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F-709A Jackal 101
The Canés Venatici Galaxy
The Delta Agnes System, Sector Alpha Tango Theta
2132 Hours (CST)
They had their mission, their duty. The odds were stacked against them a hundredfold; the enemy was powerful. There might not be any going home.
It was up to Jared to make sure there would be. He had to see things through.
He’d never had much of a life. Born in Los Angeles, California on Earth, he was an only child that had been brought up a spoiled brat in a middle-class household. White trash. A lonely, miserable child, but a spoiled brat just the same. His parents never thought much of him, which made his childhood that much more unbearable. In Terran schools he’d constantly get in fights, and was flunking clear through the day he dropped out. Eighteen years of hell. After being kicked out by his parents, he’d spent some time in an Earthbound pirate gang of thieves and junkies. When things fell apart there, he’d gotten his priorities straight and found refuge when he booked himself passage to the Sirius System, his sights set on the TCNSA Academy on Hilthros. He told himself it was to escape his past, but it was more. He joined in the hope that he could make a name for himself in the Confederation Space Force. His Academy and Flight School scores and ratings earned him the Amadaeus, and the Amadaeus’ Andromedan voyage won him fame, but only as a media and tabloid figurehead. It was recognition and respect he lacked, and he had sought his whole life to achieve just that.
Damn it, this was his chance. His chance to prove that he was the man he always hoped he was inside. His chance to prove it to the Confederation, his family, and even himself.
The mission would be a success or he wouldn’t be going home. Even if Tierson ordered a retreat. He’d pass this trial by fire or go out in a blaze of glory. This was his one chance, and he dare not screw up.
"All right, enough fucking around," Jared piped. He keyed on the comm. "Intensive firepower on those pyramid generators. If one of those Marauders fires a capship killer at the Phlegethon, drop what you’re doing and neutralize it."
Avoiding a drone ship engaging his wingman, Zephyr, Jared pulled his Jackal into a tight vector toward the lead Marauder. Locked on the pyramid generator. Readied his weapons. Targeted a torpedo on-target.
"CEASE YOUR DEFIANCE IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT MAKE VINDICATION ANY MORE DIFFICULT THAN NEED BE. TO DEFY THE PURPOSE IS TO INVITE SUFFERING."
"Go fuck yourself, shitface!" Jared spat, punching the comm. He’d heard enough of the Steltek’s charming remarks.
As if in response, the lead Marauder’s pyramid flashed, then let loose a ball of green, concentrated plasma. It was going nearly to fast to track with the eye, but was being shot at a vector just above Jared’s ship.
Going on pure reflex, Jared retargeted his torpedo at the projectile and fired. Not being given the time for a lock, it fired forth as a dumbfire.
"Yes!" Jared whooped, watching the capship killer dissipate into harmless particles.
"Thanks for the save, Devilbane," came the polite female voice of the Phlegethon comm officer. "Nice shot." Jared decided he really would have to look her up.
Back in offensive mode, Jared continued toward his target. "Keep an eye out for those capship killers!" he broadcasted to Red and Green squadron, as well as the quartet of new squadrons just joining the fray. "They don’t leave a very large margin for error."
Just under 3,000 klicks now. Time to get nervous.
Jared watched a wing of "Pyrethines" Squadron’s F/A-905C Nexus fighters make a run and take a shot at the pyramid of the same Marauder he’d targeted. They let loose two torpedoes, following up their salvos with flurries of heavy energy fire. Every shot was absorbed without incident by the Marauder’s shields. The bubble-like forcefield did little but give off a mild flicker as the torpedoes struck their target. The fighters then veered off, starting another run.
After the invasion two years before, it had been somewhat assumed, if argued, that Marauders were strangely not equipped with energy shielding or that if they were, it was very weak energy shielding. Blair had managed to do considerable damage to the pyramid of the original Marauder on lasers and projectiles alone before his self-detonated Nuke’em destroyed the whole vessel. Perhaps that Marauder simply had its shields destroyed after being under the concentrated firepower of the entire Confed Armada, or the Steltek on that vessel didn’t think shields would be necessary for victory. Without having to sustain shields, the vessel could divert all of its power to weapons and the task of annihilating the Armada, which would explain why it could fire those capship killer blasts in such quick succession.
The three Marauders they now faced, though shielded and shielded well, were not firing capship killers fast. No, the Steltek had now sacrificed rapid fire for virtual invulnerability. It was still a damn good trade, in Jared’s opinion.
