Ragnarok-ARC

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Ragnarok-ARC Page 39

by Patrick A. Vanner


  "They knew we were coming," Tony's voice whispered to her. "You were right—we've got a traitor on board."

  "Yes, but there's nothing we can do about it now," she replied just as quietly. "Besides, if that's the only surprise they have waiting for us, well, let's just say it won't be enough to even slow us down. Not enough by a wide margin."

  She saw a quizzical look on his face, and she flashed him another evil grin. Never taking her eyes off him, she tapped a command into one of her panels.

  "CAG, we've got Sally fighters incoming. Port and starboard, two squadrons each. Estimate time to intercept as twelve minutes. Launch the wing."

  "Yes, ma'am!" Kaufman's voice was exuberant. "Valkyrie Squadrons One through Ten launching for fighter intercept."

  Alex saw the look of comprehension crossing Tony's face as she closed her connection to Kaufman. One hundred forty of the latest model Valkyries against eighty Xan-Sskarn fighters. The term "overkill" was an understatement.

  "Lokis just went active," Green announced. "I'm blind."

  "Reconfiguring now," Tucholski called out.

  Alex looked at the projection and noted that the outlines of the Xan-Sskarn heavy cruisers were now surrounded by a pulsing purple ring indicating last known position.

  "Getting feeds from the outriders now," Green called out again.

  The outriders were Lokis as well, but unlike their three comrades in front of the Valhalla, they had not gone active, though they were still stealthed and almost impossible for the Xan-Sskarn to detect, especially at long range. Instead, they had flown out beyond the jamming fields and begun to parallel them. They were far enough out that they could scan both the Xan-Sskarn and the Valhalla, effectively becoming the Valhalla's eyes while she was hidden by the jamming fields.

  The projection updated again, and now not only were the Xan-Sskarn heavy cruisers upgraded to known targets, they were moving.

  "Lieutenant Green, how long until the Xan-Sskarns will be unable to avoid energy range?" Alex asked, wanting to make sure the enemy would not be able to escape.

  "Seventeen point three minutes at their current rate of acceleration, ma'am."

  "Excellent. Commander Tucholski, maintain current heading and speed."

  "Aye, ma'am."

  Alex stroked her chin, a small smile playing across her lips. Seventeen minutes, then the tables would finally be turned. She spoke to the red icons of the Xan-Sskarn heavy cruisers.

  "You're not the only one with surprises out here, my friends."

  * * *

  Barbie sat in the cockpit of her Valkyrie with her helmet on, faceplate up, and the cockpit open. She and her RIO had been sitting in the cockpit since the call to general quarters. The fighter was armed and lined up with the launch tube, ready to taxi into it and be hurled out into space. The rest of First Squadron was lined up down the bay beside her. The Valhalla could launch fourteen Valkyries, one full squadron, from each hangar deck at one time. With the entire wing ready and lined up, the Valhalla could launch all one hundred forty of her fighters in under five minutes.

  "So, you never did tell me where you got your call sign from, Flynn?" Barbie said into her helmet mike. She was patched into their private channel.

  "Oh, it comes from some old vid star, a couple hundred years dead, I think," Commander David Socha replied. "Some guy named Errol Flynn. He was supposedly some dashing, handsome scoundrel, and, well, the ladies at flight school seemed to think it fit."

  "Oh, Lord help me," Barbie laughed. She was bouncing back to her normal self thanks to Flynn, but she still couldn't tell when he was being serious or not. She chose not this time. "I bet you picked that one out yourself as soon as you graduated, trying to get away from some horrible call sign."

  "I would never do that, break with tradition like that. I'm shocked that you would think such a thing." He was laughing now, too.

  She opened her mouth to say something else when the CAG's voice crackled in her helmet. She pulled her faceplate down and saw that he was talking across the squadron commander's net.

  "Okay, boys and girls, listen up. We've got four Sally squadrons inbound, ETA twelve minutes. Two on each side of us. The captain wants this taken care of quick, fast, and in a hurry, so we're launching the entire wing. Alpha Flight will take the port-side bandits, Bravo the starboard. Any questions?"

  Barbie didn't have any, and she doubted that any of her other squadron commanders did, either.

  "All right," Kaufman's voice came back after a moment's pause. "Barbie, they're all yours."

  "Roger that, Hangman. Alpha Flight will engage port-side incoming fighters. Bravo Flight will engage starboard incoming," she said formally over the net. "Valkyrie Wing 115 will comply."

  She reached out and hit the control to close the cockpit, then began to check the seals of her flight gear. Once she was satisfied that everything was as it should be, she ran a practiced eye over her panels while her Valkyrie taxied into launch tube one.

  "This is Valkyrie One-one," she said over the squadron commander's net, identifying herself as First Squadron's first Valkyrie and also as the wing commander. "All squadrons will hold at one thousand kilometers after launch and await further instructions from the flight commander."

