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PHASE IV : THE LOKI ARC ( 60 of 66 )
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“ The Tiger Hunt ” |
"Rapidity is the essence of war:
take advantage of the enemy's unreadiness,
make your way by unexpected routes, and attack unguarded spots."
- Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Flight Wing Briefing Room, BWS Valeria
Loki VI Debris Field, Loki System
0800 Hours, 15 Feb 2681 (2681.046)
It is in adversity that we find out
what it is we're really made of. It's
never easy or pleasant to face danger, disappointment and loss, yet this is
a vital part of growing as individuals. It teaches us what we're capable of
and what our limits are. It teaches us how much we're capable of enduring
before we break, before we give up in despair and seek an easier path.
Adversity's the universe's way of testing us, its way of gauging if we can
really live up to all those bold claims we make in the bright light of day,
confidant in our own ability and immortality. It is a test that none of us
can avoid, one that none of us can fudge. A test that we must all face again
and again as we go through life. There are no grades, no penalties, no
rewards, just one stark verdict that no one can avoid facing in silences of
one's own soul. In the end, adversity gives each of us the answer to that
question that we all have: Am I good enough?
Just as adversity tests and teaches us, it also shapes and strengthens us. A
rose bush that is grown in the safety and comfort of a greenhouse cannot
survive outside one. Having never experienced winter's icy bite, it will
wither and die when it feels the first touch of frost. Iron that has never
felt the searing heat of the fire, the pounding blows of the blacksmith's
hammer, the shock of being quenched in ice cold water, is nothing more than
a useless lump of metal. It has no form, no edge, and no strength. It is
brittle, and will shatter the first time it is hit hard enough. To achieve
its full potential, to become the finest steel, it must first go through the
fiery hell of the forging. What is true of iron and roses is also true of
people. We all have within us the potential for greatness, be it in academia
or sport, in science or in music, the healing arts or the martial arts.
Those who have never struggled, never felt the pain of sacrifice and of
loss, can never reach that potential, for it's through adversity that this
potential is unlocked. Each time we face that test, we can either break or
we can endure. Those of us who endure find we can endure more the next time,
because that which doesn't kill us will only make us stronger. Adversity
teaches us our limits, but it also teaches us to push those limits. It
teaches us how to work harder, to reach higher, and to want it more than ever.
The Valkyries had faced their greatest adversity yet over the past few days.
Individually, the pilots and the crew of the ships had faced hardships and
dangers aplenty over the years they had spent on the frontlines. As a unit
though, this was the first time they had truly been pushed to the edge. Oh,
they had been tested before in the battle against the Nephilim, and tested
hard. Every test to date, whether the challenge of safeguarding the helpless
civilians on Tyr VII or the daunting task of rescuing the survivors of the
Bunker Hill from the bowels of a Nephilim Leviathan, they had met head-on.
With each challenge they had faced mastered, they had grown stronger and
more confident. This though, had been the ultimate test, the one that would
either make them or break them as a unit. With the Nephilim carriers
throwing everything that they had at the Border Worlders, this had been the
test that would let them know, once and for all, if they were really good
enough to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Confederation forces, or if
the Border Worlds military should simply contend itself with being a militia
for Confed like some people claimed. In end, it all came down to that old
question: Are we good enough?
That hadn't been the question they had been asking themselves, of course, as
they tried to weather the storm unleashed on them by the enemy carriers, but
it was the answer to that question they would be measured by all the same.
Their ability to out-think the enemy, to hide when they needed to hide, to
be found when they wanted to be found, to strike when and where they need to
strike, had tested their cunning to its limits. Their endurance had been
tested by three days with almost no sleep, spending hours upon hours in
their cockpits and at their battle stations, pushing their bodies and minds
to the wall. Their courage had been tested by the waves of fighters and
capital ships that the Nephilim had sent at them, while adrenaline and
exhaustion made them more receptive to the effects of fear, to the urge to
break and run, and to never look back. So had their ability to cope with
grief and pain, with the loss of hundreds of their comrades, many of them
good friends, ripped away from them in a matter of minutes. Every aspect of
their character, skill and training had been mercilessly examined, and they
had faced that examination with the sure knowledge that failing this test of
adversity would have seen them being ground up by the Nephilim, their ships
and bodies left shattered and broken in this desolate debris field.
