Randall smiled at Sela. “Then it should be just about even.”
“We’ll kick their butts!”
Addison almost knocked Sela over as she jumped to her feet. “We’re out!”
“Go to your ship commander and prepare for battle. We are not quite back to full strength, but we will do all we can. The Emim have increased their speed and more ships may join them before the battle is over. I have called in our most powerful battleship, but I do not know if they will arrive in time.”
Randall knew Kontana would be looking for something of significance from him as they parted ways, and with that in mind he reached the length of Kontana’s right forearm, grasped it at the elbow firmly, then placed his left hand on his shoulder. It was a parting handshake only given by Cherokee to a trusted friend.
“Good luck to the Ant Men.”
With Randall looking him right in the eyes, Kontana smiled and nodded. “Die well, my friend.”
Randall laughed as he replied. “I intend to, but not today.”
A few minutes later Kontana’s ship had slowed enough to allow 107 to emerge. A few seconds more and Addison had them on course for the heart of the Emim armada.
“General Quarters! W.O. all weapons to hot. COM, distance to the Line and fleet status report.”
“Aye, sir! Fleet condition is set to CRP One, but for some reason the link to HQ is weaker than normal. All ships at GQ. Distance 40,000 miles and closing. Time to intercept, fourteen minutes.”
“Squawk our number, then let’s see what we’re dealing with. Display tactical on main viewer.”
Sela already had a preview on her attack radar, and as the images began to form on the viewer, she turned to watch Randall’s reaction.
Randall stared at the screen for a few seconds then looked disgusted. “Lovely! COM, show Grey ships as green, Emim red, Nephilim blue and DSSF white.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Numbers?”
“Five groups of Grey saucers, five each. Seven groups of Emim, ten ships each including seven frigates, three Dreadnoughts and an assortment of drones. Three groups of Nephilim ten ships each including three mother ships. The largest ship at the rear is Anakim’s flagship.
“DSSF ships flying standard arrowhead formation with Pandora. Emmett is the tip of the spear. On his right, Charlie then Ono. On his left, Jack then Henry. Currently, Knowles has the Carl Jackson ten miles above them, but on a course that takes them around the Emim armada and seemingly to the middle of nowhere.”
Randall smiled. “I know where he’s going.”
“Where’s Electra?”
“Electra, holding geosynchronous; trailing the Yard by 100 miles.”
“Ok, back to the situation at hand. They’ll have at least a 14 to 1 advantage depending on how many attack craft those mother ships are carrying.”
Sela looked alarmed as she turned again to Randall. “Sir, mathematically…”
“I know, insufficient payload for the number of targets, even if every launch is a kill shot.”
“Yes, sir.”
Randall forced a smile. “Then we’ll have to be at our very best. Otherwise we may have to Eradicate them.”
“Those things even scare me.”
“COM, check for notable status updates over the last 72 hours.”
“Aye, sir, scanning DSSF headlines… and the first thing I see is a report about an explosion at HQ that took out Tactical, many casualties but only one death. The general was injured. All Tactical communications and SRN are now originating from Captain Starr’s ship on the flight line. That would explain the change in the comlink. Here’s some good news: Pinnick’s task force is celebrating the elimination of the Emim threat in Russia. With DSSF help the Russians have regained control of their own airspace.
“There’s also a lengthy report on Captain Starr’s return, but the gist is she’s back at DSSF and recovering from some form of trauma.”
“Penelope, see if you can contact her on 100.”
“Aye, sir, it will take about a minute. From here it’s approximately twenty-seven seconds each way.”
“Understood.”
A short while later Penelope had a response. “Olympus to 107, standby for Captain Starr.” Stevens motioned to the imposter and Tyl sat down at the COM station of Starr’s ship.
“It’s 107 calling for you, ma’am.”
“Why?”
“It’s Commander Randall.” Stevens pointed to a blinking dot on the view screen. “He’s right there.”
Tyl glanced at the screen but she wasn’t quite sure what to say. “This is Captain Starr, report.”
Half a minute later she heard Randall’s response. “Well, I love you too! I’ve been worried sick. How are you? The report we read only says you had some kind of trauma.”
“I am fine; just a small bump on the head. I am helping Corporal Stevens with Tactical.”
“So, you must be improving. I’m sure he can use your help. I wish you were here; we could use your help, too. Listen, go to your quarters and switch to comline three.”
“Understood.”
“She’s back, sir; line three.”
“This is Starr, continue.”
Randall wasn’t sure what he was hearing. She sounded a little strange to him, agitated perhaps. “I just wanted to say I love you and miss you, but I’m glad you’re back home and ok. We went with Kontana to find you but that’s too much to share for now. I was afraid we wouldn’t find you before the Emim did. Kontana said you would be better off dead if captured, but as always you managed to come through. I have something special planned when we get back. Maybe it’s time we give Muggy that grandchild she’s been wanting. Anyway, how are you feeling, really?”
Randall’s concern and love for Starr and his tone caused Tyl to have strange feelings. In all of her life she had never before known guilt. “I told you, I am fine. If there is nothing more to report I am very busy.”