Jared swallowed. It was his turn now.
"Attention all fighter wings," a deep male voice spoke over the comm. Definately not the comm officer. "New orders from Commodore Tierson."
This ought to be good, Jared mused.
"Maintain partial defensive grid to stop capship killers, but do what you can to lure the Steltek Marauders into the nebulae. Repeat, do what you can to lure the Steltek Marauders into the nebulae." The man signed off then, leaving the squadrons to their vague task.
Lure them into the nebulae? What the hell good is that going to do?
Nevertheless, orders were orders, whether Major Jared Davidsen understood them or not. Still, it would not be an easy task. The Steltek, though not very good conversationalists, were far from stupid. Why would they break off from an offensive on the most formidable ship the Confederation had to offer to chase a few stray fighters when their drone ships could do it themselves?
Jared had a couple ideas, but neither sounded too promising.
"Hey, assholes," he spoke into the comm, keying up the Steltek Marauders. "My pals and I are going to go drop a few warheads over the planets in the next system. Big warheads. Planet killers." His empty boast assumed there were Steltek homeworlds in Gamma Onisis. The star charts indicated there were planets within the system, quite possibly M-class. It was worth a try. "Better quick jerking off and nail us before we get there."
He’d left his comm open to all other squadrons. He hoped they understood. Just to be sure, he spoke to the wings, "Follow my lead, people. Time to play cat and mouse."
"HEATHENS, YOU ARE NO THREAT TO THE STELTEK. YOUR RACE WILL BE VINDICATED FROM THE GALAXY YOU HAVE SO PROFANED, BUT KNOW THAT WE ARE NOT WITHOUT MERCY. SURRENDER YOUR SHIPS AND WE PROMISE YOU PEACEFUL EXILE."
Was the Steltek speaking worried? "Yeah, whatever," he replied. "Your planets are still toast."
Aborting his run of the Marauder, Jared afterburned straight for the nebulae, whizzing over the pyramid of his former target.
Zephyr was coming up on his wing, and his HUD showed Overkill leading most of "Tarantula" Squadron toward the nebulae as well. The rest of the squads were keeping the swarm of drone ships busy, and doing a pretty good job of it with the help of the Phlegethon’s array of Macrofusion Turrets.
Less than a minute elapsing, Jared reached and entered the nebulae. His cockpit instantly became enveloped in the bright pink of the spatial phenomena, obscuring and blurring his view of the other fighters that were taking his lead.
Cycling through his VDU, he brought up the lead Marauder. Surprisingly, it was already in the process of turning around. Taking that as a good sign, he pressed on into the nebulae.
After a few minutes, the last Marauder slipped into the nebulae.
Busy dodging the fire of the horde of drone ships that had decided to follow them in as well, Jared almost didn’t notice the voice on his comm.
"Atte... wings... ge...of the...soon...ackn...edge."
The damn nebulae was interfering with medium-range communications. He banked his Jackal hard to port to avoid a drone ship blast, then spoke, "Come again, Phlegethon!"
"G... out of the... ebulae as soon a..."
Sounded like the Phlegethon wanted them to get out of the nebulae, and now. "Everybody out of the nebulae ASAP! Hit the afterburners!"
Jared obeyed, afterburning all the way out. As he burst free of the nebulae, the infinite pink he’d been gazing at the last few minutes returned to the welcome black of normal space.
When the last fighter cleared the nebulae, already the lead Marauder was edging its way back out. Given another few seconds, it would be clear.
Unfortunately for the Marauders, they didn’t have a few seconds.
A small explosion set off near the edge of the nebulae. The nebulae immediately ignited in a brilliant flash and a crescendo of colors. It was like watching the birth of a star, or a star going nova. As its cloudy tendrils were set off, the pink cloud mass grew a fiery shade of blood red. There were blasts over varying portions of the nebulae, each one beginning a subsequent chain reaction that spread to new portions, culminating in tremendous bursts of incandescent light.
In just a few minutes, nearly an entire star system’s worth of space would be blazing as bright as the heavens.
The three Steltek Marauders were caught in the middle of it.
Jared laughed out loud.
TCS Phlegethon;
Bridge
2155 Hours (CST)
"Tierson, you old devil! You had us lure them into a trap!"
Commodore Tierson permitted himself a tight smile as he listened to Davidsen. On the viewports, magnified, was the continuing devastation of the nebulae. The three Marauders were trapped like pigs in an oven. Even their seemingly impervious shields buckled under the relentless radiation onslaught. The shields vaporized, and their hull was eaten through like so much paper.