And they had not been found wanting.
For sure, they had made mistakes, and they had taken their share of body
blows along the way, the worst of which by far had been the loss of the Littenia.
The cold hard, reality though, was that there had been very little
they could have done to prevent that loss. If they split up their fighters
to try and defend both carriers at once, they would have seen both carriers
being overwhelmed. Fight piecemeal and you will be defeated piecemeal; it
was as simple as that. As painful as that loss was, the bulk of their forces
had survived close to three days of concerted attention from three powerful
carrier groups, carriers whose fighters had outnumbered theirs by almost
five to one. They had made the Nephilim pay dearly for the losses they had
suffered, destroying close to 600 enemy fighters and a dozen capships over
the last few days. Far more importantly, they had kept the Nephilim carriers
busy attacking them, stripping them of vital fighter cover and leaving them
open to destruction by the rest of the human fleet. They had achieved the
task that Admiral Hanton had set them at the start of this operation. They
had done everything that could have been asked of them, and they had finally
answered that nagging question. They had amply proved their right to a place
alongside the best units in this or any other fleet.
The only thing that was left unresolved at this point was their own escape
from the debris field, and that was looking a lot brighter than it had just
a few hours ago. For the first time in three days, the pressure was off
them, and they had a chance to break loose. That was what this meeting of the
flight wing's senior officers was all about.
"Aright, let's get started," Raptor said as the last few pilots filed in.
There were a couple who wouldn't be making it to the briefing because their
squadrons were currently on patrol, watching for any sign of a major
Nephilim strike on them, as well as watching out for smaller sneak attacks.
The last few days had taught them all the need for constant vigilance.
"I've got some good news, and I've got some better news. The good news is
that two of the carrier groups that were harassing us are now down. The
TCS Endeavour and the 8th Cruiser Squadron were able to ambush and wipe out
one of the groups late yesterday, while their fighters were busy with us.
The reports from the Endeavour battle group are still being analyzed by
Intell, but from the accounts we received, their losses were fairly light, a
frigate from the Endeavour group plus a destroyer from the 8th, along
with 10 to 15 fighters either shot down or out of action.
"The capship squadrons that hit the second carrier group were also
successful in wiping it out, but their casualties were quite a bit heavier.
According to the reports that we have, they've 'only' lost a torpedo boat and
a destroyer, but they've also taken significant damage to a further two
torpedo boats, another destroyer, and the escort carrier BWS Defiance. The
That news brought nasty smiles to the faces of nearly all the pilots in the
room. The most frustrating thing about the game of cat and mouse they had
been playing with the enemy carriers over the last few days had been not
being able to hit back directly at the carriers that were hunting them. They
knew that what they had been doing was important, but simply absorbing the
capship assaults, fighter waves and sneak attacks that the carrier groups
had thrown at them had been hard to take. Knowing that the pilots they had
loaned to the
"The better news is that the Endeavour group has been closing in on the
position of the last Nephilim carrier. The Endeavour isn't close enough to
strike yet, but the fact that she's moving in has been enough to make
whoever is commanding that remaining carrier very nervous. According the
data from our SWACS and recon flights, the carrier group is beginning to pull
back from the edge of the debris field, which in turn takes a lot of the
pressure off us.
"Now, at this point in time, we have two options. The first is to keep
follow that carrier group, tie it down, and keep it busy until the Endeavour
can get close enough to launch her fighters and help us out in finishing the
battle group off. However, both Admiral Hanton and Captain Que feel that this
wouldn't be the best idea at present. Assuming that carrier and its escorts was
able to recover fighters that were engaging us when the other two carriers were
destroyed, the carrier group could have still have a three to one or four two
one advantage over us in fighter strength. In addition, our own pilots are
hardly in the best of shape for another all out battle, and the techs can use
all the extra time they can get to repair our fighters. Last but not least, once
we're out in the open, the carrier group could concentrate all its fighters on
us to one time, which in turn would ramp up our casualties massively. In short,
going after the carrier in our present state involves a hell of a lot a risk for
a much smaller gain.
