Purge of Prometheus (35 page)

“Entering the atmosphere,” the radio called as Alcent’s craft passed beyond the gloomy clouds that encircled the planet.

“Prepare for atmosphere burn,” Keryn called to her own bridge crew, which included Adam and a couple of Avalons she didn’t know.

The ship shook as the forward displays turned red from friction.
 
The blockish transports caused such heavy gravities as they passed through the atmosphere that even the inhibitors couldn’t compensate.
 
Keryn groaned as she felt the pressure on her chest as the weight pushed downward on her broken rib.
 
Shortly after, however, the transport broke through the atmosphere and the starlit void of space dominated the view screen.
 
Keryn couldn’t hide her smile as she looked upon the view.
 
She had almost forgotten how much she loved the freedom of space travel.
 
Glancing to her right, she saw the same exhilaration mirrored on Adam’s face.

As Keryn turned the transport and began following Alcent, another view dominated the screen: the Terran Destroyer.
 
The smile quickly faded from Keryn’s face as she saw the countless missile ports and rail guns bristling along the elongated ship.

“Sending access codes,” the radio said.
 
Almost as an afterthought, Alcent added, “Wish us luck.”
 
He left the communications channel open as he sent the codes, and Siros’ voice rang over the radio.
 
“
Ballistae
, this is transport vessels AX-04 and AX-05 requesting immediate docking.
 
We’re carrying countless wounded from Miller’s Glen that require immediate medical aid.
 
I am forwarding the access codes for our vessels.”

The crews of both ships held their combined breath as the seconds ticked by and the Destroyer grew ever closer.
 
She was close enough to see the dark black letters of the word
Ballistae
on the hull of the ship before they finally got their answer.
 
On the port side of the ship, a hangar bay hatch slid open, inviting both transports.

As the two ships entered the side of the Terran Destroyer, Keryn turned to Adam.
 
“Let’s go claim our prize.”

CHAPTER 26:

“Spin number two,” Warrant Iana Morven yelled to the fighter pilot as she stood in front of the craft.
 
The second of the two automatic weapons spun without its ammunition loaded, an audible whir filling the cubicle in which the fighter sat.

Iana flashed the thumbs up.
 
“Looks good.
 
Go ahead and power her down.”

Turning, she ran headlong into Yen, who had been standing behind her with his arms folded behind him.
 
Stepping back, she braced in a quick salute, which he returned before a wide grin broke across his face.

“You really are a jerk,” she said, playfully punching him in the arm.
 
“You could have warned me that you were there.”

“And miss out on that irritated expression?” he replied.
 
“Not in a million years.”

The Uligart pilot left the fighter and walked up beside Iana, laughing to himself.
 
Reaching out his hand, he shook Yen’s, nodding in respect to the senior officer.

“And you could have warned me too, Gregario,” she said, punching him as well.

“He told me not to,” answered Warrant Pelasi, gesturing toward the Squadron Commander.
 
“You don’t really expect me to disobey a direct order, do you?”

“Men,” she grumbled to herself as the trio stepped away from the fighter and walked through the cavernous hangar bar.

“How are the ships looking?” Yen asked as they passed a line of the dart-like
Duun
fighters.

“They’re immaculate,” Iana responded, “just as they always are.
 
You wouldn’t have expected any less after ordering me to do another inspection, would you?”

Yen shook his head as the trio stopped.
 
He watched as one of the lifters loaded crates of ammunition into the back of one of the
Cair
personnel carriers.
 
Large enough for an assault team, the
Cair
transports were some of the most instrumental ships in the Squadron.
 
Yen, however, still found pleasure in flying one of the more heavily armed
Duun
fighters.

“Do we have enough ammunition and fuel to sustain a multiple-staged assault on the Terran Fleet?” he asked, running through a checklist of questions in his mind.

“Yes, sir,” Iana said.
 
“Current storehouses of supplies will allow us to conduct three or four prolonged maneuvers in deep space.”

“Good, good,” Yen replied absently.
 
He had barely heard the response, focusing instead on the complex tactical formations he was planning for their first attack on the Terran vanguard.

“Sir, if I may,” Gregario interrupted.
 
“You wouldn’t have us conduct such a thorough refit of all the ships unless we were finally ready to engage the enemy.
 
Am I completely off base?”

“You’re not wrong, Gregario,” he said, turning toward the Uligart.

“With all do respect, it’s about damn time.”

Yen smiled and shook his head, disapprovingly.
 
“You’re too enthusiastic for your own good,” he replied, cuffing Warrant Pelasi across the back of the neck.
 
“Don’t let your trigger finger get in the way of your common sense.”

Gregario leaned closer to Iana.
 
“Does the Squadron Commander really think we forgot about his application of common sense during the Earth invasion?
 
I’m not quite sure where dropping a world landmark on top of an opponent falls into the family of common sense, but I’m guessing it’s somewhere around creepy uncle status.”

“Or maybe kissing cousin,” Iana helpfully added.

“Maybe you both would like to discuss genealogy while scrubbing debris from the hull of the ship?” Yen offered.
 
“Seriously, though, I need you both focused.
 
You’re two of my best pilots and we’re going to need all your skill over the next few engagements.”

“We joke, sir,” Iana replied, “but we’ve been preparing for this ever since we left Earth.
 
We’re ready to kill Terrans.”
 
She put her hand in between the three pilots.

“Kill Terrans dead,” Gregario said, adding his hand to hers.

“Deader than shit,” Yen finished, placing his hand on top.
 
