Chapter 8 Part 1

Chapter 8


The Wildcard tore across the vast emptiness between the leading Trojan asteroid field and Jupiter. The crew were restless and tense. They had been in battle and fled the scene without much more than a scratch. Their hearts raced, their breath was still short, and all they could do was sit and guide their ship back to the com shuttle and the three remaining VRADs waiting with it. When they arrived, the remnants of the squadron fell into formation and resumed a slow course back to the Andromeda which in turn was rushing to meet them.

"Reactor at forty percent," Longshot reported. "If the Andromeda is on schedule and we aren't sidetracked, we should have enough fuel to make it back at this rate of fuel consumption."

"Man that was awesome," Roulette muttered quietly. He had not spoken since they had evacuated the battle space and outrun their pursuit. Since then only what was absolutely necessary had been said.

Blackjack began to have reservations about his crew and about the whole VRAD weapon system. It was too clean and easy. They had killed hundreds of Syndicate personnel whose only crime had been to be citizens of a competing economic union. All dead; and his crew had pulled the triggers. There had been no resolve, no taste of death, and no risk. Of course, had they lost their ship, they would have been grounded and probably reassigned to other duties with marred careers, but they were in absolutely no danger of losing their lives.

In a way, Blackjack tasted the loathing that many of the jocks held for VR crews. As for his people, they had always taken the jibes and teasing about their tight suits with a grain of salt, writing the abuse off to jealousy. Blackjack wondered if perhaps flying a VRAD was not just a little bit cowardly.

The final leg of the mission was uneventful. The appearance of the bright dot in the distance made everyone long to return to their apartments. When that bright dot swelled to the familiar rhomboidal kite shape of the carrier, impatience intruded upon discipline.
"Haunted House to Ghost Squadron, stand by to relinquish command to docking units."

"Haunted House this is Ghost Lead." Specter's voice betrayed his fatigue own. "We are ready to dock."

"Ghost Squadron, stand down and welcome home." The greeting was traditional and not necessarily sincere.

"We have docking telemetry," Longshot advised.

"Stand down," Blackjack ordered releasing his own controls. Almost immediately he reached up and detached himself from the VR module's systems. Without waiting for his crew members, he stood and vacated the module.

In the hallway, Duncan was waiting. "I know everyone is tired and hungry, but we have been ordered to the main briefing lounge."

"Why?" Drake asked.

"Because tonight we are going to be within striking range of that base again and the jocks are going to have to get out there and finish what we started. And I want them to have every scrap of intelligence we can squeeze from our flight recorders."

When the five crews entered the briefing room, it was filled with fighter pilots and fleet battle officers. Obviously it was expected for the Andromeda herself to take an active part in the upcoming battle.

The commodore opened the briefing. "Gentlemen," he began as the room's lights dimmed. "This morning's raid has yielded some very surprising results. Even though we lost one of the VRADs and a second one took enough damage to keep it from flying again for several weeks, we accomplished our primary objectives and inflicted massive amounts of collateral damage. "

"Ghost Squadron managed to destroy a Syndicate battle cruiser, a gunship and a total of thirty six fighters. In addition, three other gunships were heavily damaged as well as another battle cruiser, their flagship. Further, we have obtained invaluable data on a new fighter that they are using and its capabilities."

"Their own carrier was undamaged in the raid, and they still have an effective battle group. Between our own fighters, the Andromeda, and the VRADs, things are panning out to be an even fight. In this we are assuming that three VRADs will be effective in combating their damaged battle fleet and holding their fresh ships at bay. Already the VRAD project has paid for itself."

The audience murmured a bit in response. There was no arguing with the results of the raid, even so, many fighter pilots were less than appreciative.

Commodore Becker continued. "The Whirlpool's battle group will arrive about the same time that we do only from a different direction. That puts us in a very good position. Most of the Syndicate's attention is going to be on us. They have the bulk of the asteroid field between them and our reinforcements. If we can preoccupy them, our forces can sneak up behind them and work them over without having to deal with their defenses."

The commodore turned the briefing over to Colonel Pharr. The colonel approached the podium and keyed the viewer. A diagram of the fighters that attacked the Wildcard appeared. The rear ball on a flat disk shape still reminded Blake of a plate with uneaten mashed potatoes.

"From the telemetry we gathered during the raid, we have some information about the new Syndicate fighter. There are several puzzling advantages it seems to have and we still do not know what it is capable of."

"First and foremost, the new fighter appears to be ray shielded." This statement produced several groans from the fighter pilots.

One pilot raised his voice. "Sir, how is that possible? We have been trying to do that for years. It is generally accepted that the energy drain of the craft's reactor is too great."

"We have a theory that would explain the presence of the shield, but it is only a guess. Also if what we suspect is true, the new fighters will be more maneuverable and aggressive than yours."

"More aggressive?" Lt. Colonel Farland asked.

Colonel Pharr clarified. "Unfortunately, that is the only way I can explain it accurately. It is not meant to question your courage or patriotism."

"Our engineers and technicians are of the opinion that the new fighters are the Syndicate's first attempt in unmanned combat craft."

"You mean VRADs," a junior pilot offered.

"That is a possibility," the colonel admitted, "though they may not actually use Virtual Reality. They may just use a mockup. That was the way our VRAD system began. We went with VR when we realized that a mockup was far too difficult to maintain. It had to be repeatedly disassembled, repaired and monitored. VR is simply a program."

"But their pilots are in no physical danger, so they don't have to fear for their lives," the junior pilot added. It was apparent that he was a VRAD hater. It was also apparent from most of the other pilot's faces that they agreed with him. Several of the senior jocks, however, made their displeasure at his outburst known.

"Lt. Render," Roundhouse interrupted. "If you don't mind, I would like to hear the rest of the briefing."

"Let him speak, colonel," Pharr urged. "His fears are based in fact. I want him to respect the power of these new fighters. Maybe that respect will save his life."

The colonel glared at the outspoken jock who retreated back into his seat silently. "We have some suggestions that may help in neutralizing some of those advantages," he continued.

"First, fly in pairs and let each pair fly in pairs. If you maintain a foursome, you can take a lot of their maneuverability away from them."