"The second option, to fall back ourselves, is the smarter choice at the
moment. Given that we've already achieved our aim of dividing up and gutting
the Nephilim fleet, Admiral Hanton feels that there isn't any reason for us
to continue fighting a separate battle. We've done everything that we've set
out to do, and there's not much point in risking even heavier losses just
for the sake of bringing the battle to a quick finish. Instead, it's time
that we also pulled back and regrouped with first the Endeavour and then the
rest of the fleet. For the first time in this campaign, it's the Nephilim
who are pulling back, so we have the upper hand for now. That means that we
can choose when and where to finish this battle in the way that would
involve the least losses for us."
Raptor's smile matched the ones that had been on the faces of his pilots a few
minutes earlier. Border Worlders were downright vindictive towards those who
invaded their territory. "That doesn't mean, though, that we're not going to the
give the Nephilim one last kick in the nuts -- assuming Nephilim have nuts -- on
our way out, just so they have something to remember us by.
"The Nephilim had some of their capships acting as a backstop on the far
side of the debris field to stop us from slipping away from their attacks.
Most of those capships would have fallen back to join the carrier by now,
but our scouts have been tracking a cruiser which has fallen behind, along
with a couple of corvettes that are escorting it. Those three ships are
potentially close enough to intercept our ships as we exit the debris field.
Admiral Hanton wants those three ships and any fighter cover they might have
sanctioned with extreme prejudice. In addition to helping ensure that our own
carriers don't come under attack, it's a good way of cutting down the strength
of the remaining Nephilim fleet even further. Lastly, it will serve as a way of
tightening the psychological screws even further. We want to remind the Nephilim
just who has the upper hand now.
"The first priority will be to ensure that the Nephilim don't know that we're
targeting the cruiser. That'll avoid the cruiser either slipping off into the
debris field like we did, or being reinforced by fighters from the Nephilim
carrier group. Once again, the idea is wipe the target out quickly and
clinically, just like we did to the capships we attacked on the 13th, rather
than turning it into a drawn out battle. We've lost too many good people in this
battle already. In order to give us the element of surprise, we need to wipe out
any CAP or roving scouts that the Nephilim might have before they can sound the
alarm. We'll do that by using our Stalker jamming craft to scramble their
communications, along with our recon Arrows and Excaliburs to ambush them.
"Once we've opened up a corridor though their patrols, the Retaliators and
Bearcats will lead the strike, supported by the craft that were taking out the
patrols. They'll take on and destroy the fighter cover protecting the cruiser.
The fighter craft will be followed by the Dauntless' from Thor's Hammer Squadron
who will finish the job. Once the enemy ships are down, the strike package will
egress the target area and link up with the capships via an indirect route.
"In the meantime, the capships will be heading for the edge of the debris
field at best safe speed. The Intruders from Black Angel and White Knight
squadrons, along with the Banshees from Night Watch Squadron, will be flying
cover for them. The strike package will only be about 10 minutes flying time
at full afterburner from the capships at all times, so we can fall back to
assist if needed. By all accounts, that shouldn't be necessary, but there's
no sense in taking any needless risks."
The rest of the briefing took another hour, as the squadron leaders and
execs trashed out the details of the upcoming mission. This one certainly
wouldn't be as difficult as the battles they had fought the day before, but
that didn't mean they were taking it lightly. A little time spent on
planning could avoid a lot of bloodshed and heartbreak later on.
"One last thing before we go," Raptor said as the meeting wound up. "The
memorial services for those who were killed in this system will be held at
1400 Hours, after we're clear of the debris field. Let's do our best to
avoid adding to the list. Good luck and good hunting, all of you."
Recon Arrow 007 (Ghost Warrior lead)
Loki VI Debris Field,
1000 Hours, 15 Feb 2681 (2681.046)
Major Jameel "Paladin" Ul-Huq eased the flight stick of his cloaked recon
Arrow down and slightly to the left, pushing the fighter into a gentle
leftward spiral as he matched the movements of the Nephilim Moray-class
medium fighter he was trailing. The three other Arrows in his flight were
shadowing the remaining Morays in this patrol, while the two Excaliburs from
Taipan Squadron that were working with them trailed the trio of Manta-class
heavy fighters that were leading the patrol.
