by Chris Hechtl
“Do we even have a list?” Corgi asked.
“We've been working to build ourselves, to gather our material, and to blood our people—hitting targets of opportunity. Now we've got to do a bit more and do it while on the lookout for trouble at the same time.”
“Hopefully without hitting the man in white in the process?” Ed asked.
“If he's trafficking with the enemy, he's on his own there,” Dom said firmly. “He takes the chances; he risks his neck by playing both sides of the street. Maybe our acting on our own from time to time will remind him to think twice about who he plays ball with.”
“Maybe,” Ed said dubiously.
6
Acting on Arkangel's intelligence gave them plenty of opportunities to raid the enemy. The gains helped since they hindered the enemy while whatever they captured they could use against the Horathians in a future raid or turn over to some of the refugees hiding in the hills and mountains of the surrounding area.
Arkangel's gifts also helped keep The Lady in the air for much longer than they'd planned, though maintenance was a constant problem, right up there with fuel and ammunition. One such gift ended up being the components for a hydrogen separator. Another, a month later turned into a small Sabatier reactor that mixed the hydrogen with carbon monoxide and other components to create ethylene. Those precious gifts allowed them to make their own fuel. It couldn't make a lot, but if they gave it enough lead time it could make enough for one mission. That normally took about a week.
Which meant keeping the equipment up and running was important. Fortunately, K'r'll and a few of the other people from around the spaceport had experience with chemical works to handle the job. Dom just hoped and prayed someone didn't make a mistake and blow them up.
Dom received a priority alert from Arkangel's intelligence pipeline. A base was under construction near the Geronimo Pass, a big trade route. His ships still plied the area, running people and materials through to other areas. With the pass blocked, they'd have to take the long route around the mountain chains, which would double or even triple their travel time.
That was a problem. But if they flattened the base before the pirates set up their air defense, it would cost them time and materials to rebuild it. And they might get the chance to hit convoys in the process of building the base along the way; anything was possible he thought.
But not everything was as it seemed. They took off at dusk. Dom in the back, Jo taking the hot seat as pilot. She'd apparently played rock paper scissors with both Caitlin and Gypsum and beaten both for the honor.
When they arrived on the scene, Jo did a slow low orbit of the base to help them get their bearings. Dom's sensors probed the area for telltale radar or lidar signals. They found nothing.
“Like a sitting duck,” Jo murmured.
“Yeah, but the heat signatures don't make sense,” Dom said.
“What?”
“I'm getting readings, but many aren't moving. They are too consistent too,” Dom said. “There are a few people there; some animals, but the bodies that aren't moving bug me.” Every instinct told him something was wrong with the pictures he was seeing. When that happened, he backed off.
“It's a trap?”
“I'm not … bandit four o'clock!” Dom called out. “We're being pinged!” he warned as the threat receivers went off.
“Damn it!” Jo said, banking away and then seesawing in an attempt to break the lock. “I can't see it!” she called out.
“Climb!” Dom called out as the tone steadied and then whooped as a missile was fired.
Instead of climbing, Jo dropped down into a riverbed and fired a homemade missile into the ground. It erupted into a fountain of flame and debris which she climbed through.
The missile was momentarily blinded by the double image. It dove into the ground.
“Second missile, third! We've got two tangos!” Dom called out, working in the back.
“Dom, I can't see them!” Jo said, clearly frustrated.
“Two tangos,” Dom said, “one is above us, and the other is orbiting off to the left about six kilometers out. They have us bracketed,” he warned.
“What about those defensive systems?” Jo demanded.
“We've never tried them,” Dom protested.
“Now's as good a time as ever, right?” Jo said as she flipped the engines to kick the bird into a brief hover, then pitched them to turn the craft to orient on one of the approaching drones. The sparkle of lights from it finally gave her a target, but they told her it was firing on her.
She swore and squeezed the trigger, returning fire. Her fire walked through the tree line, shattering limbs and the drone pitched and moved off out of her line of fire. She pitched and yawed the Wolf but lost the craft in the dark.
“We've taken damage,” Dom warned as the aircraft shuddered. “Damn it!” he snarled, clearly unhappy at being outmaneuvered.
“Dom, we've got to get out of this,” Jo said.
“Readying a sunburst,” Dom said. “They are using heat seekers that should blind them. If the damn things work still,” he said.
“If?” Jo asked as the lock on started to beep then went to a steady tone.
“Missiles away!” Dom warned. “From Tango Two!”
“Dom, we've got to go hot on the lidar and radar,” Jo said as she pulled back on the collective while simultaneously used her thumb on the stick to orient the engines back to aircraft mode.
“Climb!” Dom urged as he hit a switch.
Panels on either side of the rear fuselage popped open. Pencil-shaped rockets erupted from them two. One misfired and just tumbled to the ground once its propellant charge was exhausted.
But the other one went off in a bright blinding flash. Brighter than the sun, bright enough to suck the heat seeking missiles into it instead of the intermittent aircraft's heat signature.
The sunburst did more than just decoy the missiles into exploding harmlessly behind them; it also blinded both of the attacking drones. One lost control and plowed into the ground, and its unfired ordinance went off, destroying it. The other drone climbed for the safety of the skies and left the area.
