by Chris Hechtl
“I've got my eyes on the boards,” Dom growled.
“Ticker okay?”
“It's fine. Mind your own body,” Dom growled. The navy medics had given him some medications after they'd scanned and poked and prodded him. He had been mollified when they'd done the same to just about everyone else. He'd also been gratified; they'd helped a lot of people, and some battered beyond his ability to help them effectively. Now everyone in the militia group was on their feet and at the top of their game.
String smiled at the testy voice. “We should have gotten you implants while you were being checked out,” he said.
“Pass. I don't want to turn into Briggs,” Dom said.
“Who said you would? I've got them, Sinjin does …”
“Pass. I like all original parts or at least as much as possible,” Dom answered, checking the RPMs on the left engine. He still wished they'd do a complete replacement. They weren't quite there on the part department, but close enough.
“You're not some old collector car, Dom,” String said dryly.
“Says you. One of these days I'm going to meet a cougar who will sweep me off my feet, just you watch,” Dom said.
“Okay,” String chuckled.
“Alpha to Wolf, status?”
“Wolf to Alpha, ready,” String said, voice dropping into cool professional tones. The banter was over. He sent a signal through his implants to drop the visor on the helmet. Not that he needed it for the HUD, he just needed it for the extra protection against the bright light that was about to begin. “Showtime,” he said over the intercom.
Dom settled himself. This was going to be a harry ride he thought.
“Bombardment in three … two …,” the voice went to static then cut out as the bombardment commenced. String watched orbital strikes from afar. Even with the sun shield HUD down, it was still bright; each bolt cutting through the sky and leaving a trail of thunder and mist behind it. He squinted, aware this was the first time a marine saw a strike from where he was in a very long time. He whistled softly in appreciation as he saw the mushroom clouds begin to rise. “It's like lightning strikes.” String said. “Thousands of tons of explosive force,” he said.
“Damn pretty Zeus thunderbolts,” Dom murmured, not looking up as he monitored the aircraft's status boards. He could see the impacts on his cameras and the overlay was impressive. “I wish we'd had this earlier,” he growled.
“Are we ready?” String asked.
“Wolf, you are a go,” Locke said over the radio.
“Dom?” String asked.
“What are you waiting for me for? Go! I wouldn't miss this for the world!” Dom growled, hanging on for dear life.
>}@^@{<
Once the orbital strikes softened up the targets, it was the Wolf's turn. They had staged the lone attack craft as well as five squads of handpicked marines west of the mines, in fact on the other side of the chain of mountains. They came in over the final mountain and then dived instead of overshooting and coming back in to approach from the east.
Wolf dove head first to the LZ and started firing rockets and rail gun rounds into the two emplacements left as well as the half-open mine. “That should keep their heads down!” Dom said with a grin in his voice from the back seat. “Hey, String, aren't you going to pull up now?” String? Striiing?” Dom's voice rose in a quavering wail as the main engines cut out. The sponson engines moved and then kicked, moving the aircraft away from the rock face and then moved again, dropping the tail. Then they swiveled a third time facing down and kicked on full burner.
The craft came in to a screaming halt a meter off the deck. She hovered there facing the entrance as dispassionate eyes and sensors plotted out motion and heat sources in the fire-blackened cavern. Then the weapons lit again, cutting the enemy down.
Dom coughed, chocking back on his urge to vomit. He could see the shuttles coming in overhead. “LZ secure. Make it snappy, people; we ain't got all day here,” he growled over the radio link.
“Roger that. Marines away!” a voice replied. A moment later he could see beings jumping from the aircraft into the open night air. One by one they spread out, then their falls were arrested as their parachutes deployed.
“We'll stay here until they are on the ground,” String said coldly.
Dom checked the stat board. The sponson engines were a bit overheated but within tolerances. But they were out of ordinance and down to forty-three rounds on the main guns. “String? You check the ammo? You know we're almost out, right?”