Normally, of course, the lightly armed recon Arrows wouldn't have been used
for this kind of combat duty. The recon Arrows and their highly trained
pilots specialized in information gathering, while ambushes from cloak were
left to the much more powerful Excaliburs. These weren't normal times,
however. The Taipans had been in the thick of the fighting to defend the
carriers, and had suffered heavily as a result. They had lost six fighters
in the last few days, leaving them with just eight operational fighters from
the eighteen they had when the battle to hold the line against the Nephilim
began. The Retaliator, Bearcat and Intruder units had been hit just as hard,
but they had been able to make up the losses by integrating the fighters
that had survived the destruction of the Littenia into Battle Group Valkyrie's own squadrons.
The Taipans hadn't been able to do that because the Littenia hadn't been
carrying Excaliburs. The Border Worlds military had held out for the full
spec Excalibur A, complete with reaper cannons, twelve missile slots,
autotracking ability and a cloaking device. As they had seen it, it didn't
make much sense to invest millions of credits in a fighter like the
Excalibur, and then try to save a few thousand credits by cutting corners
that seriously degraded the fighters' effectiveness. These fighters were much
more rare than the downgraded and non- cloak capable Excalibur D models used
by the Confed militia, and deliveries had been slow to get underway. As a
result, the Taipans had been one of the few units to get the fighters before
the Nephilim invasion.
What that in turn meant was that with all the losses they had taken
recently, there weren't enough Excaliburs to carry out this operation
effectively. For that reason, the Excalibur pilots had been teamed up with
the Ghost Warriors. The idea was that the Ghost Warriors would use the first
strike advantage given to them by their cloaks to quickly cut down the
number of enemy fighters with a missile strike. The Excaliburs could then
use their heavy firepower to take out any fighters that survived the initial
attack, supported by the Arrows.
The last element of the strike was provided by the two Stalker Electronic
Warfare craft that were accompanying the fighters. They couldn't risk the
Nephilim fighters getting off a signal before they were destroyed, as that
would alert the fighters aboard the cruiser, which in turn would mean that
the strike group would be flying into heavy opposition. The two Stalkers
would drop out of cloak at the same time fighters did, using their jamming
pods to scramble enemy communications, and hopefully keeping the cruiser in
the dark about what was going on.
Paladin shook his head slightly. The times, they sure are a changing, he
thought. It hadn't been that long ago that a Border Worlds force would
simply have rushed into any situation with all guns blazing, counting on
their traditional balls to the wall fighting style and a good measure of
luck to see them though. That approach though, would have seen them being
chewed up and spat out by an enemy that outnumbered and outgunned them as
thoroughly as the Nephilim did. The reason that Battle Group Valkyrie had not
only survived every situation it had faced, but had also inflicted heavy
losses on the enemy along the way, was that its senior officers had believed
in fighting smart as well as fighting hard, and had drummed that policy into
those under their command right from the start. The one thing they didn't
believe in was fighting fair, because there was nothing fair about war. The
way the Valkyries fought was by using every single advantage they had to
outfox the enemy. Recon capability, stealth, and Electronic Warfare all
played their part in letting them confuse and out-maneuver the enemy. That
in turn put the fighter and bomber pilots in a position where that old balls
to the wall style could be used with maximum effectiveness. From there, the
firepower of fighters like the Retaliators and Excaliburs and the ship
killing potential of the Dauntless bombers could be used to rip the enemy
wide open.
"Taipan One, in position," one of the Excalibur pilots radioed in, reporting
that he was in position to make a kill.
"Taipan Two, ready."
"Night Stalker One, ready."
Unlike the Arrows and Excaliburs, the Stalkers would uncloak well away from
the enemy fighters, using the broadcasting power of their jamming pods to
scramble the enemy systems, while keeping away from the dogfight. The
Stalkers had almost no dogfighting capability, as they were each only armed with
a single stormfire cannon for last ditch self defense. While they carried four missiles each, these weren't the standard anti-fighter
missiles, but specialized Blinder missiles that were used to disable a
warship's electronic systems. In short, they would be dead meat against even
a Moray, which was itself by no means a fearsome fighter craft. The pilots
of the Night Stalker Squadron were all well trained, and they had no
illusions about what their job was.
"Night Stalker Two, in position."