The Wolf was too battered and her crew too unsure of the situation to give chase. “I think we can see the better part of valor in this case. We've burned through enough fuel. Time to head back to the barn,” Dom ordered.
“Roger,” Jo said, voice starting to return to normal. Instead of staying on mission, they took the opportunity for their own tactical withdrawal from the battle space.
>}@^@{<
Lieutenant Shariff Samoy was not having a good day. And when he wasn't, neither was Sergeant Reginald Antwerp, one of his pilots. “What the hell just happened? We had it but …”
“It's got some sort of defensive system, sir. It blinded the sensors on the bird, and we were forced to abort. Or I should say, the bird's computer aborted on its own initiative to keep it intact.”
“Great. So, we lost what, one drone, the other got blinded, and we've got nothing to show for it?”
“Well, we did ding the enemy aircraft up, sir. You can report that,” the sergeant said, looking at him.
“Yeah,” the lieutenant sighed. “Something tells me though that's not going to be enough to appease the Baroness—not by a long shot,” he drawled as he left the building.
>}@^@{<
“Well, that could have gone better,” General Busche said evenly.
“I didn't know it could do that,” Arkangel admitted. He'd given up trying to steal the craft for his own purposes; Dom was too good. He'd even grudgingly admitted the aircraft belonged in Dom's hands.
Hopefully, Dom would never find out how Arkangel had just set him up.
Either way, it would play in his favor. If the craft had been shot down, it would have cemented his relationship with the general and allowed him into her inner circle. If as Dom had proved, the aircraft was too formidable, it would have destroyed several of the drones and that too was good.
Either way it had been a win win. He didn't regret the choice he'd had to make. He'd made similar decisions over the past several years. This one he'd lose a little sleep over, but in the end he knew he'd get over it.
“You have your base. Most likely they won't try that again,” Arkangel said.
Captain Alegra nodded reluctantly. “They have a pattern of not hitting the same target twice,” the captain said.
“Which is a minor bit of good news. With the pass secured, we'll be able to control one more entrance and egress point to the continent. But that's the only bit of good news it appears,” the general said, leveling her gaze on the lieutenant who was doing his level best to be invisible. Obviously he hadn't succeeded.
“We're down to four drones,” Lieutenant Samoy said, clearly unhappy. “There aren't any more in our inventory. Everything has been moved to the ground, ma'am. The transports have returned to the empire with our initial taxes,” he said.
The general grimaced. “And you're about to tell me there were drones in there?” He shook his head. She drummed her fingertips on the edge of the table, staring at the man. “Then what were you going to tell me?”
“Ma'am, three of the drones are surveillance drones only. The last is, of course, one of the armed drones, but its sensors were severely damaged by that flare weapon. Sergeant Antwerp is trying to rebuild them from our spares but …,” he spread his hands.
The general seemed nonplussed.
“If I may, can you build replacements from local materials?” Arkangel suggested. “I'm certain we can find some on the planet.”
“For the right price of course,” the general finished for him, clearly annoyed. He smiled and spread his hands apart. “Fine,” she growled, looking from him to the lieutenant. “Provide the man with a list as soon as possible.” She pointed to the man in white. “Don't disappoint me,” she growled.
“I'll try not to,” he said soothingly.
“See that you don't,” she said. “Or it will be the last thing you ever do,” she growled coldly.
>}@^@{<
When they got back to base, Corgi, K'r'll, and Dom puzzled out the defensive weapons all over again. “We took it for granted that they were all good. The same for the ammunition. Now I'm wondering.”
“Thinking there is some sort of shelf life?” K'r'll asked.
Dom nodded. “Something like that. We always think of the Old Federation's tech as lasting forever. Obviously that's not true; we've got impedance issues and other problems all the time. Why not this?”
“Why not indeed,” the Veraxin said. “Well, the sunbursts and chaff pods use some sort of air ejector and rocket kick motor to get them clear of the craft. Easy enough. The question is what the “sunbursts” are made out of. We're going to have to run some tests.”
“Okay,” Dom said, nodding. “Do us all a favor and do it with welding goggles and where no one can see it.”
“Oh, most definitely.
The following morning K'r'll ran a test with the ground crew and a group of kids. He set off a flare in a vice while the kids watched from afar. The motor kicked off, jerking the stand. Everyone looked away, hand up to shield their eyes from the flare before it went off. Even though they were wearing welding helmets and not looking directly at the device, Dom and K’r’ll were temporarily blinded. The bright flare of light had alarmed Dom, but at least they'd done it in the cavern. That relief was short lived; he had to scramble to check to make sure a ship wasn't passing overhead. None were, so that was a relief.
“Sunburst indeed!” Dom said as he flipped the helmet up and wiped at his eyes. “Damn that's bright!”
“You're telling me,” K'r'll replied. “I thought phosphorous but now I'm uncertain. I'll have to check my notes,” he said.
“Yeah, you do that,” Dom muttered as the Veraxin staggered away.
