by Chris Hechtl
“It looks like we missed the party,” Captain Mayweather said dryly. She frowned, looking around as CIC updated the plot. The space around the jump point was quite the mess, dotted with drifting ships and wreckage.
Four IFFs lit up as tentative friendlies which surprised her. One was the destroyer, an Arboth class, the same class as Damocles and the ship they had recently captured in Antigua. She was exchanging fire with a Battlecruiser, a ludicrous sight.
“What's going on?” the Captain asked mildly. “Why the friendlies?”
“Looks like the party isn't quite over Captain,” Commander Logan replied, pointing her index finger to the ships. “Bearing ten mark sixty is an Apollo class. Disabled. It's reading as ours. Two Cobra class fighters are headed to it; one is tractoring the other.”
“Ours? Did they forget to change their IFF?” Purple Thorn asked, looking up and over to the commanding officers.
“No, they are ours. Fleet friend or foe beacon checks out despite the jamming we're receiving. We've got a few surviving gunships and a corvette on a different IFF frequency. They are fleeing the battle space now,” Firefly reported. “The IFFs have the Admiral's signature. I am sending you the sitrep from the ship AI, a Lieutenant Bounty now. It is rather...short and filled with gaps. I am assuming it is due to either the jamming, battle or damage to her communications.”
“Interesting,” the Captain replied scanning the document quickly. It was indeed brief and filled with holes, less than a page really. Apparently, the Admiral had recruited some friends and taken over several pirate ships and then had performed his own spoiler raid. She smiled wolfishly. From the looks of it, he hadn't done half bad. “Guns do you have the range on the BC?” She asked, puzzling over a few blank spots.
“Yes. We're at extreme range,” she reported.
“Then give them a send off. Fire forward missile tubes. A single broadside,” she ordered. “Target her engines and weapons. Let's try to take her alive,” she ordered. “Firefly, CIC, tie us into the Arboth's tactical net. We need to coordinate our fire. And get me a name of that ship; find out if Admiral Irons really is on board. Make certain,” she ordered.
“Aye aye, ma’am,” Firefly replied and then went to work.
---( | ) --- ( | )---
Jethro frowned at his Marines. All were suited up and ready to go of course; the ship was at battle stations. What bothered the troops was the lack of information; apparently, as usual the powers that be didn't think highly of keeping the grunts informed.
“All right Marines, listen up,” Major Pendeckle's voice cut through the chatter and checking of gear. Every head looked up. The Major was on the Marine channel, speaking directly to their implants. “We've got ourselves a situation it seems. Apparently, and we're only now getting word on this, Admiral Irons has put together a scratch force and has hit the Horathians.”
He paused when the troop bay broke into cheers. After a moment he snorted. “As you were,” he growled. That quieted the Marines.
“As I was saying, Admiral Irons has built a scratch force and hammered the Horathians. We're late for the party, and we weren't invited, but we're crashing it anyway. Some of the enemy ships have been disabled by weapons fire, some destroyed by it, some have been disabled by computer viruses launched by the AIs with the Admiral.”
That got a whistle of surprise and appreciation from some people.
“Can it,” the Major growled. “Here's the deal. Firefly is going to help the Admiral take down the big boys left over. We're going in to secure the enemy ships and clean up the mess. Watch out for what you've been trained for and remember the ships with viruses could come alive at any time. Put your game faces on people; it's time to go to work,” the Major growled. “Oorah! Mount up!”
“Semper Fi!” Jethro snarled, practically bellowing it. Other Marines echoed his sentiment.
---( | ) --- ( | )---
“Who do we shoot at, ma'am?” The junior tactical officer asked.
“The Battlecruiser of course! The enemy of my enemy and all that,” she said waving an imperious hand. “Range?”
“We're in extreme range now skipper. You want to take some pressure off the Arboth?”
Renee nodded. She had thought there had been a falling out between the pirates; now she suspected something different was afoot. She'd find out eventually. For now, she'd take advantage of the situation.
