to release the insatiable aggressor from his tail, but nothing worked. He released a mine that dashed quickly to the unnamed pilot's ship and in that split second, the pursuer evaded the mine with a fleeting jitter of his wings. The mine passed overhead and harmlessly erupted several meters behind the wondrous fighter. Through the following hard right bank, the mysterious fighter's gun's fired once more at its prey and again the beams of death found their mark. With several short bursts, the Warrian Warbird fighter met its impending doom and exploded into a blazing ball of fire and alloy.

  John was startled by a vaguely familiar voice as it sounded within his helmet. "Starfighter One to Lieutenant Masters, room eight one five is my quarters. Hope you’ve got a good year at hand?"

  The words Starfighter One jogged his dulling memory. He had heard that the Admiral was test flying a new generation of fighter called the Starfighter One, but it couldn't be the Admiral at the helm. If he were that good he would have been the talk of Squadron Bar on level fifteen and declared the man for all to better. Apart from Colonel Moore, no other name was mentioned as the best pilot! "That's the Admiral's bird you’re in. How did you get hold of such a flash piece of Intersect property?"

  "Being the Admiral himself, has its advantages." The voice replied.

  John was extremely embarrassed. He now recognised voice to be that of Admiral Williams. "B-beg your pardon Sir, I had no idea it was you."

  "That's okay solider."

  "Admiral, I have to say that in all my time as a pilot, I've never seen such an incredible display flying."

  "Stop it Lieutenant, you'll embarrass me."

  "I mean it Sir, it was something else. None of us knew you were that good, or any good at all to be honest."

  "I never had the time to dogfight against you all, so I had Colonel Moore to do the training."

  "So you taught the Colonel."

  "Everything I knew."

  "After what I'd just seen, I don't think it was everything." John ran over the last few minutes in his mind and one or two things caught his curiosity. "Sir, why didn't you reply when I first asked for your identification?" John inquired.

  Ryan couldn't tell him the real reason for his silence. Because flying was so much of an instinct for him that dog-fighting five Warbird's as well as fighting Zardon's mental battle was although extremely taxing, but still within his mental limits. The addition of a conversation was a bit too much. So he opted for a reasonable white lie. "I like to have the com-link off while I'm in a dogfight. I find it distracting."

  "Hey Admiral, is that ship invisible to the Endeavours scanners? Because mission control said
that I'm the last one left in this sector."

  "No Lieutenant, Starfighter One isn't logged on the mission computer. So it disregarded me as a part of the Spaceforce and my position wouldn't be on Mission Control's tactical imager. Anyway, I'd love to fly around here and chat but I've got a rendezvous with the Warrian Fleet."

  "Good luck Sir. Whatever your mission is." John said in a proud tone.

  "Thanks. Now get your ass back to base before I have to save it again."

  "Yes Sir." Lieutenant Masters banked away to the right as Ryan turned towards the awaiting Warrian Fleet.

  Ryan met little opposition as he left the asteroid belt, since much of the battle had moved to where the Endeavour was moored. Those few who dared to clash with his vastly superior flying skills, met a quick and violent death.

  Meeting the Emperor on his own terms was not Ryan's idea of a good plan. If there was a choice he would take on the Emperor out here in space with a set of wings to aid his enterprise, but for Ryan there was no other answer or solution, he had to go. Mexican standoff between the two fleets was coming to an abrupt end as the greater Warrian Spaceforce was quickly whittling away his own Force of Starfighters. He knew very well that his men were the superior pilots but being out numbered three to one made their greater skill obsolete. It would be only a matter of time before the Warrians had free bombing runs on the defenceless Endeavour.