“I'm almost afraid to test the chaff,” Caitlin said from where she had been observing their antics. Dom had to orient on her voice; his vision wasn't quite what it once was. He definitely had no night vision. Those things were almost a weapon there he thought, putting the thought away for future use. “Over here,” she said, waving a hand. He finally settled on her direction as she approached.
“Do it where we can shield it. Here in the volcano if you have to. We'll move the bird or something,” Dom said, waving a hand.
“Right,” she drawled.
Later that day they set up tarps to try to contain the blast, then set off a chaff pod.
The device exploded into bright shiny confetti all over the hangar. Dom caught a strip and looked at it. He realized it was just tissue-thin aluminum foil. “Great, someone has to clean this mess up,” Caitlin said.
Hands went up in mock surrender as people retreated hastily. Dom shook his head and pulled out a push broom. If you've got to do something right, be prepared to do it yourself, he thought.
“Oh, what the hell,” Caitlin said. She too grabbed a broom, but occasionally she'd pick a handful up and drop it over Dom when he wasn't looking. When he growled, she snickered. “You look like a Christmas tree, all decorated in tinsel,” she said with an infectious grin.
“Tinsel …,” Dom frowned picking some of the material out of his hair. “Think we can get some?”
“Will it work?”
“We can try it,” Dom said. Caitlin nodded.
It took K'r'll a lot of trial and error, but the Veraxin eventually worked out how to adapt existing flares and tinsel with his rockets, then to create new brighter flares and chaff bundles to replace used ones.
Now, if they could just figure out how to rebuild some of the ammo ….
7
“We've got something,” Corgi said. Dom yawned as he came into the radio room. “Dom, you ain't going to believe this.”
“Try me,” Dom growled. “Too damn early,” he said wearily, looking at the clock. “You got me up when? For what? I mean I know I'm old, and my bladder wakes me up twice a night anyway but …”
“It's the Federation! They are here! There is a mother of all battles going on in space around us!” Corgi said.
Dom frowned, clearly struggling with the concepts his sleepy mind couldn't quite grasp. Finally, he did. “You're right; I don't believe it,” he said.
“Believe it! We're saved!” Corgi said, throwing papers up into the air as he whooped. His antics woke others who came to investigate. In short order the entire base was turned upside down with everyone awake and celebrating or informing the uninitiated at the turn of events.
“Now you've done it,” Dom muttered. That grumbling ended when Caitlin took one side and Jo took the other to kiss him on the cheeks. He grumbled but then aw-shucked a few times, making the girls giggle.
“Hey, you two know I was quite the ladies man in my time,” he said, jerking a thumb at himself.
“When was that, the stone age, Dom?” Caitlin asked, grinning.
“Very funny,” he drawled, glaring at her. She snickered.
>}@^@{<
General Busche got the report that the naval force had been driven off and snarled as she handed the tablet back to the private. “It figures. The navy drops the ball, and we're left picking up the pieces.”
“Ma'am? General, what do we do?”
“We fight of course,” she said eying the man. He was good; otherwise, she would have gotten rid of him long ago. But they had never experienced such a situation. They were used to being the victors she thought, accustomed to it, as they should be.
She, however, had made contingency plans the moment Gumel had reported the enemy's arrival. She was glad now she had had the foresight not to trust the pompous idiot. Of course he couldn't hold! “Order to all commands. We're going to be fighting a guerilla war, one on two fronts, against the native population and the enemy above. Get everyone into hardened shelters, in the mines or caves. Get our hardware and people dispersed; I don't want any nice fat targets for them to rock bomb into oblivion. Set up the decoys like I
ordered. Get that sorted out now.”
The private nodded, jotting out the orders quickly.
“Order every major prisoner to be executed now. Clean out the work camps and cleaning camps now and then blow them to hell.” The guards wouldn't be much against a determined enemy, but at least they were something. The native quislings she didn't trust at all. She was tempted to execute them just in case they turned their coats again but put the decision off. “Get any captured hardware we've got underground. Anything we can't hide and use later, we either take apart or reduce it to ash so they can't use it against us.”
“The spaceport, ma'am?”
She grimaced. She didn't like giving up the air power so easily. “Order the shuttles to secondary strips. They are already in their flight plans or damn well should be,” she said, eying the private. He nodded but gulped. She gave him the stink eye for a moment then let him off the hook. He wasn't responsible for such planning; her officers were.
“Get the fuel containers dispersed too. Near the shuttles so we can use it later. Dig in.”
“And the natives, ma’am?”
“We'll see if we can use them as hostages and leverage. If they are bleeding hearts, it might buy us some time. If not, well, it's on their heads,” she said with a shrug.
>}@^@{<
Their rescue didn't quite go as everyone hoped however. They were pleased that the pirates in space had been driven off or destroyed. But then all was quiet.
Several days later they heard the address from Rear Admiral White and the call from Baroness General Busche to surrender. It was broadcast on all frequencies across the planet.
“Who the hell is he kidding?” Dom demanded.
“He has to try, Uncle Dom,” Jo scolded gently.
“Hell, all he did was put her on notice that he's coming after her next.”
“Yeah well, she knew that already. He's testing her nerve,” Ed said. “Can we call them? Help them out? Coordinate?”