“The BC doesn't know we're in range yet. Or if they do they haven't reacted. Should we fire at all? That will draw fire our way,” the JTO said.
“It'll take some pressure off the Arboth,” Purple Thorn replied. “Is CIC certain of the ship IDs?”
Renee nodded. “Good point guns. Launch a spread of missiles into the BC's ass. Keep that bitch tied up on point defense guns,” Renee ordered. “For the record, intel said Admiral Rico had a cruiser or BC; I'm betting that is it,” she said, pointing a long finger at the icon of the mammoth warship.
“Keep her on the defense, aye, Captain. Fighters are out. Marine boarding shuttles are loading now,” the elf replied. She knew that they were in for the fight of their lives. The Battlecruiser out massed them by nearly double. Even battered she still had more guns and missile tubes then Firefly and the Arboth combined.
“Understood,” Renee replied as she watched the spread of thirty missiles go in. Some were ECM, but most were warheads. The BC's point defenses and counter missiles cut half of them apart, but some survived to hammer at her shields. Two cut through a hole in her shields and exploded against the armored hull. The enemy ship bucked like a mule. She grinned. She bet that whoever was on board was cursing the universe and their own luck right about now. Talk about timing! Even she had a hard time believing in the last minute save.
“Status?” The XO asked.
“CIC ma'am. We've taken out her stern sensors and perhaps half her drive. She can't run.”
“Can't run, can't hide. She's got a thick layer of armor though. And her teeth are still sharp,” the elf warned as Firefly took a hit. The capital class graser tore at the ship's bow as she frantically dived away and under the ship, rolling to interpose a functional shield and more armor in place of the beam. The beam took a millisecond to cut through the shield, but its angle was bad.
“Keep us on her ass and out of the line of fire of her main guns. Tactical, pick off her weapons first. Weapons and power plants,” Renee ordered. She knew getting at the power plants was a long shot, they were heavily embedded in the heart of the ship, through layers of thick armor. But they could use a bit of luck right about now. She shook her head, only Irons, if that was indeed the Admiral, only he would have the sheer balls to take on a BC with a tin can. And only he...and most likely the AIs with him were why that tin can was still alive. It was obvious that they'd done something to her computers. She scanned the sitrep CIC and Commander Firefly put up as the elf worked.
“Understood ma'am. We're working on it,” the elf replied, tapping at her station controls. Another broadside of missiles went out, along with a defensive drone. The drone intercepted counter missiles from the Battlecruiser. “They are throwing everything at us, including the kitchen sink, ma'am,” the elf quipped.
“Whatever, they're going to find it's not going to work in the end. The Marines?”
“Ready, ma'am.”
“Knock on the door and clear the way for them guns, Boat bay send them in,” she ordered.
“Aye aye, ma’am. Lieutenant Valenko's team are first up with the powered armor. They'll gut her from the inside,” the boat bay officer reported.
“Just don't get killed on the way over,” Renee muttered.
---( | ) --- ( | )---
Jethro got to the lock and started waving his men in. “Go, go, grab a seat Marines, stow the gear and get your ass belted in! No time to pussy foot around!” The Warhawk's cargo master said, waving them in. Jethro glanced at him. He was a human, dressed in a green skin suit but wearing a flight helmet. He waved Jethro in. “Get your ass in there ki
tty, find a seat and remember, we don't have any kitty litter on board!”
Jethro grinned and climbed on board.
“All right, all on board,” the cargo master called out, closing and dogging the hatch. “Hatch green. We're good to roll!” He called over the shuttle's net as he took his flip-down seat.
Jethro found his seat and sat. He felt something stirring in the armor but ignored it. “Launch hold, we're waiting until the Navy gives us the all clear,” the cargo master said, leaning over to Jethro.
“Thanks petty officer.”
“Why the wait?”
“You want to go charging into the enemies weapons fire and turn into a mote of plasma? I think we'll just let the Navy do its job,” Jethro said mildly to the private. “If you don't mind,” he said.
