Hell Fighters from Earth

by William C. Seigler

  “Tyron, what did you do?” asked Smith.

  “I pulled that circuit breaker. The thing would not let me lead the target. Am I going to get my ass chewed over it?”

  “No, you do what you have to. The rest of you, pull the circuit breaker I pointed out to you. Lead the target, and see if it helps.”

  After this session ended, they got together. Everyone was tired and sweating. They removed their headsets and leaned against the equipment.

  “There seems to be a sweet spot between three to five kilometers where the weapons work well. Beyond that, they are just too easy to evade. Less than that, pull the breaker. Does that sound about right to everybody?” asked Smith.

  They all nodded. Smith stole a glance at Fitz, who said nothing.

  Willy raised a hand. “I’ve got a question.”

  “Okay.”

  “Why is the ship just sitting there waiting to get hit? If they would just maneuver a bit, we might last longer.” The others nodded.

  “I was wondering about that myself. Let me look into it. Hang on a sec.”

  He put his headset down and walked over to Fitz, who looked up.

  “The crew chief is getting everything we have up and running to record any action and transmit it to command. When he gets done with that, I’ll see if he can change the programming on the gunner’s sim.”

  “The men are tired. They’ve been at this for almost three hours.”

  “Well, it’s almost time to eat. Send them off to the galley.”

  “Okay guys go find some chow. Then get some rest. I’ll look for you in your bunks.”

  He waited until they left. He turned back to Fitz. “By the way, it’s good to see you again sir.”

  “You too, you’ve done well. What happened at the training camp is all over the fleet. They’re looking at recruiting more college professors.” They both laughed at that.

  “Don’t forget, I’m also a vet. I don’t know if ‘professing’ is enough by itself.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” responded Fitz.

  “By the way, why are you out here? Shouldn’t you be back on Earth recruiting?”

  “Well, I had been working out in space for so long, I really missed it. The chance to fly to other star systems was too seductive, so I asked to be reassigned.

  “Your idea about making the recruiting pitch on the Moon has become standard procedure. Enlistment is up a good twenty percent.”

  “Hey, that was just for me. The rest you did on your own.”

  “We are also beginning to get a better class of recruit.”

  “Must mean the economy is getting worse.”

  “Yes, that’s partly it. The government back there is squeezing the people harder for more tax money. They don’t seem to learn.”

  “Maybe I should be back there fighting.”

  “That’s probably one of the things they are worried about. They raided one of our recruiting stations a couple of months ago. It’s going to get harder to recruit.”

  “Too bad,” said Smith.

  “We got our hands full with this assignment right now.”

  “Yes, some questions have arisen.”

  “What questions?”

  “What about the armored fighting suit? We can’t use it in a vacuum yet.”

  “We had never seen them occupy a system without an inhabitable planet. This is something different.”

  “Different?” asked Smith.

  “No habitable planets. The activity seems to be concentrated around a small planet with two low gravity moons. Lots of star jumps into the system; something is going on.”

  Smith thought a moment. “Two things, first what are we going to wear?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If we have to go outside, we can’t very well do it in our BDUs.”

  “We hadn’t really thought about that. We were looking mostly to find out what happened to the ship, and if the enemy has it, destroy it.”

  “What if any of the crew is left alive? We can’t just nuke the place and leave.”

  “You have a point.”

  “Whose plan is this anyway?”

  “Unified Command sent it down. I had just got in and had no assignment. Someone asked, what was the minimum I needed to succeed?”

  “Define success,” insisted Denver.

  “Success is defined as denying the intra-star system drive to the enemy. We have to find out what happened to the ship before we can do anything.”

  “So we are really not planning on bringing their ship back or any of the crew.”

  “It would be nice, but how can you if the Reptilians have them?”

  Smith scratched his chin. “What can the alien do for us?”

  “This may sound nuts, but they can communicate with direct mind link under certain circumstances. They have technology which enhances this ability.”

  “Could he sense another of his kind once we enter the system, assuming one is alive?”

  “Possibly, I’ve not worked directly with them for a while. They usually are friendly enough but don’t expect to go out, have a few drinks, and shoot pool. They tend to be very heady and somewhat distant. They think a lot more than they talk. I actually have some training material to show everyone after they have eaten. They also tend to be a bit ... delicate.”

  “Delicate? What do you mean delicate?”

  “They can’t take much physical abuse or deprivation, too civilized for too many generations I guess.”

  “What about mental and emotional strength and stability?”

  “They are way ahead of us in headwork. However, from what I’ve been able to put together, in the fog of battle, they are not real useful.”

  “Great. We are sailing into, goodness only knows what, and our ally might fold up when we most need him.”

  “Hopefully, with us handling the battle, that will not be a problem.”

  “What can we scavenge from the Grey ship that’s transporting us?”

  “Not much that I know about. What are you driving at?”