"Ghost Lead copies all," Paladin replied. As the commanding officer of the
Ghost Warriors, and the senior pilot in this flight, he would be the one coordinating the attack. "Ghost Flight, check in."
"Ghost Two, in position."
"Ghost Three, in position."
"Ghost Four, ready."
"Copy all. All craft, decloak and attack on three," Paladin said.
He took one last look at his weapons console to ensure that he was indeed
locked on to his target. The console showed two of the four heat-seeker
missiles under the Arrow's fuselage were armed and locked on the Moray in
front of him. Paladin would have preferred the more reliable image-rec
missiles, but then, so did most of his fellow pilots. The Valkyries had used up
most of their stock of image-recognition and friend-or-foe missiles in
the battles over the last few days, and those that remained had been
allocated to the Retaliators and Bearcats. As the Arrows could gain missile
lock while cloaked, the longer lock time of the heat-seekers and the fact
these missiles could only track from the rear quarter of the target was
considered less of a disadvantage.
"One... two... three!"
The shrieking howl of the cloaking devices cutting out filled the
pilots' headphones as the Border Worlds fighters dropped out of cloak right
on the sixes of their targets. The Valkyries had been using cloaked ambushes
often enough over the last couple of days for the Nephilim to have become
aware that the Border Worlders could evade their anti-cloak sensors, but
that didn't help this particular bunch of Nephilim pilots. Even when you
were aware of the possibility of cloaked attack, it was difficult to stay
constantly vigilant when you could see no sign of a threat, as a lot of
human pilots had discovered to their cost during the First Kilrathi War and the
Black Lance Incident. In that aspect at least, it seemed the Nephilim were
no different from humans, as these patrolling Bugs were taken by complete
surprise.
Paladin slammed his thumb down on the missile release as soon as the cloak
cut out completely. The small fighter shuddered as both warheads raced off
the rails with a roar that carried clearly through the metal of the hull to
his ears. Both missiles ran hot and true, leaving long trails of propellant
behind them that almost instantly froze into crystals in the icy vacuum.
The Nephilim pilot might have been taken by surprise, but there was no
faulting his reflexes. The Moray plunged downwards and then accelerated away
from the missiles, popping clouds of hot incendiary decoys to fool the
warheads. One of the missiles ignored the decoys and slammed into the aft of
the Moray, ripping apart the shields and gouging the armor, but not fatally
wounding the enemy fighter. The other missile took the bait, exploding
harmlessly against a decoy.
Paladin swore in frustration, the feeling not helped by the bright
explosions of other enemy fighters or the war whoops of the pilots who had
hit their mark. He punched the afterburners, accelerating after the Moray.
He knew the sensible thing to do would have been to cloak and reposition for
another missile attack, but he didn't want to expend his two remaining warheads
unnecessarily. The Recon Arrows carried only half the warload of
the Arrows that had flown in the Kilrathi War, with the remaining missile
stations being removed to make room for the cloak. Besides, he had a good
position on this Moray's six, and he wanted to kill now, not wait for
another opportunity. There were some things about Border Worlders that never
changed.
He hit the gun trigger, and the Arrow's battery of ion and laser cannons
spat out a stream of bolts at the target. The short but furious dogfight
that followed stretched both Paladin's skills and the Arrow's agility to the
limit as he fought to stay on his opponent's six long enough to chew through
the remaining armor. The Arrow's gun array, like that of most other light
fighters, wasn't devastating by any stretch of the imagination, and it took
several volleys to finish the job. Finally though, the Moray detonated in a
brilliant fireball.
Paladin quickly glanced at his radar. Most of the other Nephilim fighters
were down, the only survivor being a Manta that was even now receiving the
attention of both Excaliburs. The enemy fighter fireballed a few seconds
later as one of the Taipans forced it into the other pilot's gunsights, who
shredded the Manta with a long burst from the Excal's tachyon and reaper
cannons at point blank range. The Stalkers shut down their jamming pods and
faded back into cloak. The fighters followed seconds later, their job here
done. If the other groups ambushing the Nephilim patrols had as successful,
the corridor for the strike group to hit the cruiser should be wide open by
now.