"Their shields appear to be the standard kind. If they are indeed drones, the lack of a cockpit and life support would give them enough space to install a larger reactor and shielding systems. Ray weapons may not work well against them, but missiles and kinetic weapons should. We are reconfiguring your adders with rocket pods instead of particle cannons. That drops your ability against armored battle craft. To compensate for that, we are refueling and rearming Ghost Squadron. They will go out with you and keep the battle fleet off your backs until our reserves get here."

"You will get your flight profiles prior to launch. Until then, are there any further questions about the general attack plan?" the colonel asked.

There were none so Colonel Pharr dismissed the members of Ghost Squadron. "I know the VRAD crews have been just landed for the most part and would like to get some rest. Major Duncan, would you have your people return in six hours. I would like to fill them in on the next phase of the mission."

Major Duncan saluted smartly in reply. As he led his squadron out the door, he heard a remark from the room. "Don't see why they would be tired, they haven't done anything."
He wouldn't have responded even if he wanted to, but he was pleased by the outburst that followed from one of the senior pilots.

"Shut up snot nose," the voice said as the door slid shut.

"One of these days I am going to punch Render in the nose," Ben muttered.

"Don't waste the effort," Lee advised. "It will only let them know that they are getting to you. Then you'll really hear it."

"I still think," Lochlear conceded, "that a good belting would solve more problems than it would cause."

"Don't worry about Render," Shamus urged. "The more experienced jocks will take care of him for you."

"Yeah," Ben laughed. "It sounded like Roundhouse was getting a little tired of that smart mouth."

"Where does he get that attitude?" Shamus wondered. "Most jocks are content to silently hate us in private."

"His grandfather was an ace in the first extraterrestrial conflict. The old man was awarded the Terran Star of Valor." Lee Drake was a history buff in addition to being a former intelligence officer. "I think he is afraid that VRADs will make jocks obsolete before he can make a hero of himself as well."

They reached their apartment and immediately went to their respective rooms to get some rest. None of them were eager to bluff insomnia.

Chapter 7 Part 4

Blackjack followed Roulette's navigating instructions closely. The gunner was carefully weaving a course through the tumbling asteroid field in an attempt to maintain their concealment while at the same time keeping them from crashing into the huge planetesimals as they crept ever closer to their prey.

Blackjack concentrated of following the navigational cursor even as he listened to the various reports coming in over the com. Another advantage of the VRAD weapon system was that the other crews were no more than fifty feet away even though their ships were thousands of miles distant. It was the ultimate method to communicate with each other without the enemy intercepting the messages.

Roulette continued to work furiously. When they used terrain masking on the planets, the terrain was usually already mapped out and stationary. The asteroids, on the other hand, were in constant motion. Passing planets, and impacts from rogue debris easily set of chain reactions of bumping and reverberating solid bodies.

The only break in the gunner's concentration came when Thunder announced the destruction of the Storm. Then Roulette glanced up and briefly locked eyes with Blackjack. The reality that they could not be killed if their ship was lost had always been a comforter. The sudden realization that Thunder and his crew were without a ship was unsettling. Though they had all wondered at one time or another, no one had dared to ask what would happen if that should occur.

"Keep your mind on your jobs," Blackjack urged. The best way to keep the Wildcard from ending up a drifting cloud of scrap was to play the game the best they could.
When a few moments later, Highwayman relayed that they too were bugging out of the fight, no one took much note. Spectre's solid sounding voice and confidence was like a tonic.

"Blackjack?" Spectre's voice was calm as it drifted over the com.

"We're here." Blackjack assured him.

"We are about to emerge from the larger rocks into the area they have cleared out. When we do, they will pick us up and begin throwing everything they have at us. If you take too long, they will be waiting for you when you emerge."

Roulette keyed his own com, a slight breach of protocol, but generally overlooked. "We are about five seconds behind you," he said.

"Sounds good," Spectre decided. "Let's go get them."

"We'll make them fear the VRADs," Blackjack added.

"From the sound of things, Thunder and Highwayman have already done that," Spectre added.

After a few more moments, the Wildcard skirted around a particularly large asteroid and out into open space. There in front of them was the Syndicate base. The large solar array loomed to their left and the Wraith peeled off and made a bee-line towards it.

Roulette keyed in the final coordinate on his computer and the nav cursor in Blackjack's HUD changed from defensive red to attack blue. "Crew we are IP inbound at this time," Roulette announced. He immediately began programming the weapons load.

Lady Luck made a quick appraisal of their situation. "There is nothing between us and the primary at this time, but if that carrier held some of its fighters back, they could be in position to intercept us in ninety seconds."

"All systems are nominal," Longshot added.

Blackjack lined up the cursor and nudged the throttle to attack power. At the rear of the ship, the twin fusion fed drive thrusters burned a colorless energy, but the surrounding insulation glowed a blue-white with unimaginable heat.

"Primary release point in thirty seconds," Roulette announced.

Blackjack held the VRAD on course and watched the looming carrier. He was not altogether surprised when the tell tale flashes of light appeared heralding fighter launches.

"We have company," Lady Luck announced as her scan picked up the new readings.
"About thirty fighters. They are forming up on the Wraith. More than likely they will make a pass on her then come after us."

"If what we have seen is any indication," Longshot offered, we shouldn't have much trouble blasting our way through them."

"Wait," Lady Luck interrupted. "A second set of fighters just launched. I count five. They are different in configuration and are moving to intercept us."

"What configuration is this," Blackjack asked.

Lady Luck worked furiously at her database. "They aren't on record."

"Spectre to Wildcard, watch out for new bogeys." The other crew had picked the signals up as well.

"Roger, Spectre, do you have a make on these guys?" Blackjack asked.

"Negative," Spectre answered. "Poltergeist tells me that they are unknowns."

"Well then," Blackjack boasted, "let's find out what they are made of."

"The Wraith is making its attack run," Lady Luck noted.

Far off and ahead to their left, the other VRAD sliced through a swarm of fighters. Twin beams of azure cut a path through the midst of the pesky but otherwise harmless Devil-Rays. Three of the smaller craft exploded as the dorsal and belly laser turrets opened fire from the passing VRAD.

There was no time for Blackjack to make further observations as their own opponents were rapidly closing the distance.

"These guys are faster than the Devil-Rays," Lady Luck warned.

"Ten seconds to primary release point," Roulette stated.