  “I don’t know yet. Are there any pressure suits on our ship?”

  “I guess so, for emergency repairs and such. Let me check.”

  “Hello Commander,” said the crew chief as he looked up at his screen. “I’ve got every camera and data link I could put together set up to record and transmit whatever happens to us. I’m on my way down to the sim lab.”

  “We’ll be waiting. Some other questions have been raised.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Nice work chief,” said Fitz as he greeted the crew chief. “Corporal Smith has come up with some questions and is working with me on planning.”

  “Corporal,” he said offering his hand. “It isn’t often I get to meet a famous hero.”

  “Nice to meet you Chief, and I don’t know about all that hero stuff. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. I could have just as easily been in the pool.”

  “If you say so. Now, what do you have, in addition to modifying the sim in some way?”

  “Are there any pressure, I mean, spacesuits on board? asked Fitz.

  “Yeah, we keep two for emergencies and the like. They’re not what you expect.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Smith.

  “They’re big round bulbous things you can practically live in if you have to. Here look at this.” He swung the computer screen around and they got a look at the maintenance environment suit.

  “You guys look it over, and I’ll get started on the sim mod. It shouldn’t take long.”

  “It looks like a garbage can with cutouts in the top for windows and arms and legs. Not what I expected,” complained Smith.

  Chief called out from over at the sim control panel. “Hey, it’s for maint
enance work. It even has its own airlock for replacing parts. You can bring your arms inside to work on things. It may not be pretty, but you can, at least, scratch your nose.”

  “That could become important,” laughed Fitz.

  “Not what I’d expected, but we’ll have to see what we can do with it.”

  “What did you expect, one of your moon suits?”

  It had not occurred to Denver to ask. He looked over at Fitz. “Is the flight crew one of yours or one of ours?”

  “Yours? Ours? What’s he talking about?” asked the Crew Chief.

  “What he’s talking about is a major concern with the people of our society. Some people are already starting to question the wisdom of the ground fighting force,” answered Fitzpatrick.

  “Well, we don’t have enough people to do it. We’re already stretched pretty thin,” said Chief.

  Fitz raised a warning hand. This did not go unnoticed by Denver.

  “Okay, so there are things I don’t need to know.” He looked back and forth at the two of them.

  “Either there are too few of you, or you are too soft for this sort of work,” added Smith.

  “Sir, how long are we going to keep him in the dark?”

  “Oh boy, I truly hate dishonesty,” grumbled Fitz.

  “What were you guys trying to do, create some sort of technological utopia? Use your technology to keep yourselves separate and pure while building the perfect society.”

  “Nothing quite so grandiose or, at least, it did not start that way. Listen, we don’t have a lot of time. Chief, how long will this take?”

  “Just a few more minutes. Then I’ll have to check it out. They should be ready to go in a bit. If this works out, we’ll have to sell it to the flight crew,” responded the crew chief.

  Fitz put his hand on Denver’s shoulder and nodded in the direction he wanted him to go. No sense in having a witness if he is ever brought to task for any indiscretions.

  After they got to a safe distance, Fitz looked back over his shoulder at the crew chief. “Okay, let me level with you as much as I can.

  “First, there are not as many of us as there were. We had a lot of catching up to do, reconfigure our ships; it was only partly successful. We are getting better at it.

  “As you know, as a ground force, we sucked. We lost a lot of good men. So we were contented to stop them in space. One on one we do pretty well, but against their massed firepower, we have suffered defeat after defeat. We are losing this war. Think about it. Would we have gone back to the home world to recruit fighters if we could handle it ourselves?

  “Right now, everyone we can spare is flying something or busy modifying something to fight with.”

  “What about the Greys? Can’t you use their equipment?” inquired Smith.

  “Not really, they use some sort of direct mind control, and there are no accommodations for our needs. There’s no way we can attach guns to their ships. We’ve tried.”

  “Any attempts at combined operations?”

  “Including this one?”

  “Yes.”

  “One.”

  “Terrific. Then we’re it. Man! So all your guys are in the space force, and all our guys are grunts. Not a good idea to segregate them like that, but we are not going to accomplish anything about that here.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Fitz.

  “Ground troops always suspect that they are expendable. Your guys up there flying around and us down in the mud and blood. This could blow up into something bad.”

  “Okay, guys. We can maneuver the ship now,” assured Chief as he came up behind them.

  “Ready to call your people back?”

  “Not yet. Would it be possible for the three of us to try it first?” asked Smith.

  “Sure, if that’s okay with you sir.”

  “Yes, that way we can work out any bugs in the program.”

  “Bugs?” asked Chief.

  “Sorry, it means any problems with the programming.”

  “Oh.”

  “Chief, can you maneuver as the fight starts?” asked Denver.

  “Sure, what do you want me to do?”

  “Avoid getting shot.”

  “Sir, if you could take the command console, let’s try number one. Anytime you’re ready.”