“Of course, I understand. I just wanted to talk to you before we go into battle and tell you, I love you.”
Tyl hesitated for an instant then quietly answered in a reluctant tone. “I love you.” She was not used to hearing that phrase spoken to her, and even though she only heard it as an imposter, she was deeply touched.
After a few seconds Randall turned to Penelope. “End transmission.” They had all heard the strange conversation and wanted to somehow make sense of it all. More than anything Addison wanted to say something to make Randall feel better.
“Maybe that bump on the head was harder than she thinks. She’s not herself, sir.”
“I’m sure that’s it, Lieutenant. Let’s focus on the task at hand for now.”
Addison watched the viewer as they approached the fleet. ” Slowing to match fleet speed.”
“Negative pilot, they have their battle plan set. We won’t interfere, but let’s see if we can pull some of those ships away from the main group. It looks like DeArman and Collins are going right down their throats, most likely to split the alien forces. Pilot, increase speed to 100k mph, lock onto Anakim’s ship and bring us in on a high arc. If I’m correct he’ll pull some of his forces back to protect his own backside.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Get me a line to Knowles.”
“Go ahead, Commander.”
“107 to Carl Jackson.”
“Knowles here.”
“Mike, are you lost or just out for a joy ride?”
“Things were looking a bit congested over your way, so I decided to take the scenic route, but you wouldn’t want to follow us. If I were you I wouldn’t fly behind or get within 60 miles of us for that matter. If you’d like to chart our voyage just have your COM tune to 375.58 in the upper E band and listen for the ping.”
“I understand, and we wouldn’t dream of encroaching on your privacy. 107 out.”
Addison’s face displayed what they were all thinking. “Well? What are they doing? Why aren’t they going to fight?”
“Let’s just say they’re closing the door to prevent uninvited guests.”
Sela began to grin. “Mines?”
“Very good, Lieutenant. There’s a specific area where the Emim emerge when using a wormhole. They’re going to mine as much of it as they can.”
“But won’t the Emim see the mines?”
“They’ve already begun. Can you see the mines?”
Penelope watched her scope then replied, “No.”
“And the Emim can’t either. Use the freq Knowles provided and see if you can tune in on them.”
Ping… ping… “Yes, I have dozens of targets trailing behind and beside Carl Jackson.”
“Leave the frequency open to make sure when things get heated we don’t hit one ourselves.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Get Heavy D for me, quickly!”
“Ferryman to Heavy D.”
“Go ahead, Commander.”
“Emmett, I assume you’ll be concentrating on the Emim ships. Considering the odds, you might want to use gats for the Greys and save missiles for larger game.”
“Affirmative, that’s the plan.”
“And that’s why you’re Strike Leader. Light ‘em up!”
“Good luck, sir!”
“Commander, SF-1 and Pandora are about to engage the Emim.”
“Acknowledged. Hoist the colors and begin arc to Anakim’s ship. Standby on missiles.”
“We’re not going to black?”
“No, I want them to see us coming. If Anakim is focused on us he’ll be defensive and leave the Emim to fight for themselves. But Sela, only launch a pair on Anakim’s engines then target the nearest Emim vessel.”
Laser bolts quickly filled the space between the opposing factions as Sela scanned the area around Anakim’s ship. “Addison, there’s an Emim ship just beyond Anakim. Take us over his ship. As we pass I’ll launch aft missiles then line up on the frigate.”
“You’ve got it!”
White flashes shot past 107 as Addison rolled into position with only three or four of the energy bolts striking the lower hull. Muffled thuds echoed throughout the ship as the lights blinked but power remained constant.
Sela smiled when she heard Starr’s voice over the comline. “Warning, reactor safety protocol is inactive.”
Hearing Verna’s voice caused Randall to smile. “W.O., how did you manage that?”
“Mr. Stabroth.”
“Target locked, launching aft missiles now!” Tap, tap.
As the second missile left the tube, Addison was already lined up for a head on run against the Emim ship and again there was a loud flat tone. Sela was now in phase with the ship with a glazed look and eyes wide open.
“Bring me another target!”
But as Addison banked toward the next ship, a bolt fired much closer than before struck the starboard engine, cutting the power coupling in half.
“Starboard engine off line but stable and your plan seems to be working, sir. Anakim’s ship has slowed. I register two explosions and we now have eight bogies on our six!”
“Sela, concentrate aft. Pilot, max thrust!”
Addison was doing her best to evade the Nephilim on her tail as Sela tried to pick them off one by one, but 107 was now angling back toward the center of the battle.
“Pilot, hard to starboard. Take us out of here! Sela, transfer gat control to my console.”
“Done!”
Randall watched the aft view screen for smaller drones or Grey saucers and began to fire but there were so many of them he could only make a small dent in their number. Saucers wobbled out of control while drones collided with other ships near them.
“COM, where’s Kontana?”
“The Rigelians have cut through the front line of the Nephilim and are engaged with the three largest Emim ships.”
“Status?”
“So far Kontana has destroyed at least six Nephilim ships, two frigates and a Dreadnaught but they’re taking a pounding in the process. Something is streaming from behind Kontana’s ship and I think they’re withdrawing.”