The private raised his hands in supplication as others snorted.
---( | ) --- ( | )---
“Captain, we've received a communication from the Arboth. She's the Bounty. Admiral Irons is confirmed on board,” Firefly reported, updating the main plot and then the plot on their individual HUDS. The AI hadn't been certain of that information and had requested a repeat of the first garbled sitrep to confirm it, along with an electronic handshake from Commander Sprite. Both had come in, with a sitrep update now that the Bounty had tied them into her network and was no longer jamming their signals.
Commander Logan and her Captain exchanged looks and grins. “Figures he'd be at the bottom of all this,” the Captain said wickedly. Shelby nodded.
“He sent an updated sitrep. The damaged Apollo on our Y axis is also one of ours, the Echo. Fighters as well. His courier ship Phoenix, Collier Lassie, and many enemy ships are adrift, damaged, disabled, or destroyed.”
That sobered a few of the crew, but not the Captain. She had more important things to worry about now. “Away the gig on search and rescue. Marines to boarding party duties. Suit them up and get them ready to fly,” she ordered Firefly.
“Aye aye, ma’am,” Firefly replied, sending out the alert. The Marines were already suited up, but half were in skinsuits, not armor. Major Pendeckle could decide if he wanted to fit other squads with armor.
“Be advised, a Marine boarding party is on the BC Captain.”
“What are they...” She shook her head. “Suicide.”
“As close as it gets it seems. Even for the Admiral this is insane.”
“I...”
“Captain, we've got her!” the Purple Thorn said excitedly. “She's locked up but attempting to maneuver! We've got one shot right up her sweet spot!”
Captain Mayweather smiled wolfishly. “Then by all means Lieutenant, fire! Take her down guns!”
Grasers and Force beams ripped into the wounded ship, tearing through her already weakened shields and armor to rip and gouge. With precision fire she disabled the wounded Battlecruiser in one pass with her guns. The giant ship drifted helpless.
---( | ) --- ( | )---
“Status report. Our fighters have dealt with all but one pirate Corvette. She and the gunships that were out of their range are running for the B103c5 jump point Captain,” CIC reported after a few minutes.
“Everything else is dead in the water,” Shelby said with a satisfied smile. “Shuttles are on final for the BC now.”
“Get them turned around ASAP. We've got more ships to pick up. I don't want the bastards getting whatever the AI did out of their systems and back underway,” Renee said.
“Aye aye, ma’am.”
“Can we chase the corvette and gunships down?” the JTO asked.
Renee looked at Shelby but she shook her head. “No, we need to stay here and cover what we've got. We're going to be busy launching shuttles and taking on wounded soon. Alert infirmary to be prepared.”
“Doctor Standish reported he's anticipated the need, ma'am,” Shelby said quietly.
“Good,” Renee nodded. “And he knows we'll have enemy as well as people from the Admiral's ships right?”
Shelby hesitated and then nodded when she finished texting. “He does now, ma'am.”
“Let ship's security and the Major know we'll need guards when they send anyone over. If they send anyone over,” Renee said.
“Aye aye, ma’am.”
“Status of the enemy ships? Any signs of life?”
“We've got fighters covering the fleet train, ma'am,” CIC reported. “They reported that they had to shoot one ship up but the rest are either just sitting there or have surrendered. The factory ship Captain doesn't sound too happy about it.”
“Tough shit,” Shelby murmured. “Glad he's had a taste of the other side,” she growled.
“Amen,” Renee agreed.
“The running corvette is an Apollo. She's streaming debris and atmosphere. Consumables she'll need if she's to survive the jump. Our current projection is that she won't.”
“Odds?”
“Ten to one she'll make it, ma'am,” the CIC rating replied.
“Benny tell you that?” the Captain asked with a half smile. Benny was their resident booky rating.
“Ah, yes, ma'am.”
“He getting any takers?” she asked idly. Shelby shot her an amused look. Renee shrugged.