"That is just great," Lady Luck swore. "We are going to be in our most vulnerable state just in time for those unknowns to commence their attack."

"Primary is priority," Longshot recited the VRAD attack policy. It was the command's directive that target destruction took precedent over VRAD defense.

"The jocks don't have that burden," Lady Luck muttered in reply.

"Bay coming open," Roulette announced. "Five, four, three, two, one, hack!"

"They have a lock on us," Lady Luck yelled.

"Bay closed, clear for evasive."

"ECM on line! Jink hard left!"

Blackjack complied immediately. He was aware of the severity of the situation since Lady Luck rarely raised her voice.

The evasive maneuver was only partly completed when the screen flashed red then blinked with static. The returned image showed them Wildcard spinning wildly.

Blackjack fought to get the ship under control while Longshot made a damage assessment. After a moment he breathed a sigh of relief. "That was a proximity blast," he said. "No physical damage."

"Not entirely true," Lady Luck disagreed. "That was a radiation blast. It is designed to radioactively kill all crew members of a lightly shielded ship. We knew that they were working on that, but we did not know they had it deployed."

"Come about to two seventy mark sixty," Roulette interrupted. "Let's get out of here. You can talk about that weapon later."

"Getting away may be harder than you thought," Lady Luck stammered. "Here they come again."

Blackjack did not even wait for the suggestion, he threw the throttle to full thrust. "Longshot give me one hundred percent on the reactor. We've done our bit for king and country, now let's get our ship home in one piece."

"Hunker!"

Lady Luck's shout caught them all by surprise, but Blackjack instantly reacted. He shoved the Wildcard's nose over so hard that he thought he had slammed his fist against the blank panel in the VR module.

As fate would have it, the reflexive reaction turned out to be both a life saver, and a stroke of tactical luck. The Wildcard performed a negative loop so tight, that she ended up less that one kilometer behind the quintet of enemy fighters.

"Roulette and Lady Luck wasted no time. While the EW officer activated her laser turrets, Roulette triggered the proton cannons. To everyone's surprise, Roulette's bolts glanced the underside of one of the fighters and bounced harmlessly away.

"Impossible!" Roulette exclaimed, "no ship that size has shielding."

"I beg to differ," Blackjack replied. "The proof is in the pudding.

Lady Luck's turret lasers had equal luck. "They are ray shielded," she cursed.

"Let's see if they are armored," Roulette hissed as his hand came down on the firing stud for the rail gun.

The KW-4 bucked and the center fighter disintegrated. The other four arced away in opposite directions.

"Returning to course," Blackjack stated as he lined back up on the nav cursor. "Lady Luck, keep an eye on those four."

She stayed glued to her scanner for several long minutes. "The don't seem to be much faster than the other fighters," she noted. "We can stay ahead of them at full thrust."

Blackjack did not get a chance to respond, for a brilliant flare erupted to the left of their flight path. "There goes the solar array," Roulette reported. "Five seconds to our own detonation."

"Assuming you hit the target," Longshot teased.

"Bets?" Roulette challenged.

"No," the flight engineer answered. He was not about to gamble against Roulette on a bombing run.

Right on schedule, a second flash erupted. This one was far off to the right and behind them. "That is a shack," Roulette announced triumphantly using the traditional phrase for a bulls-eye."

"The only thing between us and home is an attack cruiser," Lady Luck announced. "The Wraith just unloaded her SRAMs on it, and took only one hit in return. They won't have any problem getting back."

"Setting targets," Roulette said as he compared the data relayed from the Wraith in order to select strikes that would do the most damage.

He was intrigued to note that two of the other VRAD's missiles had hit in the same spot near where the ship's reactors were located. If they had weakened the armor enough, he might be able to take the cruiser totally out of commission.

"Boss," the gunner began, "line up on her dorsal midship and hold a straight and steady course.

"Hey, guns," Lady Luck warned, "the goulies didn't take out many of that thing's defenses," she said referring to the Wraith's crew by their collective nickname. Their sister ship had not scored enough hits to sufficiently hamper the cruiser's defenses.

"We have a chance to score big here folks. Let's take a chance."

"You mean gamble?" Longshot asked.

"Don't you believe in fate?"

Longshot remembered what he had gotten on the slot machine before they had left. "Go for it," he urged.

Roulette opened the weapons bay and launched all eight missiles. Then he lined up the rail gun and triggered it as rapidly as it could recycle. He managed to get of three shots before Blackjack pulled out of the dive.

As the VRAD streaked by, several of the heavy guns reached out yearningly to erase the craft from existence, but only one shot hit, and though it punctured the shield and severely scarred the right kinard, the Wildcard remained otherwise untouched.

Without a second thought, the crew burned their way back towards their base ship, and the safety of their own fighters.

Chapter 7 Part 3

No further than thirty feet away, Highwayman and his crew had seen the Storm plow into the bridge of the gunboat. There had been no time to ponder the event, for they themselves were in dire straights.

After breaking formation with the Storm, the Bandit had driven straight at the onrushing fighters. They had flown through the midst of them with all weapons blazing. Almost ten fighters had been destroyed in that single pass, but a lucky shot from one of the Devil-Ray's pulse laser has ruptured a cooling unit for the VRAD's reactor. The backup unit came on line automatically, and the Bandit was spared any major problems.

The fighters did not give chase, and the Bandit found itself nose to nose with a heavy Scimitar class battle cruiser. This monster was more than a dozen times the size of the smaller gunboats, and was quite probably the command ship of the battle fleet. Next to the huge carrier ship, the cruiser was the largest ship and also the most heavily armed and armored.

Highwayman had immediately ordered his EW officer, a slim and graceful young woman of Hispanic ancestry, to augment their ECM with a powder charge.

The problem with more advanced weaponry like the SRAMs and HERCULES weapons, was that they were guided by imagery as well as active sensors. So even if they could jam the scanner frequencies, they were still vulnerable to attacks homing in on reflected light from their ship's hull. To combat that, the ship's surface contained s series of spray nozzles that could throw a shroud of black powder around the VRAD to hide it in the blackness of space. The drawback was that the powder reservoir only contained a single charge and the stuff tended to cause problems with external instruments and could not change direction with them if they needed to.

Highwayman ordered the powder used and kept the Bandit on a steady course that would take it over and behind the cruiser.

