Chapter 5 Part 5

He met his crew as they were emerging from their apartment. Blackjack did not really expect them to disregard the bosun, but he did want them to be on time. That was the main reason for going after them.

Longshot had wet hair and the back of his flight suit was damp. Apparently he had been working out and did not spend enough time drying after an abbreviated shower. Roulette was still eating the last bit of a food bar and there were crumbs on his face. As always, there was not a thing that could be found incorrect on Lady Luck's attire. They fell in with Blackjack as they made their way towards the briefing room. Along the way, the other four VRAD crews joined them.

"Any idea what is going on?" Blackjack asked of the squadron commander.
Major "Specter" Duncan was dressed in his spotless black flight suit. His crew were similarly dressed. Their VRAD, the Wraith was the Wildcard's sister ship and the two crews were like night and day. The command Wraith's crew was by the book perfect with ice cold nerves and razor sharp reflexes. The Wildcard's crew was a mixture of opposites. They were laid back and took almost nothing serious.

"You know about as much as I do," Spectre said.

They turned a corner and filed into the flight briefing room. Seventy seats were in the process of being occupied. Fifty of those seats were in five rows of ten and evenly spaced. Those were the jocks seats. Behind them two rows of ten seats were set slightly up on a dias so that their occupants could see over the fighter pilots' heads. The VRAD crews seated themselves there.

After a few long moments of low mutterings, the lights dimmed and a lone individual stepped to a podium in one corner flanking a large view screen.

"Good morning men." Colonel Alexander Pharr of the 72nd Lightning Vipers, the Andromeda's fighter/bomber wing, began the briefing in his usual steely voice. It was a voice that could set raw nerves afire, a voice that could not be tuned out no matter how sleepy of bored the listener was.

"I am sorry for having to interrupt your routine activities, but we have just gotten word form SDC Command at Aries Station to go on full alert." A collection of stunned faces could be seen and a few gasps were heard about the room.

The colonel waited until the noise had again ceased before continuing. "I have been given an assignment and Commodore Becker's staff and I have spent the last three hours planning an operation of serious dimensions."

Colonel Pharr yielded the podium to Commodore Becker, the Andromeda's commanding officer. The commodore's voice was a soft droning sound not much more than a whisper. "The Syndicate has established a military operation in the Trojan asteroid field ahead of Jupiter," he told them. "From that location, they have made at least three strikes against Market assets. The tragedy on Luna you heard about was one of them."

That piece of news sent a rapid muttering through the audience. They had heard the new casts, but had been told that it had been a freak natural disaster.

"Most recently a second attack took out the new tracking facility on Mars, and a third attack on Terra was only barely intercepted." The commodore activated the large view screen and a chart of their part of the solar system was displayed.

"The probe that we launched earlier was destroyed at this location," he continued as he marked the point of destruction on the chart. "We got enough intelligence data to learn that they have constructed and manned one of their Barracuda class star carriers with supporting battle craft. We could not get anymore as the probe was quickly destroyed by a massive particle cannon operating in the petawatt range."

There was a low whistle of hopelessness from somewhere in the midst of the pilots. The sentiment was universal as the grim faces of many of the veterans showed. "Even though we are without our battle group for support," the commodore went on, "we are the only Market unit within immediate striking range of the outpost."

None of the listeners liked where the briefing was going, but they had little choice. The commodore revealed their fears. "We have been ordered to strike the Syndicate outpost, and destroy the mass driver that they are using to shoot asteroids at our families, and if possible, destroy as much of their collateral as we can."

"Sir?" Lt. Colonel Vincent Farland, senior pilot of the Vipers, interrupted. "After destroying our probe, they must surely know that we are coming, and it will take almost a week for us to get within striking range. They will be waiting on us with their defenses at full alert. How can we hope to get through all that without our battle group?"

"The Whirlpool's battle group is running their reactors to the limit to coordinate an attack with us. The Whirlpool will be about a week behind them." The commodore could not fault the fear on the fliers' faces. No pilot wanted to go into battle against superior numbers.

"We will be attacking, but as it was pointed out earlier, it will take us a long time to get into position to launch our fighters. In the meantime, they will be taking pot shots at the inner solar system, and with the tracking facility on Mars out of commission, rocks could be slamming into New St. Louis with very little or no warning at all."

In the back of the room, Longshot leaned forward and whispered his fear into the ear of the flight engineer of Storm, one of the other VRADs. "I don't like where this is heading," he said. Longshot received a silent reprimand smartly in his ribs by Lady Luck, and he sat back immediately returning his attention to the front of the room.