  A chorus of acknowledgments came back to her as the tube door finished sealing. Now it was time to worry just about her and Flynn until they launched; then the fate of Valkyrie Wing 115 would once more be in her hands.

  "How do things look back there?" she asked Flynn over their net after verifying that everything was good on her side of the cockpit.

  "Looks good. I've got green lights on all the diagnostics, weapons are hot, and I've got a positive catapult lock."

  There was a momentary hissing as the air was removed from the tube, but it quickly stopped as a vacuum was established.

  "This is Valkyrie One-one, requesting permission to launch," she said formally to the tower.

  "Permission granted, Valkyrie One-one. Good hunting. Launching in three . . . two . . . "

  Taking a deep breath and tightening her muscles, she waited for the countdown to finish and was slammed back against her chair when it did. Her Valkyrie raced down the tube and shot into space.

  Pulling the stick over while stepping on the foot pedal, she banked her fighter away from the ship and headed toward the rendezvous point. She slowed her fighter to a near stop while the rest of her flight launched and formed up on her.

  Checking her monitor, it looked like the flight had finished launch operations. Opening her squadron's net first, she confirmed that all of her pilots were with her, then she switched to the flight's net, calling for confirmation on the rest of the flight.

  "This is Valkyrie One-one, reporting successful launch."

  "Valkyrie Three-one, all present and accounted for."

  "Valkyrie Five-one, we're all here."

  This continued on until all of her squadrons reported in; the launch had been completed without incident. Switching nets once more, she verified Bravo Flight's status.

  "Valkyrie Two-one, verify status of Bravo Flight."

  "Valkyrie Two-one reports successful launch." The official tone of the speaker's voice dropped away as he added, "Good hunting, Barbie."

  "You too, Jackal. See you back on the deck."

  She only had one more report to make, and then it would be time to go to work.

  "CAG, this is Valkyrie One-one, reporting successful launch of Wing 115."

  "Valkyrie One-one, this is the CAG, roger that," Kaufman said. "Good luck, and good hunting."

  She cut back to Alpha Flight's net.

  "Okay, boys and girls, here's the plan. First, Third, and Fifth squadrons will go straight in. Seventh, you'll split your squadron—half go in from above, the other below. Ninth, you'll hold back and take care of any that get by us."

  Her squadron leaders accepted her orders with a variety of answers.

  "Now let's see what these new I-Coms can do in real combat. All Valkyries a
ccelerate to full engagement speed. It's time to dance."

  * * *

  Barbie jerked the stick over while she reversed thrust and stomped on the right pedal, standing her Valkyrie on its left wing for a fraction of a second. Ramming the throttle forward, she sent the fighter shooting ahead, diving directly at a Xan-Sskarn fighter trying to get a lock on one of her pilots.

  She squeezed the trigger on the control stick, and her cannons blazed to life, disintegrating the Xan-Sskarn ship. Letting out a howl of triumph, she continued on her flight path, racing through the expanding ball of fire she had just created.

  "We've picked up a tail, Barbie," she heard Flynn say. Swinging her head around, she tried to find the target but failed.

  "Where is he?"

  "High on our six and coming in fast."

  Barbie started to put her craft into a reverse roll that she hoped would send her assailant racing past her. She never got to finish the maneuver.

  "Missile! Break right!" Flynn shouted. "Releasing countermeasures."

  At Flynn's warning, she had put the Valkyrie into a tight barrel roll. Coming out of it, she saw two Xan-Sskarns were on the tail of a Valkyrie.

  "Five-two, you've got a pair on your tail. Pull up—I've got them."

  She watched as Five-two's Valkyrie went into a sharp climb and waited for the Xan-Sskarns to try and follow him. When they did, they flew directly into her line of fire.

  "Eat this, you bastards!" she growled, attempting to impart her fury into the blast by pulling savagely on the trigger.

  Her first burst flamed the left-hand fighter out of existence, but as she pulled over to get behind the right-hand one, it dove straight down, trying to execute the maneuver she had been attempting earlier. Recognizing this, Barbie pulled up into a loop of her own.

  Coming out of the loop, she saw her opponent pulling out of his, leaving them both heading directly at each other. She couldn't get a lock on him before they raced past each other, inverted, with less than a meter between their cockpits.

  "What the fuck was that?" Flynn's strangled voice half shouted.

  Barbie didn't respond; she was already hunting for another target. Unfortunately, they were becoming hard to find; her flight was systematically blowing the Xan-Sskarn fighters out of space.

  "I don't see any more bandits out here, do you?" She demanded of her RIO, her bloodlust not yet slaked.

  "I see a few knife fights still going on, but they'll be over before we can get there."

  "Damn!"

  "Don't worry about it, boss." His voice was serious. "I have a feeling that we'll do this dance quite a bit for the foreseeable future."

  "Yeah, you're probably right." She glanced at her display and saw only the green icons of her Valkyries. "We're clear out here. Let's round up the kiddies and head on back to the barn."