“Probably plasma; how’s SF-1 doing?”
“They’re being effective, but all have taken multiple hits. So far, they have avoided direct hits by the larger Emim vessels, but the drones are having some success. All our fighters are losing power to some degree as they take hits from Emim lasers.
“Pandora has launched more than thirty of her missiles into the forward three clusters and they are maintaining formation as they plow through the heart of the armada. All ships are experiencing secondary impacts as enemy ships explode or break up near them. SF-1 will emerge from the pack in less than thirty seconds but the aliens are already turning back on them.
“Henry and Ono seem to be catching the worst of the secondary debris while Pandora has lost two engines from direct hits.”
“Why aren’t we losing power?”
“That’s easy. We’re fighting Nephilim; they’re fighting Emim.”
“Sir! We’re now outside of the main conflict but still have three Nephilim on our six!”
“Ferryman, this is Carl Jackson. Our mission is complete, and we are moving in on your port side. Break across our bow and we’ll get them off of you.”
“Pilot!”
“Executing!”
Seconds later a trio of cerulean blue beams struck the Nephilim fighters trailing 107. Instantly all three became space dust.
Onboard 107 they heard Knowles laugh and say, “Meet Predator Class, you bug eyed bean poles!”
As she watched the main viewer Sela’s face lit up. “Nice! Now let’s kick some Emim butt!”
Turning back on the battle they could see SF-1 going into a Star Burst pattern. Charlie and Ono broke right, Jack and Henry broke left, as Emmett pulled back into a loop that would bring 101 right back in behind Pandora as she broke through and continued at full power straight for the Nephilim Directorate.
Back in the battle again, Heavy D, 107 and Carl Jackson found a target rich environment. All three were swarmed by an assortment of alien vessels, but went to work with all they had. Missiles launched at a furious rate, some point blank but all managed to find their targets.
Addison did her best to dodge the rapidly expanding garbage field but couldn’t evade it all. A concentration of the smaller fragments was so thick they made a strafing sound as they bounced off the hull. A few managed to penetrate the engine compartments creating fist size holes in the skin.
“Sir, I have to disengage. The debris is too thick! We’re venting atmosphere all over the ship and power is down to thirty five percent.”
“Do it! Best speed away from the battle.” Addison complied so quickly 107 groaned as though the ship were in labor, shaking violently as the crew found themselves slammed deep into their seats. A few moments later as they leveled off, the others could hear Penelope heaving into her barf bag.
Now able to speak, Sela glanced her way. “Hang in there, Patience; we’ll get through this yet!”
“Sela, get below, see what you can do to restore the starboard engine. COM, as soon as you can, give me a status report on all ships. Display same sequence as before.”
“I’m ok, sir. Aft monitor on screen now. Captain Knowles has called for the fleet to regroup and as you can see, SF-1 is responding as best they can. Feeding rendezvous coordinates to pilot, now. Telemetry from the other ships is sketchy but here’s what I have so far.
“All fighters report substantial power loss with minor to severe hull damage, but remain battle ready. Our biggest problem is that missiles are in short supply, no more than three remaining per ship, some have less. All ships report one or more dead.
“The aliens seem to be regrouping as well. Their losses are substantial: Nephilim, seventy two percent, Emim twenty percent, Greys eliminated completely. As best I can tell, most if not all of them have been damaged to some degree.”
“Kontana?”
“I can’t scan the Rigelian ship, sir, but they are n
o longer venting whatever that was, and are moving to join up with us.”
Sela reappeared on the bridge with a smile on her face. “Power to starboard engine restored. The main coupling was fried so I have it wired directly into thrust control. Don’t push it past eighty percent and it should be fine.”
“Good job, Lieutenant. So, we’re still facing roughly 44 ships with approximately two dozen missiles and Kontana’s ability is unknown. That’s just peachy.”
Sela grinned at Randall. “Well, we also have three Eradicators.”
“Sir, Captain Knowles is about to speak to the fleet.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Knowles to SF-1. By now you should all be aware of our tactical position. Without question the odds are against us but they have been since Freedom 7 lifted off the pad. Every flight since that day has been about maintaining our freedom from an alien oppressor, and now, like so many Americans have since 1776, it’s our time to step up and lay our lives on the line to stop the greatest oppressor we have ever known.
“Back at home, a single battleship and seven rookie fighter crews will be all that stands between those who evade us and the end of mankind. The Emim must be stopped here, today, regardless of the cost, and we will take as many of them with us as possible! As soon as the formation is complete we will end this threat one way or another. And remember, you are flying your last missile. Good luck and good hunting!”
Back on Starr’s fighter at DSSF, Stevens and Tyl had been listening to Knowles’ speech to the fleet, and when he finished she looked at the corporal with great concern.
“It almost sounds like Captain Knowles is expecting them all to die.”
“Yes, ma’am, that’s pretty much what he was saying, but you of all people know mathematically, they can’t win. Oh, they’ll do all they can, but without a miracle, their fate is sealed. Our survival will depend on how many Emim survive and how well SF-2 responds when they arrive in orbit.”
Rocket Babe_Reflection Page 21