"At this range," Brigand, the EW officer warned, "they will be able to burn through our jamming."

"Sing out if they do," Highwayman instructed. "Burglar," he addressed the flight engineer, a tall black man, "give me all the power we have. If we get a clean shot, I want to unload both of those HERCULES at this tub."

Highwayman looked at his gunner. "All right, Thief, don't miss."

Thief, a stout and short young woman with a generously blessed chest, made some adjustments to the weapons systems.

"They have a lock!" Brigand warned excitedly.

Highwayman yanked the steering column back and drew the Bandit into a steep climb. He maintained the climb, but lessened the rate of turn so that the ship followed a long wide loop.

A jolt hit the ship and his screen flashed red and was followed by a moment of static. The image returned and he saw a bolt of energy flash outside the screen.

"We have broken the lock," Brigand reported.

"Bay coming open," Thief announced, them almost immediately the two large missiles were away. Thief closed the bay and Highwayman brought the VRAD about in a hard turn to put as much distance between them as he could.

"We lost the left wing," Burgular announced. Not that it mattered in space except that a proton cannon was at the tip of that wing.

"Our port deflectors are only operating at twenty percent," Brigand added.

"I don't plan to hang around long enough to let them get another shot at us," Highwayman said. "Lets unload those SRAMs and get the hell out of here.

"What about the Storm?"

"They are playing tag with one of the gunboats," Thief informed her crew mate.

"The cruiser's sensor power has dropped to almost nothing," Brigand noted. "Turn us around for a look."

Highwayman was not too keen on the idea of going back towards the cruiser, but it was somewhat important to know what they had done to it.

When the huge ship was again in view, they could see the scars of where the HERCULES missiles had peppered the outer hull wiping it clean of sensory instruments and weapons controls.

"Hey," Thief exclaimed. "We have a decent chance to make a dent in that thing." She manipulated a few controls and fired her rail gun. The projectile punctured the armor and produced a jet of air from within. She then launched the remaining eight missiles. The SRAMs were set for radar guidance since the cruiser was showing itself incapable of jamming their scans.

The eight missiles tore holes the size of fighter craft in the larger vessel's hull.

"Don't underestimate that thing," Brigand warned. As if to confirm her warning, the cruiser began to roll over. Suddenly a fresh set of gun emplacements began to appear.
Highwayman flipped the Bandit around and fired his thrusters at full power.

A multitude of flashes of light appeared outside the screen and again the screen flashed red. When the image reappeared, the damage was hardly worth mentioning. "We lost a rudder," Burgular told them. They had lost another useless component in space.

"We seem to be leading a charmed life," Brigand observed.

"Let's not push our luck," Highwayman urged. "Let's rejoin with the Storm and get out of here."

"It was about that time when Thunder's voice broke over the intercomm and informed Spectre that the Storm had been lost.

After a moment, Spectre called. "Wraith to Bandit. How are you holding up?"

Highwayman answered. "We have taken some heavy hits, but we dished out better than we took."

"Can you make it back to base?"

"That is affirmative," Highwayman confirmed as Burgular nodded.

"Then go ahead and disenguage. We are about to make our attack runs and even if they know we are here, they won't be able to get to us in time." Spectre sounded somewhat pleased.

"Do you want us to wait for you?" Highwayman offered.

"No, you get out of there. We and the Wildcard will hit our targets and then blast our way through their pickets. We will rejoin you en route to base."

"Wilco," Highwayman stated and lined his ship up on a course for the Andromeda. Then he kicked the thruster into full acceleration. The VRAD was capable of outrunning every other ship in the vicinity, and Highwayman planned to make good use of that statistic.

Chapter 7 Part 2

The Bandit and Storm barreled straight at the enemy. Their shields were at full strength and weapons were primed. Thunder, the ship's commander and pilot muttered an invocation for his ancestors and the Samurai code of the warrior that had taken him to his present status. His oriental heritage was laying beside him in the VR module. A katana blade, passed to him from his grandfather on the day he was promoted to the command of a combat crew, lay on the featureless floor beside the console mockup.

Ahead of them, four battle craft and a hoard of fighters reminiscent of Genghis Khan's Mongols closed rapidly on them.

The four Devil-Ray fighters that had rushed our to meet them had not even gotten a volley of fire off. The two VRADs' particle cannons had hammered the smaller craft to rubble before the fighters could get close enough to attack.

The other fighters were much more patient. They followed under the formidable firepower of the huge gunboats bearing down on the VRADs.

Already, the long range of the gunboats was getting uncomfortable. Though still missing badly due to the VRAD ECM systems, the gunboats were closing the distance and with their superior firepower and heavy shields, may very well herald the end of the attack drones.

"Bandit to Storm. Those fighters are forming up to make a pass at us." Highwayman, the other ship's commander was off their port flank.

Thunder had indeed noted that the enemy were performing a half pincer. "Okay let's entertain our guests," he answered. "You break to the left and we will burn right. come about after twenty seconds and let's strafe the heavies. Then we can swat the flies."
Thunder's instructions were cryptic, but understood and no sooner had they been concluded did the Bandit peel off and pull away to the left.

Simultaneously, Thunder rolled the Storm around to the right and gunned the thrusters. The VRAD jumped out and began to accelerate.

Lightning, his gunner, busily programmed the missiles in their weapons bay to the home in on the schematic detail of the Syndicate's gunboats. The fruits of years of intelligence work was about to pay off. The SRAM, or Simulated Radar Attack Missile, used an active radar to fool enemy vessels into concentrating their countermeasures on radar jamming. In truth the missile was guided by digital optics. The missile homed in on a given hull configuration, in this case, the shield generators, power production and power distribution centers.

"Lightning, as soon as we complete our attack run, I want the chaff net dropped. Lets throw as much confusion into the fray as we can." Thunder wheeled the ship around and lined it up on the leading gunboat.

"All right lets rain on their parade. Bonzai!" With that, Thunder slammed the thrusters to their maximum.

"Weapons on line," Lightning announced. "Bay coming open."

"They are lining up on us," Cyclone, the EW officer warned. The screen flashed red. "That was a deflected hit form their forward laser battery," he added.