“A few, ma'am. Or so he says.”
“Right. Something tells me their luck hasn't completely run out. Tell him...” she tapped at her lower lip with her fingertips for a moment. “Tell him to put me down for ten they'll survive.”
“Ten Captain?” The rating squeaked in surprise.
“You heard correctly.”
“Aye aye, ma’am. I'll let him know,” the rating said, returning to a professional tone. The Captain winked at the XO. “So, what other trouble can we get into. Damage report?”
---( | ) --- ( | )---
“Incoming call from Bounty. It's the Admiral ma'am,” Firefly said.
“Put him on the main vid,” the Captain said, getting out of her couch and standing at parade rest. She noted motion out of the corner of her eye and turned enough to see Commander Logan stand as well. She turned and noted her entire crew were now standing.
When the image of the Admiral came on, the bridge crew saluted as one. Irons blinked briefly and then something passed through his face. Respect and thanks before he schooled his features and returned the salute.
Irons looked good; in his skin suit and no worse for wear the Captain noted in approval as he struck the salute. She followed suit. “Small universe, Admiral,” the Captain said grinning and cocking her head.
“I was thinking the same thing,” the Admiral replied with a chuckle. “Good to see you. All of you.”
“I see you've made some friends and enemies, Admiral,” Firefly said.
“True to both Commander. It's a long story,” the Admiral replied, sounding amused and thoughtful. “How did you end up in the nick of time?”
“Again, long story, sir. We received intel of this fleet and well...” the Captain smiled.
“I see.”
“It looks like you did a good job taking care of it ahead of us.”
“Well, almost,” Irons replied wryly.
“Biting off more than you can chew, Admiral?” Captain Mayweather asked. “Even for you this is a bit much. I know engineers think they are miracle workers and all...” she said smiling. He chuckled. “Didn't anyone tell you using a tin can and a couple corvettes against a cruiser task force is suicide?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” the Admiral replied with a Gallic shrug and smile. “The idea was to hit them hard and fast, then get past them to jump to Pyrax and warn you folks. That part we were got hung up on,” he admitted.
“Well, it almost worked. Emphasis on almost,” the Captain reminded him with a smile.
“Well, not to brag or anything, but with you here it did indeed work. So all's well that ended well. At least for our side. Again though, why are you here? Not that I'm not grateful, but the timing...”
“We heard about the imminent attack when we were in Ant
igua and convinced Commander Logan to let us take a look,” Mayweather replied dryly. “It took a lot of convincing though.”
The Admiral nodded, face a bit stern. He was surprised they had been in Antigua; obviously like the Captain had said, there was a story there. If he knew Horatio it had taken quite a bit of convincing to let his most powerful asset go in alone. He was surprised Horatio had let them go to Antigua. “Good. A reconnaissance in force. Me too. Glad you aren't standing on the defensive. Thanks for the rescue.”
“It was a pleasure, Admiral,” Captain Mayweather replied, sounding bemused. She looked to her side, off camera. Commander Logan was frowning over a tablet. “Admiral, I've got some post battle chores...”
The Admiral nodded. “Repairing battle damage and such, I know Commander. Get on it. We'll be in touch soon. Coordinate your efforts in the captures and the Marines through Commander Sprite and Lieutenant Gustov.”
“Aye, sir. Glad you are back.”
“That...remains to be seen,” the Admiral replied, then waved as she looked at him curiously. “A matter for a later moment. Duty calls.” She nodded as he disconnected.
---( | ) --- ( | )---
“Odd,” Renee said as the Admiral disconnected. She puzzled over that briefly.
“In what way?” Shelby asked, sounding distracted. She had been busy checking in with Chief Chowler and damage control. Fortunately, they had gotten off lightly. Most of the damage had been to the shields. The shot that had breached their shields had done some damage though. An EPS conduit that had connected two nodes on that side had overloaded with them and exploded, unfortunately killing two ratings and injuring several others. Doctor Standish in infirmary had his work cut out for him.