Hawk Genesis: War (Flight of the Hawk)

by Robert Little

  At twenty minutes, ten minutes ahead of schedule, all twenty-one of his remaining flight crews, plus three additional fighters his maintenance crews had managed to bring back to life, were on standby with the flight decks evacuated. He messaged the admiral and then leaned back and tried to get comfortable. His crews were veterans and knew enough to double and triple check their own craft, and then get some sleep.

  This time around he wasn’t going to be launching jammers and spoofers, and his brother asked about that. Chamberlin told him, “We’re going to be the second string for a new weapon that fleet has just introduced. It’s called Ferret, and it reportedly did well in the opening engagements. We’ll sit back about thirty thousand kliks and bounce anything that gets through the Ferrets.” His brother asked, “What the hell is a ferret?”

  Chamberlin said, “Those large carriers you see behind us represent a brand spanking new class of defensive weapon system, and hold not only fighters but a new craft called the Ferret. Each Ferret controls sixteen separate robot craft that launch arrows – tiny darts that use kinetic energy to destroy their targets. Each robot holds ten thousand darts, there are seventy-two Ferret craft, for a total of, um, nine hundred sixty two robots, each with ten thousand arrows. However, the heart of their system is the way they acquire and track targets. It’s apparently an order of magnitude better than anything in space.”

  His brother was quiet for a brief moment and then he laughed, “That’s the reason for the strange ship names.” Chamberlin smiled – he was too tired to laugh. “Yeah. James, please check your crews one last time, we’re about to launch.” His brother cut the channel.

  Ten minutes later bright red lights lip up on both the flight deck and on Chamberlin’s console. He quietly ordered his crews to launch. Seconds later his sight grayed as his ship was accelerated out of the flight bay. He and his crews waited to get out of the carriers own drive field and on Chamberlin’s command all twenty-four tiny fighters went to maximum military acceleration, heading toward another engagement. His carrier once again headed back toward the possible safety of the rear. If sufficient quantities of enemy fighters were able to break through, however, his carriers were going to get hit very hard – they were about as tough as an eggshell. His carrier was totally unarmed, very slow and wouldn’t survive even the light missiles that fighters carried. It was his job to ensure that his carrier survived. It had spent as many as fifty years as a small freighter before being hurriedly transformed into a very crude war ship. He sincerely hoped it could return to hauling freight, once the war ended.

  Chamberlin’s few fighters found their assigned sector and they decelerated to a stop, relative to the as yet unseen Ferrets, which were supposedly on station a few thousand kilometers ahead of him. He had been instructed not to use active sensors and so had to take it on faith that these strange new ships were actually in place. He did see an enormous number of federal fighters however, nearly one thousand, and there were more that his systems just couldn’t process. This was the largest engagement he’d ever been a part of and it made him feel strange, as if he and his crews were insignificant.

  Considering their horrid losses, that caused him very powerful feelings of frustration, rage and grief, feelings he tried to forcibly put aside, but his emotions rebelled. He suddenly saw himself from two disparate viewpoints: a solitary individual in one of the largest and most crucial battles in human history, and as a remote observer, looking down on the thousands of craft and debris that used to house fragile human beings. He uttered an incoherent scream of rage, and his vision cleared: once again he was an individual in an incomprehensible and insane war.

  He made a general call to his crews, bringing them up to speed on what he knew and suspected, but they already understood the most important part – rebels would once again be trying to kill them.

  Periodically, he received reports from up stream, telling him mostly that nothing was happening, which he already knew, but still a relief from earlier in the day. He was now positioned very close to the main federal forces, and consequently better able to receive reports.

  For over one hour his ships floated in an immense cloud of federal fighters. He wasn’t doing much more than checking on his crew’s status. Most of them were actually sleeping, something that would have astonished him two years ago, but which he now took for granted. War is long periods of boredom, interspersed with brief periods of terror. It was about time for another spate of the latter.

  His monitors lip up with what looked like brief sparks as the Ferrets began launching their arrows. Missile boats began launching dense waves of heavy missiles and from further back missile ships spouted streams of even more heavies. Chamberlin had never seen this large a missile launch, and within seconds his plot was overloaded. He’d expected something like this and sent a warning to his crews, “Don’t worry about the big picture, concentrate on our own tiny sector, and don’t launch unless I give the order. We’ve only got four missiles and we don’t know how many targets we’re going to have. I’m guessing, however, that we’ll have enough to share.” He heard a chuckle from his pilot.

  Over the next ten minutes the tiny flickers on his monitor came faster until they were almost continuous. He had seen more than three thousand heavy missiles pass through his own area and he knew there must have been many times that number. His own recent battle paled to insignificance with this enormous clash.

  He began to see distant explosions on his monitor. His cockpit was cramped and his screen wasn’t large enough to permit much definition, but the number and size of the flashes of light continued to grow. Once or twice his system registered close-in explosions that were apparently either Ferrets or their robots, but nothing seemed to be able to penetrate the defensive shield they were throwing up.