Retaliator 001 (Reaper Lead)
Near The Edge Of The Debris Field
1105 Hours, 15 Feb 2681
Raptor took in a deep breath and blew it out slowly, clearing his mind of
all the concerns and thoughts that came with being the Valeria's Wing
Commander, and simply focusing on the situation at hand. The simple fact was
that at this point in time, he wasn't a Wing Commander anymore, just the
leader of this strike group. He had already done all the work of a Wing
Commander, made all the plans, given all the orders. Those plans and orders
were either being carried out or had already been carried out by other
people. Now, he had to focus on this one part of the operation, focus on
hitting that enemy cruiser hard and then get his people out safely.
The Retaliators were just inside the debris field, between the cruiser and
the rest of the Nephilim fleet. They were at full squadron strength, with
the losses the Reapers had taken being filled by the survivors of the Star
Killer Squadron, previously based on the Littenia. The Bearcats from
Harbinger Squadron lurked a few thousand klicks away, likewise at full
strength. The remaining handful of Dauntless bombers from Thor's Hammer
Squadron were a few thousand klicks further back. The bombers weren't
undefended however. The fighters and EW craft that had been opening up the
corridor had rendezvoused with them, and would cover them for the rest of
the mission.
Thanks to the actions of the Arrows and Excaliburs, the strike group had
been able to penetrate this far without being detected. The Nephilim cruiser
and its corvette escorts were now a little over 100,000 klicks away, and
were headed towards the strike group as they skirted the debris field on
their way back towards the surviving Nephilim carrier. There were three
Stalkers shadowing the cruiser, and they would warn the Border Worlders once
the cruiser or any of its defending fighters were approaching sensor range.
At that point, the Retaliators and Bearcats would burst out of the debris
field and accelerate towards the enemy, using the element of surprise to
overwhelm any fighter cover the cruiser had. The bombers and their escorts
would follow right behind to finish the job.
The warning from the Stalkers came through about 15 minutes later. Just
before the cruiser was close enough for its sensors to pick up the Border
Worlds strike group, the Stalkers played one final card. All three
decloaked, one targeting the cruiser while the others each picked a
corvette, and each launched a Blinder missile. The Blinder was similar to a
leach missile in that it could punch through shield defenses and attach
itself to the target's hull. Instead of draining energy though, the Blinders
fed energy into the target, in the form of powerful electronic "noise" that
scrambled the capship's scanners and radars, leaving the target effectively
blind. That in turn kept the Nephilim in the dark for few more vital seconds.
At the same time, Retaliators and Bearcats hurtled towards the Nephilim on
full afterburner, their powerful engines devouring the distance between them
and their target. There were about a dozen fighters, mostly Morays, orbiting
the cruiser, and these broke away to intercept the Border Worlders as their
own sensors picked up the incoming fighters. They were outnumbered three to
one though, and the unexpected attack had left them disoriented and disorganized. They had no chance against the brutal firepower of the
Retaliators and Bearcats. The Border Worlds pilots simply gang banged them,
burning most of them down in the first pass.
The Retaliators blew straight past the survivors, leaving them to the
Bearcats. Their target now was the cruiser. The cruiser could still have a
couple of dozen fighters in its launch bays, and the Border Worlders had no
wish to meet them in a fair fight if they could help it. Fairness was
something that belonged on the cricket field, not the battlefield. Light
torpedoes launched by two of the Retaliators shattered the cruiser's
launchers, entombing any remaining fighters inside the warship.
With the fighter cover neutralized, the Border Worlds fighters began
blasting away the cruiser's turrets. By now, the bombers had reached the
enemy group. A few minutes later, torpedo volleys ripped the cruiser apart,
while concentrated gunfire did for the two corvettes.
The entire operation had accounted for over three dozen enemy fighters (not
counting any that might have been on the cruiser) along with the three
warships. The cost to the Border Worlders had been the loss of four craft,
one Bearcat, two Arrows and a Stalker. The losses hadn't been as light as
they had hoped, especially on top of the 80 odd craft they had lost already,
but on balance, it had been a successful operation.