Then, without further fanfare, they gave in. One after the other the three Marauders imploded, a white hot ball of anti-matter marking their places through the quickly dying nebulae.
His plan had succeeded, and succeeded marvelously. The thermite-charged probe he’d ordered launched into the face of the nebulae, one packing the megatonnage of a hefty thermonuclear warhead, had its desired effect, and he had three Marauder kills to show for it.
Over and done with, at least for the time being. There was no denying that there could very well be more Marauders—or even fiercer classes of spacecraft—out there.
The Phlegethon wasn’t going to be sticking around to find out.
"Live and learn, Davidsen," Tierson spoke to the wing commander. "When an opportunity presents itself, you know you damn well better seize it."
"Got that right, sir! Remind me to buy you a drink."
"Certainly."
Tierson chuckled, then turned a glance on his senior comm officer. "I trust the Gamma Onisis scans are complete?"
The young woman smiled broadly. "Affirmative, sir."
"Then tell our boys to come home. Make the S-Fold jump to Sol Sector at the earliest convenience."
"Yessir."
In the moments afterward, resolutely, Tierson stood and approached the viewports. He got a closer look at the display of fiery destruction he had wrought. "Got them for you, Michael. Rest in peace, Brother."
TCS Phlegethon;
Bridge
Arrival
The Milky Way Galaxy
The Sol System, Terra Quadrant, Sol Sector
2249 Hours (CST)
"My quarters in half an hour, right?"
The Comm Officer blushed, a smile crossing the young woman’s lips. He at last found out the mysterious woman’s name: Nicole Hartway. "I’ll be there, Major."
"Please, Jared," he insisted.
Leaving the attractive young woman to her duties, Jared walked up to the Commodore. Absently, he realized he was still carrying his flight helmet.
As Jared rounded the command chair, Sol Station and Earth itself came into view. The InSys fleet of varying classes of carriers and destroyers could be seen going about their routine patrols.
Home.
"You did good out there, Davidsen."
Jared looked to Tierson. He was sitting on his command chair with Commander Gelhart, his face looking burdened as his gazed focused out the viewports. "Yessir. But we couldn’t have done it without you."
Tierson grunted. "Maybe so. But you still did a damn fine job."
"The Phlegethon has passed its trial by fire."
The Commodore nodded in agreement, but he still looked burdened. "Certainly has. She’s still in one piece, isn’t she?"
Jared stepped closer. "You’re thinking about your brother, aren’t you?"
Tierson’s eyes widened defensively as he turned to Jared. He held the wing commander’s gaze for a few moments, then peered back out the viewports. He nodded solemnly. "Space Marshal Michael Tierson. Went down with the TCS Enforcer two years ago in the last Steltek engagement."
"You must have been close."
"Close? Not really." Tierson sighed. "I was always in his shadow, and I hated him for it. When he died, I was chosen as the commander of this vessel because of him. Because I was his brother."
Jared shrugged. "Never had any brothers or sisters, myself. But whether we knew it or not, you and I both came into this because we wanted to prove ourselves."
"Oh?"
"I wanted to prove myself to Confed, my family, and even myself. That, after a lifetime of being no one, I could be a man; a hero. You, Commodore, wanted to prove to yourself and the galaxy once and for all that you are no longer living in your brother’s shadow. That you, Mason Tierson, can be a hero, too."
Tierson’s weary eyes glanced over Jared once more. After a pause, he reached up laid a steady hand on his shoulder. "You... you’re a good man, Davidsen."
"And we’ve proved it all, sir. Both of us have."
"We’re cleared for docking and debriefing at Sol Station, sir!" Nicole reported.
"Understood." Tierson tugged on his shirt and settled into his chair. He looked back to Jared, speaking in a softer tone than usually would be heard from the older officer, "Ready to receive a hero’s welcome, Davidsen? I know I’d better enjoy it. I’ll be writing reports for at least a month."
"Ready when you are, sir."
"Dismissed."
The two men exchanged a salute, and then Jared started for the turbolift. He slowed as something came to him, then stopped. "Sir?"
"Hmmm?"
"This ship really is an amazing piece of work."
Tierson grinned. "Goddamn right she is, son."
Jared cheerfully saluted again, then continued to the turbolift.
For the first time in a long time, Jared was looking forward to tomorrow.
F I N I S