  The targets came up fast from the front and started firing missiles. The crew chief tried to maneuver, but it did not accomplish much. After the third reset, they still got killed – quickly.

  “Okay guys, let’s stop and talk about this,” said Smith.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Chief.

  “We keep getting killed. Can you rerun it without missiles? Just show me how you fly this thing.”

  He did as asked. He moved up and down relative to his view and even right and left. “Okay, show me the missiles.”

  Once again the crew chief went through the movements and once again they were killed. “How many are we avoiding?”

  “Less than three percent.”

  “Ouch,” replied Smith.

  “We are not here to defeat the whole Reptilian fleet,” offered Fitz.

  “Yes sir, but there are two things I want to try. Let’s run it again, no maneuvering.

  They did, but this time, Smith fired at the incoming missiles with their smaller quicker missiles. They lasted longer before they got killed. “How was that?”

  “We’re up to better than six percent.”

  “Okay, can you give me some idea how to fly this thing?”

  “Sure. This toggle moves the nose where you want it. See put it here and the ship figures out how to do it.” The sequencing was strange to Smith, but he soon got the idea.

  Fitz spoke up. “This thing is not one of your fighters. It was designed to fly around the solar system on nuclear rockets. It’s easier to do with the Grey technology, but it’s still not a fighter.”

  “You’re right, but let me try. Can you record what we’re doing?”

  “Already am and it’s being transmitted. That is what you wanted wasn’t it?”

  “Well …”

  “That’ll be fine,” interrupted Fitz. Chief gave up the seat and Fitz started the sim again.

  Denver tried to roll the craft then juke right and left. Then he tried what would be considered a peddle turn. At least, he could see the missiles he avoided. He rolled back.

  “Where did you learn to fly?” asked Chief.

  “Who said I could fly?”

  “Not me.”

  “How did we do?”

  “Better, it’s nuts, but you avoided twelve percent. I don’t know if the ship can handle it, but you did,” offered Chief.

  “Sir, do you think we should get the flight crew in on this,” asked Denver.

  “I’ll see if we can get both of them if they’re not busy right now.”

  A few minutes later, the flight crew showed up. Fitzpatrick spoke up. “The ship is under the command of Lieutenant du Bois, and the first officer is Lieutenant JG Yang. Gentlemen we are trying to invent ways of keeping your ship in one piece after the Reptilians start throwing things at us.”

  “What have you come up with sir?” asked du Bois.

  “Do you think you can do that again?”

  “I’ll try sir,” responded Smith. Again they ran the sim. He juked and rolled and avoided. It seemed to work for a while.

  Lieutenant du Bois spoke up. “That’s impressive. Why did you do that?”

  “So we wouldn’t get hit.”

  “Can you hit anything while we are doing that, assuming the ship will take it?” asked du Bois.

  “I don’t know. Let’s find out.” The ship’s pilot took the flight position, and Smith went to the gun.

  It was on. The flight officer tried but failed quickly. “Blast! Run i
t again.”

  By the fifth run, he was starting to get the hang of it. Meanwhile, Smith tried tracking and blasting enemy missiles. “Harder than I thought. Chief, I thought the computer made adjustments once you put the crosshairs on the target.”

  “You’re not keeping the targeting marker on it long enough.”

  “Can you speed it up?”

  “On the real guns, I’m not sure about these,” responded the crew chief.

  “I hate to go into a fight without the troops having ever fired the real thing, but I don’t want to waste ammo,” mused Smith aloud.

  * * * *

  While Denver was deep in thought, the ship’s captain leaned over to Fitz and said in French, “This groundling seems to have taken over the mission.”

  And so it surfaces its head, as he had expected, prejudice against those who were not one of us. Fitz had wondered how long it would take.

  “Lieutenant, I’m still in charge of this mission, but that ‘groundling’, or any of a dozen other pejoratives you want to use, almost single-handedly saved the entire training camp from a sneak attack by the Reptilians. This man has killed more Reptilians than all of us put together. I think he’s worth listening to.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  * * * *

  “What about the big rocket?” asked Denver of no one in particular.

  “Run it again,” said Fitz getting up. “You try it.” Fitz took one of the gunners’ stations. He motioned the FO and the crew chief to the others.

  “Let’s all take a whack at it.”

  The big missiles took out several enemy ships, but there were not enough of them. The ship maneuvered and avoided the missiles that got through. The gunners were getting better too.

  “Yes!” Now the pilot was getting excited. He shrugged as Fitz looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Nothing like getting shot at and missed.”

  “How’d we do?” asked Fitzpatrick.

  “We missed enough to destroy 75% of them,” replied Chief.

  “How about I get my guys now sir?”

  Suddenly Fitz shivered. “I hate it when they do that. Get your people and gather in the galley. It’s time to meet the allies.” He took off the headband and rubbed his temples.

  “Commander, what just happened?” asked Denver.