Flight Deck, BWS
Valeria
Loki System, Just Outside The Debris Field
1400 Hours, 15 Feb 2681 (2681.046)
By now the Valeria, Freedom, and their escorts, including the surviving
destroyers from the Littenia battle
group, had
cleared the edge of the debris
field, putting the ruins of Loki VI between them and the surviving enemy
carrier group. The feeling of relief among the pilots and crews at being
away from the ruins was almost palpable. The debris field had played a vital
role in their survival to date, helping them evade their hunters and
allowing them to strike back at the enemy through ambushes and hit-and-run
attacks. For all that though, the Border Worlders were uncomfortably aware
of just how close they had come to dying in that desolate place. They had
faced their greatest test and survived it there, but none of them had any
wish to linger.
Right now, the flight deck was the quietest it had been for a long time.
Over the last three days, the flight deck had been almost constantly active,
either launching fighters on seemingly endless recon missions, patrols and
scrambles, or recovering them as they came back. There had been several
times when the deck had reverberated with both the scream of entire flights
of fighters racing off the forward end of the deck on full afterburner, and
the thuds of several other fighter craft slamming down on to the aft end of
the deck at full speed. Such doubling up was highly dangerous, as it
massively increased the chances of collisions. Just one cold launch or an
overshoot on landing could not only have wiped out dozens of pilots and deck
crew, but could have put the carrier itself out of action. As a result, the
practice was rare even in the devil-may-care Border Worlds military (and almost
unheard of in the militaries of other nations, for which those nations were
profoundly grateful) but the pressure of operations had left them with
little choice.
At the moment though, all the fighters from the strike had been recovered.
The units that were scheduled to pull patrol and CAP duty had been launched,
and the Ghost Warriors had been sent out again to track down that remaining
enemy carrier group, with orders to asses its strength and offensive
capability, and make sure that it wasn't about to make some last ditch
attempt to wipe out the Valkyries. After launching those craft, the Valeria
had shut down flight operations for an hour to allow the pilots and crews to
remember those who hadn't been lucky enough survive the brutal battle that
had been fought in the debris field.
That didn't mean that they weren't prepared to respond to any attack that
might be forthcoming. The last three days had raised paranoia to an art form
among both the commanders and the ordinary crews of the battle
group, and
they weren't quite ready to relax yet. The fighter craft had been re-armed
and refueled after the strike, and now waited in their launch and dispersal
slots, ready to scream off the deck in a matter of minutes if needed. The
Harbinger and Black Angel squadrons waited at five minute alert on board the
Freedom and the escorting capships respectively. If there was any trouble,
they would launch and join the CAP and patrol fighters in holding off the
enemy long enough for the Valeria to get her fighters up.
Apart from the pilots who were engaged in keeping the battle
group safe,
and
the crew who had to remain at duty stations, virtually everyone else on the Valeria was on the flight deck, as were dozens of people from the
Freedom
and the other warships. Pilots and Navy crew stood shoulder to shoulder with
Marines, officers with enlisted crew, all there to remember the comrades and
friends who had fallen in the line of duty. The Border Worlds military,
being a smaller community than many other militaries, was closely knit as a
result. Virtually everyone in the battle
group had
lost someone they had known in this battle. There simply hadn't been time to
mourn earlier, and
the funeral served as a collective catharsis for the feelings they had been
forced to keep bottled up until now.
Even so, Admiral Hanton couldn't help worrying about the long term effects
on her crew as she surveyed the faces of the people gathered before her.
Their thoughts were clearly with their dead friends, but there was a
hardness to their features that she had seen all too often in this campaign.
Border Worlders prided themselves on remaining strong in the face of both
physical and emotional hardship, on responding to loss and grief with
defiance instead of despair. It was the same attitude that Australians and
Kiwis back on Earth called staying staunch and the British called keeping
a stiff upper lip. In the short term, while the fighting lasted, it was a
useful response, as it kept them focused on the enemy, focused on winning
rather than thinking about what they had lost. The Admiral knew, though, that
grief couldn't be dealt with and dismissed that easily. There would be a
price to pay for it in the months and years to come, and both these people
and their families would have to deal with that. War left many scars, and
the worst ones often weren't the visible ones.
There was nothing the Admiral could so about that, though. All she could do
was help them come to terms with the loss of their friends as best she could
in the short time they had to mourn, and count on their resilience to see
them through. Damn this war, she said to herself, and then cleared her
throat and began speaking, trying to find the words that would express what
her crew was feeling.
CONT...