He squeezed both their hands before pulling his away and becoming serious once more.
 
“I need you both to make sure we get all the ships inspected, fueled, and loaded with as much ammunition as they can hold.
 
In the
Cairs
, if the space is not going to be taken by a warm body, I want extra ammunition loaded instead.
 
Believe me when I tell you that we’re going to need everything we’ve got to win the rest of this war.”

“But we’re going to win, right?” Iana said, her eyebrows arched inquisitively.

“I made the plan,” he replied, smiling disarmingly.
 
“Of course we’re going to win.
 
Finish up here and get the rest of the pilots together.
 
Can you have everything finished and ready in the next four hours?”

“Leave it to me, sir,” Gregario said, stepping forward.
 
“I’ll get these pathetic pilot slugs moving.
 
We’ll be ready in four.”

“Good, then get the pilots together and meet me in the mission analysis room in four hours.”

Both pilots braced in salute as Yen exited the hangar.

Nearly a hundred and fifty pilots sat and stood around the spacious analysis room.
 
Their combined conversations echoed throughout the vaulted ceiling, turning their voices into the roar of waves crashing against the rocks; their individual conversations disappeared in the din.

Iana sat in the front along with Gregario and another group of older pilots, some of whom wore the black blazoned on their grey uniforms signifying them as
Duun
pilots while others wore the Yellow of the
Cair
ships.
 
Still others, though few within the room, wore the vibrant green of the resupply vessels and even fewer wore the stark tan of the weapons platforms.
 
Built as simple control bridges surrounded by a dozen plasma missile tubes, the weapons platforms launch massive salvos of missiles, the individual rockets of which could be picked up remotely by the
Duun
ships and directed through their computers toward the target.
 
The maneuverability of the
Duun
fighters allowed greater flexibility for the rockets and lessened the chance of them being shot down before reaching the intended enemy ship.

As Yen entered the room, the roar quieted, all pilots eagerly awaiting the briefing of what was to come.
 
He took his place at the front of the room and remotely dimmed the lights.
 
A spotlight lit the podium and screen behind him.

“Welcome,
Revolution
Squadron,” he said as he flipped through the notes on the podium before him.
 
Looking up, he continued.
 
“I originally had a pretty speech prepared that discussed your feelings and the stressors you would experience over the next few days as we accelerated toward the ambush site.”

The room erupted into a combination of boos, hisses, and laughter.

“However,” Yen continued, motioning for everyone to quiet down again, “I realized my speech sounded a little too much like one of Captain Hodge’s touchy-feely speeches, so I trashed it and went a different route.”

Yen pressed a button on the podium and the screen came to life behind him.
 
Depicted in three dimensions was a view of the typical Terran Destroyer, its hull glistening under the spotlight.

“We’ll be engaging a difficult enemy.
 
We’re expecting approximately twenty-two Terran Destroyers to be entering the system only shortly after we do.
 
The Destroyers possess a dozen forward plasma launchers and twenty forward rail guns.
 
If you do the math, that means our fighters will be flying through a barrage of over two hundred and fifty missiles and nearly five hundred metal slugs.
 
To complicate matters further, they carry nearly the same number of fighters that our ships do.
 
That means that when we get into the thick of battle, there will be literally thousands of fighters weaving and firing into the space between the larger ships.”

Yen paused, letting the immensity of what they were to face completely sink in with the young pilots.
 
Many of his pilots were new, having replaced those who were killed during the attack on the invading Terran ships nearly a year ago.
 
They didn’t see action on Earth, meaning that their combat experience was entirely simulated during training at the Academy.
 
The fear in their eyes was apparent as he continued.

“Keep the sheer enormity of our upcoming conflict in the back of your mind while I continue.”

Pressing a button, the image shifted to the display of the galaxy, very similar to what he and Captain Hodge had used to war game earlier.

“We will be arriving in the galaxy only shortly before the Terran Fleet.
 
It won’t leave a lot of time for decision making once we begin deceleration, so pay close attention.
 
Once we enter the system, our Cruisers will split into four groups and maneuver toward one of these four gas giants.
 
We are going to enter into the gas giants and use them as the launching point for the ambush.
 
Terran sensors will not be able to penetrate the charged clouds of the gas giant, making the Alliance Fleet virtually invisible.”

Yen could see a number of hands raised throughout the room, but he ignored them as he continued.

“Once the Cruisers are in position, the fighters will deploy and take up positions around their vessels.
 
Short distance communications will still be effective, so we’ll be able to maintain contact while inside the atmosphere of the planet.
 
When we get the signal that the Terrans have entered the galaxy, the Cruisers will exit the planet and engage with salvos.
 
The element of surprise will be with us, with the Terrans not even having time to deploy their fighters before the missiles are on their way.
 

“At that time, Teams One through Five will form up in spear formations and engage enemy fighters.
 
Team Six and Seven will pick up missiles fired from the weapons platforms and begin maneuvering toward the enemy Destroyers.
 
Cair
Teams will be in reserve until the enemy ships have been breached and we’re ready for assault teams.”

Yen turned off the monitor behind him and looked at the multitude of raised hands.
 
“Listen, nothing I’ve told you about the tactics of our Squadron is unique.
 
These are tactics taught to every one of you in the Academy.
 
The truth is, I thought about trying new strategies, but we just don’t have the time.
 
The success of this mission will rely entirely on each of you being able to think on your feet and how well you can dodge enemy fire.
 
Now, let’s get to questions.”