"Reactor holding steady at ninty-five percent," the flight engineer muttered. His call sign was Sleet. They called him that because he never got excited. He was always ice cold.

"Bay coming closed," Lightning announced. "Clear for evasive."

"Jink left," Cyclone ordered.

Thunder fired the lateral thruster and the Storm slipped several hundred feet to the left. A pair of bright green plasma beams illuminated the area they had just vacated.

"Jink up," another order came. and the space they were crossing came alive with dozens of red lines.

"Several deflections, but no hits," Sleet yawned.

"Recover to course," Cyclone ordered.

As Thunder complied, Lightning began to make adjustments on the KW4 rail gun. "We got four SRAMs out," he reported.

The closest gunboat loomed ever larger in their view screen. Cyclone snickered. "They are throwing every watt of jamming power they have at the SRAMs," he told his crew.

The action was for naught, though, for seconds later the four missiles slammed into the larger ship's hull. The explosions wrecked tons of hardware and disrupted vital control systems. This was evident when the gunboat began a slow yaw and ceased to fire its smaller guns at them.

"Hold this attitude," Lightning urged. "I want to get one shot in before we pass this turkey."

"Make it quick," Cyclone pleaded. "Flying in a straight line makes us very vulnerable."
Lightning's targeting system aligned, and he hit the firing stud. "Clear for evasive," he announced as the weapon fired.

"Come about to 110 mark 70 and extend," Cyclone ordered. That course would carry them out of the lethal range of the gunship's weapons as rapidly as possible.

Even as Thunder adjusted the course, a gaping hole opened in the upper hull of the heavy battle craft in a blossom of bright orange.

"That is a good hit with the rail gun," Lightning whooped. "Most of that explosion is coolant from their reactor deck."

"Congratulate yourself later," Cyclone warned. "We have company."

Flying up from ahead and below a quintet of fighters flew in a classical V formation. Above and to the right five more dove on them.

"Twenty degree dive. Head straight for the lower flight," Cyclone ordered.

Thunder complied and closed the distance between the fleet fighters and themselves much too quickly for the smaller ships to line up their weapons.

Cyclone, being in control of the dorsal and belly laser turrets had no such difficulty. He aligned the optical sensors on the reflective surfaces of the fighters and allowed the auto tracking systems to guide the guns. When they closed into cannon range, Cyclone's lethal defense turned two of the five Devil-Rays into rapidly expanding blossoms of hot gas.

The other three scattered and turned in wide sweeping arcs to fall in with the five perusing fighters.

"Hard about, Thunder," Cyclone urged. "Let's play chicken."

Thunder wheeled the Storm around in a tight half loop. The turn radius was so tight, that the ship seemed to almost flip over from the indications on their control panels.

The fighters suddenly were no longer chasing a fleeing attack craft, but were in a head on collision with a vessel well over five times their own individual masses. The Devil-Rays flushed and scattered like a star burst with the VRAD piercing the formation's heart.

Again the dorsal and belly turrets belched forth lethal bolts, but this time the range was too great for effective accuracy and the prey escaped.

"Bay coming open," Lightning announced. "We are free to maneuver," he added indicating that he was not aligning a missile so they were not restricted in movement.

"Another gunboat is bearing down on us," Cyclone warned, "eighty six mark three forty-three."

"Chaff net away," Lightning countered. "Bay closed. That should confuse their laser and radar guided systems."

"They have optical tracking as well," Cyclone reminded them.

"That has a very limited range," Lightning pointed out.

"Let's put some damage on this new tub," Thunder ordered.

"Come to eighty mark zero," Lightning replied. "Hold her steady while I get these other four SRAMs out. Bay coming open."

Thunder held the course as steady as possible for Lightning to launch their remaining four missiles. Unlike the last time, he saw each missile streak out ahead of the ship as it was launched. Just as the last one fired, the screen flashed red twice and the image flickered.

"We just took a hit," Sleet said flatly. "The number four ventral shield was damaged."

"The open bay made us vulnerable to laser attacks, and a fighter sneaked in from below," Cyclone explained.

"Bay closed. Cleared for evasive," Lightning answered.

"Thunder," Cyclone urged, "adjust your course to fly across his bow and dive underneath him. We have to keep his heavy guns away from our belly."

Thunder nosed the ship into a steeper dive and dropped below the gunboat's flight plane even as the missiles tor gaping holes in the battle craft's armor. Then he leveled off and put the ship in a slightly nose up attitude.

"Hold it steady," Lightning muttered in a level tone as he sighted the deadly rail gun again. The gunner fired the KW-4. The aft section of the vessel ballooned and ruptured flinging bits of metal, and frozen fluids into the vacuum.

"That took out most of his belly guns," Lightning announced jubilantly.

"Fighters at six and closing," Cyclone warned. "Punch it boss. Zero mark three hundred."

Again Thunder put the Storm in a steep dive. Only this time the VRAD did not have a speed advantage. The fighters were already at maximum velocity. Before the Storm could outrun them, they had closed the distance sufficiently to launch their own missiles.

"Four uplink's," Cyclone shouted, warning his crew that four guided missiles were incoming. "I jammed two of them, but the other two are too close."

Again the screen flashed red and the flash was followed by static as the virtual reality cockpit winked out and then came back.

"We took two major strikes in the rear," Sleet casually announced. "The reactor is down to sixty percent of capability and both rear deflectors were lost."

"Come about and steer into the fighters," Cyclone ordered. "Don't give them time to line up another shot at out aft section."

"Reroute power from rear deflectors to forward deflectors," Thunder ordered as he adjusted the course.

The Storm streaked straight towards the seven fighters. As the distance closed, Thunder outlined his plan. "All right here is what we do," he said. "As we pass, I will bring us about in a high gee half loop. That should drop us in position just behind them. I'll line up on the lead ship. Lightning can take him out while Cyclone let's the rest of them know what for."

The fighters, broke just as they had before. And just as they flashed by, Thunder flipped the Storm around on the Devil-Rays' tails.

Almost instantly, Cyclone activated the laser turrets. The resulting fire lowered the count of fighters by two more.

Almost as quickly, the proton cannons on the VRAD's wingtips flashed and vaporized the lead fighter sending all the surviving craft in a mad scramble of evasive maneuvers.

Taking advantage of the disarray, Thunder wheeled the Storm around and lined back up on the second gunboat. "Let's get a few more shots at this thing," Thunder urged.