Colonel Pharr resumed the podium and began to outline his strategy. "It will take us a while to get within striking range," he recalled, "but the VRADs can be there much sooner." He changed the view screen so that it displayed the planned flight route. "We will launch the VRADs and send them ahead with a command shuttle in tow. They can refuel at Jupiter and close to within attack range the next day.

Once they begin their attack runs, we expect the particle cannon to open fire. Therefore, we plan to launch a Quail 7 decoy drone to take the cannon's initial attack. A petawatt is a lot of power, and our experts do not think that the cannon can possibly have a rapid rate of fire, even if it is drawing directly off the solar collector they have erected out here. To compensate, they more than likely will have to sick their fighters and battle craft after the VRADs."

"Wonderful," a lone voice abruptly broke the dead silence. Pharr ignored the outburst and continued. Dixie is inoperative due to a bad quantum oscillator terminal, so she will have to stay in operation close to the command shuttle. There she can act as a defensive unit. The other four VRADs will have to handle whatever the Syndicate throws at them. I have some ideas for your strategy that I will go over with you later."

The display changed from the tactical display to show enhanced photos. "Your primary goals will be to knock out the mass driver, and if possible, the solar collector and the big particle cannon. Secondarily you are to take out as much of their battle capacity as you can before we arrive. They will undoubtedly throw fighters at you and you will be grossly outnumbered."

"As soon as we get within range," the commodore added, "we will launch our own forces and the Whirlpool's battle group will engage as soon as they possibly can as well. But if you don't take out that heavy particle cannon, those destroyers will be sitting ducks."

"We will discuss your strategy after this briefing," Pharr stated. "The flight crews will also meet at 0700 ship standard tomorrow morning for their battle assignments as well. Are there any questions?"

There were none and the commodore dismissed the assembly. "Until then you are dismissed." The jocks all stood and began filing out. Many of them offered words of encouragement to the VRAD crews, but most grimly kept to themselves. They were about to enter a deadly battle and cared very little about the VRAD crews who would not directly be endangered.

When the contents of the briefing room had dwindled down to Colonel Pharr and the crews of the five VRADs under his command, the colonel became visibly relaxed and informal. "General Briten is putting a lot at stake on us," he began. "He was one of the designers of the VRAD weapon system, and if we do not produce, the whole thing may be scrapped. Sol Def Com is getting a lot of pressure from the Market about how much a VRAD costs. They are looking for any excuse to discontinue the unit."

"That would make several jocks I know happy," Major Duncan commented dryly.

"They resent the fact that when they fly, they could be killed whereas when your ship flies, you are safe and sound in the armored belly of this beast," Pharr answered slapping the bulkhead of the carrier. "If you prove yourselves to them, you would be surprised how their attitudes would change. The bomber theory hasn't been tried in over a hundred years. It will take some convincing for them to accept it again. I know, I was there when the general sold the idea to the Command Staff."

Blake was studying the displayed chart. "They are going to see us coming long before we get withing striking range," he said.

"We have and estimate as to the range of their new cannon, Pharr assured him. "And the Mark 7 decoy drone will have an EM signature the size of a destroyer. That will undoubtedly be the one they attack. If our calculations are correct, before they can recharge their capacitors, you will be close enough to launch a few long range missiles and hopefully disable the damn thing."

"And if your calculations are wrong?" one of the Bandit's crew asked.

"You will know about it before anyone else," Pharr replied. "The loss of your ship will not be charged to you for erroneous intelligence."

Pharr illuminated a spot on the chart roughly halfway between Jupiter and the Trojan asteroid field. The command shuttle will park here. It is beyond the range of their fighters, but close enough to establish a QSO relay. The time lag will be almost undetectable, but that is the price we pay for having you operate so far away. In addition, the Dixie can stay on station with the command shuttle and be run via secure EM telemetry. We will use her as a shuttle escort."

Pharr glanced at the Dixie's crew. "I am sorry, but your bad oscillator simply won't allow you to get that far away from your command post. When the carrier catches up with the shuttle, you can join with the fighters. I assure you you will see all the combat you can stand."

"At least you'll have a ship to fight with then," the Storm's gunner sounded. "We probably will be nothing but rubble by then."

Pharr ignored the comment and proceeded with his plan. "You four will split up in pairs, he told the others. I want the Wraith and the Wildcard to make the main attack on the station. The Storm and the Bandit can draw their fighters out and if possible attack their carrier. Remember, you have certain advantages over the fighters. You have better weapons, you are faster in the long run, and because there are no passengers, you can turn sharper."

"But there are seventy five of them and only four of us," the same crewman pointed out. "That won't be easy to overcome."

"Try not to get destroyed," Pharr suggested. "Inflict as much damage to them as you can, and be sure to take out the primary and secondary targets, but don't try to win the war by yourselves. Let the dog fighting be done by jocks. That is what they get paid for."