  Missiles continued to pass his position, all outbound. The missile boats had long since emptied their racks, but the huge missile ships just kept launching missile after missile. He’d not seen one inbound missile. Yet.

  Chamberlin noticed that now the outgoing missiles were the smaller, light missiles, and he commed his crews, “If something is going to happen in our sector, it will be very soon. Eye’s open, head’s up.”

  Finally, he saw evidence of the approach of a large flight of enemy fighters. They were apparently concentrating on one sector of the defenses. Chamberlin knew that the Ferret system wouldn’t care what the enemy ships intended to do; if they were in range, they were going to get targeted until they ceased to be a threat, which in the case of a fighter, meant that they were an expanding cloud of vapor and tiny bits and pieces no larger than a few millimeters.

  His scan of the document he’d received revealed the fact that the kinetic darts were launched with enough velocity that when they intersected with the drive field of the rebel fighters the resulting transfer of energy overloaded the system, causing it to explode. Violently.

  Fighters disappeared in fierce boils of light, yet the attack continued to close. Within the space of less than five minutes Chamberlin saw more than three hundred fighters disappear, yet more than one thousand remained. They were now close to one hundred thousand kilometers from the Ferrets, which continued to fire their unseen darts. Chamberlin knew that at this rate of fire, the strange craft would empty their racks within just another few minutes, but he had seen so many fighters destroyed that he couldn’t imagine how the enemy could continue in the face of such terrible fire.

  A wave of explosions lit the darkness of space as hundreds of fighters silently exploded. Less than one hundred managed to launch their own missiles, and literally thousands of federal missiles leaped off rails to counter them. Only a handful managed to get past the Ferrets, and none of those were in Chamberlin’s sector.

  Finally, their missile racks emptied, the remnants of the rebel fighters turned and retreated back toward their own lines. Ferrets continued to launch arrows, although at a reduced rate. By now Chamberlin’s system had counted over six hundred destroyed fighters, and
he knew there must have been more. It had been the most one-sided battle he’d ever witnessed, or even heard about, and he wondered why the enemy had even tried – it was clearly a suicidal attack.

  As soon as the attack turned back, Chamberlin saw some of the Ferrets turn and race for their carriers, which were moving forward to meet them. Over the space of two hours, all the Ferrets reloaded and were back in position. The federals didn’t attack, but he’d seen so many failures to exploit an advantage that he didn’t even think twice about it.

  He and his crews remained in place. If he’d been in charge, he would now be in the rebel rear area.

  Finally, Chamberlin received permission to stand down. His crews turned and slowly accelerated back towards their carrier. Their long day was about to end, and the rebel forces were reportedly jumping out. It had turned out to be a very big victory, and a possible turning point in the long war. He hoped it really was a turning point, unlike all the earlier turning points that hadn’t managed to turn much of anything.

  As he approached the Deklerk, Chamberlin could see several colliers and a Fast Fleet Freighter docked to his carrier. They were being resupplied with yet more missiles and replacement fighters, suggesting to Chamberlin that he was not going to be making planet fall any time soon.

  Due to the resupply, only one dock was available. One by one, his crews edged into the single bay, which could only hold four fighters at a time. As soon as the hanger aired up, service crews moved the small craft out of the hanger via elevators, making way for the next four.

  Within an hour all of his remaining crews were enjoying a hot shower.

  Two Years, Three Months Earlier

  Their flight leader screamed at them, “You idiots! What were you two doing when God handed out brains? Dieting? I told you in the briefing – you do remember the briefing don’t you? You were to position your fighters precisely one kilometer off the starboard wing of your squadron leader, the red-faced man standing in front of you at this precise moment. Apparently, on whatever dirtball of a planet you two came from, a kilometer is an imprecise measurement denoting the distance you can walk barefooted in one hour. May I remind you that you are no longer mud farmers, you are fighter pilots! One kilometer means exactly, precisely, one thousand meters. Nine hundred meters of separation can get your flight leader, the red faced officer presently screaming at you, precisely DEAD! Should that happen, his wife will get a nice visit from a fleet chaplain, telling her that YOU KILLED HER HUSBAND!”

  John said nothing, just stood rigidly at attention in a puddle of intense shame.

  Chapter 6

  That evening Chamberlin gathered the pitiful remnants of his fighter crews, and they held a wake. Normally, these were reasonably rowdy events, but his crews were physically and emotionally exhausted – almost three out of four pilots and navigators were dead. Fortunately, three crews had been rescued.

  As soon as the carrier was replenished with a full load out of missiles, replacement capacitors and an astonishing seventy brand-new fighters and their also brand-new crews, the DeKlerk got underway. Along with its three elderly companions it was to serve as escort for the new Ferret defensive weapon platform. Chamberlin’s pilots were delighted with the assignment, as it boded to be far easier than the one they’d just survived. They knew that their carrier’s acceleration was, to be kind, leisurely, and this was probably the reason for the assignment.