  * * *

  Alex watched the distance shrink between the Valhalla and the Xan-Sskarn ships. The last seconds of her timer flashed by, and it was now time for them to give the Xan-Sskarns a surprise for once.

  "Commander Tucholski, take us over the top of our Lokis, one hundred kilometers above the outer edge of the jamming field," Alex called over the net. "Full military power, maintain current heading. I want to pass right between them."

  While the navigation officer implemented her orders, Alex turned her attention to her communications officer.

  "Commander Albers, contact our outriders, have them maintain their current heading and speed. When the jamming fields drop, have all Lokis move to rendezvous with the Valkyries and wait for further orders."

  Albers acknowledged the orders, turned to her boards, and sent out the message.

  "Guns," Alex said, patching into tactical's net. "Set PDLs and PDGs for maximum fire interdiction. I doubt they have any fighters left, but if they do, we'll just call Barbie in to deal with them."

  She watched him nod as she continued to issue her orders.

  "Prepare your drones and bring your ECM on line now. As soon as we read missile separation, deploy the drones. Don't wait for my orders."

  Commander Fain finished reiterating her orders and implementing them before he asked a question.

  "Targeting priority, Captain?"

  "Maintain a lock on each of them right now, but hold your fire. I want to wait until we are within powered-missile range before engaging, if we can."

  "Understood, ma'am."

  "Captain, it looks like they've finally figured out that they've been suckered," Lieutenant Green reported. "They're heaving to and trying to run for it."

  "Let them," Alex said, maliciously. "The Valhalla's got the legs to chase them down. How long to powered-missile range?"

  "Ten minutes, ma'am, but that's a rough estimate right now. Looks like we've scared the hell out of them. They're still accelerating. They have to be redlining their reactors to be generating that much delta-vee."

  "Let me know when you have a firm time."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  * * *

  Ki-Xarn Pi'Hosin stalked around the command center, hissing at the current situation.

  What kind of ship is that? There is no record of it ever being seen before. And the power! Even if we believe only half of what our sensors recorded prior to their interference fields coming on line, two Kiras are no match for it. Fleeing from battle sickens me, but while honor dictates that I fight for the glory of the Xan-Sskarn Empire, honor also reminds me that I have a responsibility to my ship and crew not to waste their lives in a hopeless battle.

  "What is the status of our engines?"

  "The engineering staff reports that the engines are at maximum output, Ki-Xarn," Pi'Hosin's second-in-command reported. "Tactical calculations show that we will be unable to avoid combat."

  "I can see that!" Pi'Hosin snapped out. "Can we establish a connection to the Deep Waters?"

  "Negative, Ki-Xarn. The Dry-Skins' interference field is too powerful."

  So we can not even inform the high commander of this new type of ship. So be it.

  "Plot a firing solution and prepare to fire on my command."

  "But we will not be within effective range for several more waves."

  "I am aware of that, Xarn," Pi'Hosin's voice sounded resigned. "There is no other option. We must attempt to do as much damage to them as possible before they get into range, because when that happens, our lives will be in the hands of the Supreme One."

  * * *

  Alex was concentrating on the plot, watching vectors and times changing, when Tony interrupted her thoughts.

  "I'm surprised that they let us get this close without confirming their target."

  "Oh, I'm not," she said distractedly.

  "Why's that?"

  "They got complacent. Everything's been going their way so far—they saw no reason for it not to continue to do so. They weren't even worried when they lost contact with their fighters, assuming it had to do with the Lokis and not because they'd all been destroyed."

  She leaned back into her chair, elbows on the armrests, fingers interlaced under her chin.

  "And now we're going to make them pay for that complacency."

  "Yes, ma'am. That we are." He gave her an evil smile of his own.

  "Powered-missile range in fourteen point five minutes, mark," Green said when the Xan-Sskarns' acceleration finally leveled out. "And we'll be in beam range ten minutes after we cross the missile envelope."

  "Thank you, Lieutenant."

  The command deck was eerily silent for the next ten minutes as all eyes watched the distance fall.

  "Vampire, vampire, vampire!" Green's shout ratcheted the tension on the command deck up a notch. "Tracking multiple missile launches from both cruisers."

  "Drones away, Captain," Commander Fain reported, and Alex watched as a pair of Valhallas joined the first on her plot. Not that the drones would do much good at the moment. The missiles coming in at them now would be ballistic by the time they arrived. But in four minutes, when they finally entered powe
red-missile range, those drones would emit their siren call, hopefully dragging many a missile to its death, away from the Valhalla.

  Alex watched as every missile of the first salvo was intercepted and destroyed by the point-defense net. She activated the repeater display above her head, allowing her to actually "see" the point-defense net in action. The tri-barrel point-defense lasers picked off missiles at long range. Any missile that managed to run that gauntlet ran right into the teeth of the point-defense guns. The twenty-five-millimeter, six-barreled chain guns cycled at a phenomenal rate, the shells destroying the missiles before they could reach effective range.

 

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