“Yeah, but they don't know that.”
>}@^@{<
“That's it, Dom; we're out of it,” String said as the shuttles began to unload troops to follow the black armored cat into the cave. The cat gave him the willies, and even more so when he realized the cat's part of the mission had been completed under stealth. Only when he'd called out from the cave had he realized the cat had slipped past him.
He pulled back on the collective, feeding power into the engines as he feathered them to move out of the marine's way. The Wolf rose with her characteristic roar and scream into the sky.
“Damn,” Dom said.
“We'll get to play again. Something tells me this isn't over,” String said.
“I'm talking about the troops. I'm impressed,” Dom said, and then he cleared his throat and harrumphed. “Just don't go blabbing that to them,” he growled.
String chuckled softly. “Wouldn't dream of it. Command, this is Wolf. We're bingo on all fronts. RTB for resupply. We can be back on station on call once we reload.”
“Roger that. We don't believe we'll need you, but we'll keep you in mind. Thanks,” Major White Wolf replied.
“Wolf, I want your sensor data the moment you get on the ground,” a familiar voice demanded.
“Nice to hear from you too, Arkangel,” Dom said in annoyance. “You'll get your data,” he growled. “Right where the sun doesn’t shine,” he muttered for String's ears alone.
String looked over his shoulder to the old coot. Dom shrugged then went back to studying his displays. The pilot shook his head and went back to the scene outside. “Roger that,” he acknowledged for the spy's benefit.
>}@^@{<
“You know a wolf isn't as effective alone as he is with his pack,” String said. They were still unsure if the mountain mission had been a complete success or not. The jury was still out.
But it had gotten them a great deal of breathing room. Room to take a break, catch up, get their bearings, and run some more PMCS on the bird. But idle hands eventually started to come into play. And with idle hands came thoughts on what to do with the excess time they seemed to have.
One of the biggest problems they had was that they couldn't be everywhere at once. Nor did they have anyone to whistle up if they got into trouble. They were it. They were the backup.
Apparently, some had ideas on how to change that, Dom thought as he sat back, crossed his arms, and listened to the whippersnappers hash the logic out for themselves.
“What are you saying?” Jason Locke asked, eying him warily.
“I'm saying we need the rest of the pack up and running,” String said, “all of the aircraft, Red Wolf and Scorpion, plus any others we can get up and running.”
“That's …,” Sinjin shook his head. “I was going to say impossible, but I think now, we can do it. We can do anything with time and effort … and the right help.”
“Right. Up for the challenge?” String asked.
Sinjin snorted and nodded. He turned to Locke. The intelligence officer nodded. “I'm in.” He turned to the girls.
“We're in,” Caitlin said, practically jumping in her eagerness.
“In,” Dom growled.
“Definitely in, if only to keep the rest of you out of trouble,” Mike said with an infectious grin.
“You just want dibs on one of the birds,” Jo teased.
He shrugged. “Well, that too,” he admitted. The group chuckled.
“I think with
three birds instead of one we'll have enough to go around. Certainly everyone will get stick and bucket time,” Dom replied thoughtfully. “But can it be done though? Those frames are there sure, but the babies have been picked over. We're talking no panels, the wiring harness is spaghetti, plumbing, engines, weapons …,” he shook his head. “Tall order there, String,” he said.
“But I think we can do it.”
>}@^@{<
They turned their attention to the other two craft to survey them with fresh eyes. Both craft had been taken apart over the years, right down to the frame. Dom, Jason, and Jo worked on comparing the frame measurements with those they got from The Lady.
While they worked on that, the rest of the crew ran an inventory of their spare parts. Jason got his hands on a small class I industrial replicator for the team to use, as well as a fusion reactor to power it. The replicator was great for the manufacture of small simple parts, but it was not enough for the specialized parts needed by the aircraft, nor the electronics that made up the bird's avionics. They also didn't have the clearances to make some of the higher-end components and definitely not military grade nor the special materials needed. It was a problem.