  Chamberlin had some reservations about the Ferret system, although it had worked very well in its first test. He thought at least part of the success had to do with the fact that the enemy knew nothing about it. Now, its weaknesses would be exploited and it would become just another element in a war that had dragged on far longer than anyone would have expected. It was also beginning to change dramatically, as federal defense industries finally began churning out new weapons.

  He received a visit from a high-ranking captain who spent two hours going over John’s part of the immense battle. He departed, leaving behind him some surprising praise. Surprising because it had been such a small part of an immense battle. However, the captain had been of the opinion that his stubborn refusal of the enemy flanking attack had saved hundreds, possibly thousands of lives, and may in fact have saved the entire battle. Chamberlin didn’t know how to respond to that, and said so. The captain smiled as if he’d expected that reaction.

  They took some much needed rest as the carrier accelerated at its maximum military setting, struggling to catch up to the new and faster carriers that had survived their first combat, although not unscathed.

  Chamberlin called a meeting for his flight crews. Forty-seven of the sixty new crews were fresh from flight school, meaning they were very raw indeed, but the other thirteen were experienced, three of them highly so.

  Chamberlin divided up his crews so that each flight of four had at least one veteran. As he spoke to the mostly new flight crews, his maintenance people worked feverishly to bring the new fighters to life. They knew they didn’t have much time, and they feared they might not have any.

  They jumped out of the system, the first of many jumps. The Federal fleet had allowed the rebels to break free, and was now struggling to get back into contact and if possible, force them into an engagement. Unfortunately, the rebels were once again proving to be nimble. On the other hand, the more time Chamberlin had with his mostly raw flight crews, the better.

  Between jumps he was able to schedule a series of exercises, starting with simple tasks involving groups of four. The initial results ranged from ragged to dangerous, as in, dangerous to his crews. They also suffered some probably inevitable problems with the new fighters.

  Fourteen of them represented a brand new model. It had the same basic flight parameters as the older craft, but could handle sixteen missiles. On the other hand, it didn’t have an offensive laser system, although it did have the two standard, lower power and usually useless defensive anti-missile lasers. Chamberlin decided to include one of the new heavy fighters in each flight of four.

  Approximately twelve hours behind the rebels, the lead elements of the federal fleet entered an uninhabited but mapped system. Initial probes didn’t get blown up, so some heavy elements pushed into the system, found nothing but the faint traces of the rebel fleet that had apparently pushed across the system far and fast enough to remain out of sensor reach.

  The far larger main body of the federal fleet streamed into the system and cautiously pushed after the fleeing rebels. The DeKlerk remained close to the Ferret carriers that were positioned up near the head of the line. The DeKlerk could not sustain as high an acceleration as the newer ships in the fleet, and as a result its engines were typically running at their max military settings, something its captain thought was a Very Bad Thing.

  John Chamberlin’s brother was a senior lieutenant and had been with John through the entire war. The two were very close. John constantly worried about his brother’s safety, and had lobbied hard to ensure that James was assigned with him.

  James idolized his older brother; a fact of life John had great difficulty dealing with. Their father was furious with John for “stealing” James away from the army, and his enmity toward John had transferred to James, who now shared equally in his father’s displeasure.

  During those periods when they weren’t actually training up, John kept his flight crews at a high state of readiness. Their eagerness to learn was no doubt inspired in large part by the fact that they were replacements for an excellent crew that had been nearly entirely wiped out in the space of less than one day. Imminent death can be a very good source of inspiration.

  The rebels left behind small forces whose purpose was to slow down the lumbering pursuers. The lead federal elements were hit with a fairly light missile attack, launched from a screen of destroyers who emptied their racks and then turned and fled. Very few missiles struck home, but the rebel intent was to pin the federals in place rather than force an engagement.

  As soon as the inbound missiles w
ere detected the Indian carriers flushed their Ferrets, but before they could get into position to screen the fleet, the enemy destroyers had departed.

  As he watched the plotting board, with the traces of the rebel destroyers already edging out of detection range, John told James, “They’ve already figured out one of the principal weaknesses of the Ferrets: it takes them as long as thirty to ninety minutes to get into position. They’re going to hit and run, hit and run, and those poor Ferrets are going to spend all of their time rushing to get into position, then rushing back to their carriers. I’m glad I’m an old fashioned fighter pilot.”

  As John had predicted, the next week consisted of a series of hit-and-run attacks by light rebel screening elements. The federal response was predictable and ineffective – the defensive elements flushed their Ferrets, the main combatants decelerated into a defensive formation with the lightly armed and totally unarmored carriers in the center, and by the time they were ready to fight they had nothing to target.

  Finally, inevitably, when a small rain of missiles appeared, instead of the usual defensive maneuvers, the federal forces pushed a small force forward. The rebels were waiting and as their light screen fled, a much heavier force sent a storm of missiles into the destroyers and light cruisers, causing extensive damage. Once again, John wondered at the timid federal response – they had superior to highly superior forces, but were behaving as if they were numerically inferior.