They dove hard at the ship and Lightning fired the rail gun twice more with each shot opening gaping holes in the battle craft's hull. In addition, he opened up with the proton cannons as well. The SRAMs and the KW-4 had destroyed much of the gunboat's shielding and the charged particles from the cannons ripped deep gashes along the length of the ship.

"Fantastic," Thunder whooped as he guided the VRAD beneath the ship and passed under the larger craft.

His elation died in the air as they rounded to the back of the vessel. They emerged in a head on course with several dozen of the small fighters.

"Not good," Cyclone noted.

"Don't mix it up with them if you can help it," Lightning advised. "Let our own jocks take care of them. Get us back on course to hit that tub," he urged meaning the crippled battle craft.

"That thing is little threat right now," Thunder decided. "We need to beat up on the first one we hit first."

"Fly through the fighters at full speed," Cyclone ordered. We don't dare turn our rear to them without deflectors."

"I don't think we will be able to ward off too many of their shots from the front either," Sleet said. "We still only have sixty percent on the reactor."

"Open a hole in them, Lightning," Thunder ordered. "Make them get out of the way."
Lightning began rapidly pulse firing the proton cannons vaporizing several fighters and opening a channel directly in front of them. At the same time Cyclone had the dorsal and belly turrets running hard and six more fighters were destroyed by the time they made it through the swarm.

Cyclone checked his proximity scan and his fears were confirmed. "We have well over thirty fighters on our tail," he said, "and with only sixty percent on the reactor we can't outrun them. That plus the lack of shielding is going to make this a very nasty ride."

Thunder did not like where this was leading. "Sleet," he asked, "if we shut everything else down, can we outrun them?"

Sleet's answer was typically cold. "No."

Thunder was faced with a dilemma. Behind them were more fighters than they could possible handle. Ahead of them was a damaged gunboat. He was going to lose the Storm anyhow, but he wanted to squeeze as much value out of her as he could.

"Crew," he announced, "my ancestors believed in something called the Divine Wind, the Kamikaze." He lined the Storm up on a collision course with the gunboat.

"Those ancient warriors would crash their aircraft into enemy vessels to inflict as much destruction as they could. That is what we are going to do."

Lightning nodded and fired the rail gun again as they dove towards the gunship.

"When this is over, I will share a little something special with you," Thunder promised. "Before taking off, the Kamikaze were given a shot of Saki. And I just happen to have a small flask hidden in my quarters."

"I have never been so anxious to crash," Cyclone laughed.

The Storm accelerated as hard as its reactor could push it. As they closed on the gunship, Lightning got two more shots off with the rail gun and several shots with the proton cannons. The rail gun slammed into the forward armor severely damaging the vessel, but because the shield generators in that part of the ship were still intact, the proton cannons were ineffective.

Thunder watched as the ship swelled to fill their viewer. At the last minute, he recognized the unique structure of the ship's bridge. Instinctively he pulled the VRAD around and guided it straight into the battle craft's command center.

The screen flashed red and then went dark. The words "Terminal Impact" and "Link Disrupted" appeared on the inside of his VR helmet.

"Storm to Wraith," Thunder called over the intercom from module three to module one.

"Go ahead Storm," Spectre's voice replied.

"We are out of action at this time."

"Are you blind?" Spectre asked wanting to know if they were flying blind.

"Negative," Thunder replied. "The Storm was destroyed."

"Understood," Spectre replied at last. It sounded as if he had actually expected the squadron to fly in destroy all of the enemy ships and fly back out without a scratch. "Make sure we ge the intelligence summaries."

"Will do," Thunder agreed. He unplugged himself from the VR module and followed his crew out of the room. While they went to the locker, he walked down the hall to the control desk. The officer on duty was compiling all of the recorded data that the Storm had collected.

"You crippled two battle craft and destroyed eighteen fighters," the officer informed him. That information has been relayed to the other VRADs.

Thunder took a printed copy of their flight log and returned to the locker ready lounge where he and his crew began to review their actions.

Charter 7 Part 1

Chapter 7


"Oh, they definitely know we are here now," Lady Luck announced as her sensors lit up from all the scanning energy directed at them.

"Uh, Boss?" Roulette muttered hesitantly.

"What is it," Blackjack answered.

"There are a lot of really big rocks at the outer edge of that asteroid group."

"So?"

"If we can get some of them between us and those sensors, we could cruise right up to their doorstep and ring the bell without their being any the wiser."

"You know," Lady Luck cut in, "he's right. A lot of our training has been in terrain masking. Well there isn't any terrain out here, but asteroid fields are as close as it gets."

Blackjack mulled it over briefly then keyed the intercom. "Lead, this is Wildcard, we have an idea."

Spectre listened as Blackjack outlined the plan. There was a long few seconds as he conferred with his own crew.

"Lead to two, run silent and follow us."

"I guess he bought it," Longshot offered.

"Never mind," Blackjack ordered. "Everyone run silent."

As the crew complied, Blackjack kept the Wildcard in the tail of the Wraith as the latter ship changed to a new heading."

"Three and four this is lead. Good luck and keep em busy until we can sneak in their back door."

"Roger, lead," the commander of Bandit replied. "We will throw enough jamming out to hide your maneuver. Good luck to yourselves."

"Two this is lead," Spectre called to them. "There has been a slight change in plans. We are going to skirt the edge of the asteroid field and try to keep the larger bodies between us and their base until we can get close enough to attack."

"Are you sure it will work?" Blackjack asked.

"It worked last month in the mountains of Callisto when you waxed our rear ends. We will mask ourselves with the bulk of that asteroid field."

"You realize we are giving that big pop gun of theirs another shot at us," Blackjack pointed out.

"They won't even be looking for us," Spectre replied. "Bandit and Storm are going to keep jamming their sensors and making enough of a fuss out there to keep them occupied."

"Don't you think they got a count of our numbers?"

"Poltergeist tells me that they didn't have time," Spectre relayed his own EW crewman's analysis.

Blackjack glanced over his shoulder at Lady Luck. She nodded her agreement.

"Okay," Blackjack conceded, "we'll follow your leader, but if we get blasted out of the sky, you are buying every drink we can chug until we get back to Terra."