Pharr left it at that and departed leaving the five VRAD crews in total silence. Major Duncan didn't waste time. He stood and addressed his squadron. "Our VRADS haven't seen much action," he reminded them. "The whole VRAD concept is unproven," he added. "So we have a chance to really make something happen. If we fail, the jocks will dominate space warfare for decades to come, but if we can show just how effective a heavy attack ship can be, we may very well revolutionize conventional strategy."

The major stepped behind the podium and keyed the display screen. An image of a small space craft resembling a three pronged pitchfork was displayed. "This is the most advanced Syndicate fighter craft," the major reported. "Since this station of theirs is so secret, and the carrier is brand new, we are making an educated guess that they are manning it with their latest and best weaponry."

He keyed the screen again and the image shifted to show various views of the craft. "This is their new Scorpion 7 fighter. It has an acceleration almost three times that of the Sonica class VRAD and boasts two four megawatt pulse lasers and two hard points that may very well support missile launchers. What kind of missiles they may be, we still do not know. We are only guessing at some of these statistics."

Duncan let the display continue to run but stepped away from the podium. "I can tell you a few things that we can assume. They will be able to change velocities faster than we do, our ships are just too heavy and have a lot of inertia. However, we can make harder turns and pull more gees. No matter how their ships are made, they can't exceed the limits of the pilot within. Keep that in mind."

"We can outgun them singly, and we can stand up to them on a ratio of about five to one. We have shielding, they do not. We have a steerable turret, they don't, so they will have to line up on us for cannon shots. They could try missiles, but our ECM systems are the best in the Market. Don't let them gang up on you and you will be okay."

"What about the battle craft?" Captain Jean Freeman, the blond haired, blue eyed the commander of Dixie asked.

"Stay away from them?" Longshot answered.

Freeman, whose call sign was Shiloh, gave Longshot an icy stare. "Not funny Lochlear," she scolded. "If those things get close enough to the command shuttle, you will lose your relay link to your drone and that will be the end of the Wildcard, the VRAD squadron, and only the jocks will be between them and the Andromeda."

She turned back to Duncan. "Well Spectre?" The major shuffled his foot. "There isn't much we can do," he said. "Our best chance of success is to split our forces. Wraith and Wildcard will attack the base, while Storm and Bandit harass the battl fleet."

He addressed the crews of the latter ships. "Don't get too close to them," he warned. "Stay far enough from them that your ECM can defeat their tracking systems. If you get too close, your counter measuers will be useless."

"Your best weapon will be the KW4 Sledgehammer," Thunder, the Storm's weapons officer advised. The oriental man was on the original testing staff under General Briton and knew the capabilities of the VRAD weapons systems better than anyone else. "The battle craft have shield generators too powerful for our particle cannons to do much more than scratch the hull and bounce the enemy's crew around some. But the KW4 slugs won't be affected by electromagnetic shielding. If you can aim for their field generators you could knock one out, then you will make a vulnerable spot to use your cannons on."

"Just two of us against an armada of battle craft?" Julio Lopez ,the Storm's EW officer asked exasperated. "It won't be two the whole time, Lightning," Duncan answered. "Wraith and Wildcard should be able to punch through the fighters and deliver a hard enough blow to their main station to at least prevent it from being involved in the main battle or launching more of those meteors at the Market."

"Once we do that we double back and help with the battle fleet?" Blackjack guessed.

"Right, Blake," Spector agreed. “Between the four of us we should be able to soften them enough for our own fighters to dish out some punishment when they get in striking range."

"Hopefully by that time, the Whirlpool's battle group will join in and help out." Shiloh guessed.

"That is the plan," Duncan confirmed. "Any more questions?"

"New fighters, new carrier, new space station," Lady Luck noted. "Are there any new bugs as well?" Poltergeist, the Wraith's EW officer answered. "We have no intelligence on anything new," she said, "but just in case, we are removing all restrictions on the ECM systems. If all EWOs will meet me in the ready room one hour before launch, we will go over the variables on the data link and download electronic ammo from the Andromeda's bionet mainframe."

"Anything else?" Spectre asked. No one could think of anything else. "Okay then," he said. "I want to see you all in the ready room by launch minus ten minutes with all pre flights accomplished and in VR neurals. Dismissed."

The assembled VR warriors filed out and into the corridor. There they split up and headed for various locations. Ben tugged Shamus' sleeve. "You want to play a round of handball?"

Shamus shook his head. "Not this time," he decided. "I think I want to get plenty of sleep. I get the feeling that we are going to be putting some long hours in over the next few days." He turned and headed for the travel tube.