But the basics were there. Jo and Dom got the ground crews doing inventory once more, but this time cataloging each part into a database, then running a comparison on The Lady, counting each part if necessary. They came to the conclusion that the only real way to do it would be to start from the frames and build from scratch.
Dom sipped his coffee as the pilots and crew chiefs came together. They were tired, and some of them looked a bit less elated by the project. The combined project seemed daunting now that they had a proper grasp of what was in front of him. He privately admitted it was a steep climb, but he'd done more with a hell of a lot less of a starting point. They'd had to write the manual and rebuild the craft without knowing what they knew now he reminded himself patiently.
And the military personnel in the group had full access to the blueprints, manuals, and software. That was far more than he'd had.
“It might be easier and cheaper to have someone ship a couple new aircraft in, if anyone is building the things,” Jason said, shaking his head.
“I heard through the ansible that someone is,” Mike said, taking a sip of his coffee.
The intelligence officer turned to look at him in surprise. “Oh?”
The blond pilot shrugged. “A MAWTS facility is being set up on Agnosta. They will be training marine pilots on how to fly all sorts of craft there, including assault craft like this baby,” he said, patting the chin of The Lady gently.
“Okay, so, eventually, they'll have aircraft there, which doesn't do us any good here,” Jason pointed out.
“Then we'll um …,” Mike's eagerness ran out of steam as he realized the daunting chasm between dream and cold reality. “They aren't just going to ship them to us.”
“I can see if we can pull some strings,” Jason sighed. “See if we can get parts shipped in from Antigua. Maybe …,” he frowned and then shrugged. “No promises,” he warned. “I don't know if it will work.”
“How do you know about MAWTS?” String asked curiously, turning to Mike.
“Major White Wolf,” Mike admitted. They stared at him. He shrugged over his cup as he took another sip. “She's being reassigned there after she passes through her homeworld for a brief stint now that the new troops are landing. She's asked if I'd like to tag along. It was tempting, but I told her I'd rather stay here. She agreed.”
“Good to know,” String said with a grudging nod of approval.
“Don't set your career back,” Jo warned, eying Mike.
“I won't. There will be plenty of opportunities. I'm getting plenty of experience here, even though I don't get as much seat time as I'd like.” He grimaced. That was a familiar complaint from all of them. They all had to put in time in the engineering bucket, the back seat, as well as ground crew time equally if they wanted to be on the flight roster. Dom didn't play favorites with any of them, though he did tend to take the engineering bucket whenever String was in the hot seat. They made a natural pair.
>}@^@{<
As the night turned to day, Lieutenant Locke reported to the major for a debrief. The major had brought his own marine intel team in with him. That got Lieutenant Locke's attention, that and their disdain for naval intelligence officers.
He put in a quiet call to his nominal superior. By 1500 Archangel had arrived at the gate for a formal briefing of the senior officers. He was put out about the attitude the marines had for him and his profession. Two of the marine officers were ready to interrogate any prisoners they had caught to extract information. Captured enemy equipment had been secured and sequestered for future examination and intelligence value. Some of the equipment had been judged booby trapped by Arkangel and had been made off limits. Techs were called in to verify the assessment.
>}@^@{<
Major Pendeckle heard about the militia's lone air asset and called Lieutenant Hawk in. The Lone Wolf team arrived with their bird expecting a briefing.
String climbed out of the cockpit with Dom and Jo to find marines securing the pad. Techs moved in to check the bird over.
“Now wait a minute! Hang on there! Just a minute!” Dom snarled.
“Easy, Dom,” String said, pushing Dom away. “They are just trying to help.”
“The hell they are! Get your hands off my bird!” Dom snarled. A marine moved in to stop him, but String cut him off with a glare.
“At ease,” Major Pendeckle barked before things got out of hand. Sinjin, Lieutenant Locke, and Arkangel arrived at a trot.