"Agreed," Spectre said. "Haunt will hardwire the course to your nav."
Momentarily, an data stream came across Roulette's console via a direct interface between VR modules. Roulette worked quickly and soon the new course was plotted and a fresh navigational cursor appeared on Blackjack's HUD.

They flew for several long minutes in silence. The nagging doubt that their plan would work played on each mind. If they had been detected moving away from the other two VRADs they would be sitting ducks because the petawatt particle cannon would recharge and blow them from existence.

Over their com, they could hear the Bandit and Storm engaged in combat and meeting token resistance.

"It sounds like the fighter patrol is learning about the capabilities of a VRAD," Longshot murdered.

"It won't be patrol fighters for long," Lady Luck assured him. "You can bet they launched everything they had as soon as they picked us up. When seventy fighters and a battle fleet catch up to the others, it won't be a pretty sight."

"The sooner we get in and take out the primary targets, the sooner we can get in on the action," Longshot urged.

"That shouldn't be too long," Blackjack interrupted. "Now keep still and concentrate on what we are doing.

Chapter 6 Part 2

Blake reintegrated into the module and again found himself surrounded by the virtual reality cockpit of the Wildcard and his crew.

"Trouble?" Roulette asked.

"No," Blackjack answered as he resumed command of the ship. "Spectre just wanted to review strategy. We are going to split the two primary targets."

"Let me guess," Roulette mumbled irritably. "We get the more difficult of the two."

"Give that man a cookie," Blackjack teased in an effort to raise his gunner's spirits. "That is what you get for being the best gunner in the squadron."

"Is that what the nuke is for?" Lady Luck asked.

"Absolutely," Blackjack confirmed. "We get to barrel our way through the blazing cannons of the Syndicate gun ships with a thermonuclear warhead in our weapons bay. If we make it through the barrage, we have the honor of launching one of the only two nukes to be used in combat in over a hundred years."

I guess the defense command is not worried about what will happen to the Terran Life Form treaty if we use atomic weaponry," Longshot yawned.

"By using that meteor gun, the Syndicate opened themselves up for nuclear strikes. The TLF treaty allows the use of atomic devices to prevent collisions of celestial bodies with populated areas."

"Meteor gun?"

Blackjack shrugged, though he knew that the motion would not be reproduced in the VR cockpit that his crew saw. "What else would you call it?"

"How about an astronomical projectile cannon?" Longshot asked.

"How about you getting a life," Lady Luck countered.

"Children," Blackjack headed off the verbal attacks before they became distracting. "We have a mission to fly."

Right on cue, Spectre's voice came over the com. "Ghost flight this is lead. Maintain cell formation and configure for silent running."

Blackjack acknowledged and then guided the Wildcard into a line directly behind the Wraith with about five seconds of separation between them. Lady Luck's proximity scan showed that the other VRADs and the comm shuttle had done likewise. By doing this, they presented a minimum profile to any enemy scans coming from ahead. When the formation had been established, all active scans and external emissions were shut down except for the directional tight beam data link between the VRADs and their shuttle relay and the Andromeda. Their scanning systems were operating passively. They were running silent.

Several hours later, Shiloh's voice sounded over the com. "Dixie to lead, we are breaking off with the comm shuttle and setting up the relay point."
"Roger Dixie," Spectre answered. "All elements switch telemetry to relay mode and check responses."
Longshot switched the command datalink to the Wildcard into the relay mode. Instead of directly controlling the VRAD from the Andromeda, the crew would control it via a relayed signal through the comm shuttle. This allowed the VRADs to operate beyond the one light minute range limitation that the quantum second oscillator telemetry system operated on.

"We are in relay mode," Longshot announced. And each member of the crew went through his console checks to verify that everything was operating normally.
The visual scan of the aft cameras showed the comm shuttle and the Dixie falling behind very rapidly. Without a functioning quantum second ocillator unit, the Dixie could only be operated by normal radio transmissions. For that reason it had to stay within close proximity to the command shuttle.

While the Dixie fell behind with the comm shuttle, the rest of the flight tightened their formation. They cruised for several long hours more passing the time as best they could.
When at last Spectre announced thier arrival at the PCTAP, everyone was overly anxious for some activity to begin. The positive control turn around point, was the boundry seperating exercise from the real thing. The PCTAP was the final defense against unauthorized warfare. Should the base fail to give the proper attack orders, the squadron would abort the mission. It was imperative that the order to attack be given prior to the PCTAP. Beyond that point, they could not retreat quickly enough to escape enemy fire.

"Haunted House, this is Ghost Squadron," Spectre called the carrier. "We are approaching the PCTAP."

"Ghost Squadron, this is Haunted House. You are cleared to proceed. Your authorization code is Echo Six Four."

Spectre acknowledged their orders and notified the squadron. "Ghost lead to cell, we are going in. Stick to your stations and watch for the sensor lock."

The four remaining VRADs spent another three hours flying in tight formation without even a sign that the enemy was anywhere near. Then in the fourth hour, faintly at first, the passive sensors began to register a search beam sweeping through space at regular intervals.

"Lead to cell, we have a search beacon at zero mark five degrees, range indeterminable."

"I have it as well," Lady Luck agreed. "It is still too soon to determine their range, but if they are using a standard deep space search routine, I would guess they are about half an hour away."

"They expect something, but not this soon," Longshot recalled from the intelligence briefing.

"The Syndicate views VRADs as a novel but ineffective weapon system. I doubt they even considered that we would be used in this fight, much less that we would deliver the first strike." Roulette's analysis generally proved to be right, and Blackjack hoped that this was not an exception.

"If that is the case, we are going to have a major advantage," he remarked.

"I am also picking up some low power scans," Lady Luck interrupted. "It is the kind consistent with a standard fighter patrol."

"Is there any chance that we have been spotted?"

Lady Luck reassured her commander. "Not at this time. Their power levels are too low to pick up anything smaller than a destroyer at our range."

"I thought we didn't know the range," Longshot reminded her.

"We do have a lower limit on the range," Lady Luck explained. "We know that they are no closer than twenty minutes at our present velocity. They could be further away, but no closer than twenty minutes."

"If we accelerated, we could get closer faster," Longshot suggested.