“Sir, what's the meaning of this?” String demanded, jerking his thumb to the bird. “That's a militia bird. Major White Wolf negotiated for us to fly her and to work with the Wolf militia group, sir.”
“Major White Wolf is no longer in charge. I am,” Major Pendeckle replied coldly. “That's military property. We're taking it back.”
“The hell you are,” Dom said, lunging to get past String. String held the stocky old man back. “That's my baby! I put her back together! She's mine, do you hear me? I salvaged her, damn it! I have rights!”
The major just eyed the old man coldly. “You will be compensated. Eventually. But marine hardware does not belong in the hands of civilians.” His lip curled at the last word.
“Now you see here, bub! The Lady isn't something you sell,” Dom insisted hotly, stabbing a finger at him. His face was turning a rather alarming shade of rage red. “I've taken care of her, put her back together, wiped up her messes, and babied her for longer than you've been alive, sonny! No sale! No deal!” His niece got him to back off, murmuring softly to him to calm down.
“Sir, seizing the militia equipment will be detrimental to the relationship we've built, the trust we've built with the local militias and population,” Sinjin insisted. Arkangel and Lieutenant Locke nodded in agreement.
“Sir, they've followed orders and worked with us. They've saved our bacon a few times,” Lieutenant Locke said. “Most recently in the tunnel engagement. They also agreed to have military personnel help secure and fly the bird when Mister Santini isn't available.”
“Or me. Don't forget about me,” Jo said, still restraining her uncle.
“Sir,” Major White Wolf said, coming up behind them. They all turned to her. “I signed off on their keeping the bird. I forwarded it to Colonel Forth who agreed. He's not thrilled by the idea, but he knows there are more in the pipeline.” She transmitted the relevant report to his implants.
The major grunted as his eyes scanned the report. His fingers drummed on his belt as he checked the time stamp just to see if the major had done it recently to cover their ass. She hadn't. They could put up a big fight, and he wasn't sure where it would lead. Besides, he had a shipment of 222 birds coming in on the next convoy or so the manifest said. “Well, I guess we don't have a choice then. As long as they are willing to fly with military pilots and stay on
mission, they can keep the bird.”
“I guess you don't. Keep your filthy paws off my lady,” Dom growled, eyes flashing.
“Dom, we won, back off,” Jo told him. Pulling him away. She looked like a woman pulling an angry dog away. Dom kept glaring over his shoulder at the major and the marine guards until they were out of sight.
“You've been working with them?” the major asked, turning to the intelligence agents first. “And you signed off on it?”
Arkangel spread his hands. “We work with the tools we can find since we weren't given much to begin with,” he said sounding magnanimous.
“They are good people, sir,” Locke warned. “The Hawk brothers here were raised by Mister Santini. The Wolf militia unit is the most effective one here. Possibly the most effective on the planet.”
“Because of the bird,” the major grunted.
“They are effective in the air or on the ground, sir. Dom and I have had our share of fire fights,” the lieutenant replied. “He's a crack shot. They weren't keeping him back to protect him, sir, far from it.”
The major raised an eyebrow his way. String coughed in his fist and turned slightly to look at his brother. Sinjin just smiled out of the corner of his mouth. “You could say, sir, he's rather attached. He's also the best mechanic there is. I know he can teach the people here tons. Stuff they'll be able to use when the new birds come online and stuff they will be able to pass on to others.”
“All right, all right, you won. Don't rub it in. And damn it, don't make me regret it,” the major growled, holding a finger up.
“No, sir. The enemy is out there. We need to remember that.”
The major nodded and then looked to Major White Wolf. He nodded grudgingly to her then went on his way.
>}@^@{<
“Last minute thoughts, Major White Wolf? What's this about?” Major Pendeckle asked as he took a seat in front of the terminal. The major's ship was about to break orbit for the return voyage to Kathy's World and then eventually to Agnosta.