"That would require increasing the reactor and firing the thrusters," Lady Luck pointed out. "That would make us about fifteen times easier for their scans to pick up. As we are, we resemble nothing more than a small meteor cluster."

"How ironic," Roulette interrupted. "It was a weapon disguised as a meteor that started this whole skirmish, and now we are attacking under the same guise."

Blackjack paused and reflected on his gunner's observation. His thoughts were disrupted when Lady Luck became excited. "They have increased their output in the scanners and have narrowed the search pattern."

"They know something is out here," Blackjack translated. "Stand by to bring the reactor up to combat power."

"Standing by," Longshot responded.

For several long moments they flew in silence awaiting the dread event which would indicate their discovery. When it came, Spectre's voice was the one broke the news even as a warning alarm sounded from Lady Luck's console.

"Lead to cell, we read a locked scan. Launch decoy!"

"Trail to Lead," the commander of the Bandit replied. "Decoy away and singing."

On Lady Luck's sensors, as well as on Roulette's attack scanner and the main viewer, the Quail 7 decoy emitted a signature so strong that it would cover their own and render them practically unseen. "I am picking up acquisition signals on the decoy," Lady Luck informed them.


The view screen showed the decoy speeding away and to the left of their flight path for several long moments when suddenly the blackness of space took on a brilliant violet hue. A beam of light sliced through the darkness and disintegrated the Quail instantly.
The display on the viewer was for the crew's benefit. The actual beam of the particle cannon was colorless and millions of kilometers away.

"Lead to cell, go to full thrust and accelerate to attack profile." Spectre's voice betrayed his excitement. At last the VRADs were going to be tested in real combat. "Lead to three and four, break formation at your discretion."

"There is no reason to run silent now," Lady Luck declared, and brought her ECM gear and defensive scanners on line.

Roulette did the same with his attack sensors. "Fire control is ready."

"Reactor is running at ninety-five percent," Longshot reported. "Shields coming up."
As the shields were activated, a powerful electromagnetic field was generated across the VRADs exposed areas. The field was strong enough to defelct any charged particle not striking within thirty degrees of perpendicular.

With weapons and defenses ready, the quartet of attack drones leaped to their date with the enemy.

Chapter 6 Part 1

Chapter 6

The five VRADs performed a flawless launch. They passed through the carrier's EM shielding and came about on a direct course toward the dark backside of Jupiter. Even at the speeds that they would soon be cruising, the trip to the giant planet would take many long hours.

Under the furious thrust of the fusion reactor that was the VRAD's heart, the robot craft accelerated to cruise velocity and began their long flight. They flew in the conventional V wing formation with the command shuttle, also a drone operated from the Andromeda's own bridge, in the slot of the flight. The quintet of deadly drones made a mad dash through deep space tethered to their commands by a tight, telemetry signal.

Deep within the belly of the giant carrier, the VRAD crews of Ghost Squadron went through their post launch checks to verify operation. In module number two, Blackjack and his crew were settling down for the long voyage. Roulette had fired the KW-4's cap and Lady Luck had verified their defensive systems by blasting it into nothingness.

Predictably, the other crews were doing likewise, and their activities had not gone unnoticed by the Wildcard's sensory systems. "Dixie to Wraith," Shiloah's voice sounded over the intercom from VR module 5. "All checks are complete and we are dropping out of formation to join with the comm shuttle."

Spectre's own voice replied. "Roger, Dixie, we copy your maneuver. How do we look from trail?"

There was a pause as the trail, or last ship in the formation, observed the rest of the flight. Finally she answered crisply: "all units look good from our vantage."

"Roger," Specter confirmed. "Lead to Ghost Squadron, we are several hours from refueling, but I want to go over a few things while we are in cruise. After we refuel, I don't want any mistakes. We can't afford any. Acknowledge lead."

"Two," Blackjack responded indicating that his crew were listening. The Bandit and the Storm respond likewise.

"Three."

"Four."

Finally the Dixie closed the acknowledgment. "Trail."

The squadron commander addressed them all over the intermodule intercom. "All right, folks, I want this thing to go smoothly. We have all trained well and there is no reason to be afraid. Your lives are not in danger and that is one more advantage that we have. Let the enemy jocks be afraid. They are the ones who could get killed."

Specter continued. "We will make our refueling runs in flight order. Keep an interval of five seconds between each of you and keep your attention on your task. Any break in formation for any reason should pull up and reverse course to starboard. If possible fall into the back of the trail and make a second attempt to refuel. If the malfunction is severe, pull into formation with trail and try to work it out. If you lose your 'go' status, notify the squadron lead and assume supportive posture. Lead transfer will go in flight order. Acknowledge, lead."

"Two."

"Three."

"Four."

"Trail."

"After refueling, we will go to cell formation and run silent. That should hide our approach as much as possible. They know we are coming, but they don't know when or how we will attack. If I were in their place, I would expect an all out attack by a carrier and battle group. There is every reason to believe that we might catch them with their pants down."

"The first sign that they have located us will be when their broad scan changes to a tight scan or even a tracking signal. When that happens, we will launch the decoy to draw out their fighters and tease that big gun into firing. Once the decoy is lost, we will have to burn at full power to get within its minimum effective range. If we can mix it up with their fighters, they will have to fore go any shoot and forget weapons and manually track us. That will also help." The pep talk was precise and to the point.

Spectre did not wast time by carrying on on the radio. He had said what was necessary and left it at that. The squadron knew how the chain of command would regress if the Wraith were disabled. He felt certain that Blackjack, the next most senior crew commander, could take over the mission if necessary.

The squadron had also been given their contingency orders if they had a malfunction. If their ship became dysfunctional, it was better for the VRAD to pull out of the fight than to lose control over it and let the enemy capture it.

The time to refuel came several long hours into the flight. Far behind them, the Andromeda was burning her own reactors as hard as she could to join in on the upcoming battle. The squadron of VRADs approached the huge gas giant's dark side and prepared for their refueling run. "Wraith to Ghost Squadron, we are at the initial point for the refueling run."

Upon hearing Spectre's announcement, Roulette made a final entry into the navigational system and Blackjack's HUD altered to show him the necessary course changes that would place them on the refueling track.

Slowly the Wildcard came about onto a course that dove into the outer layers of the Jupiter's hydrogen atmosphere.

"Refueling run checklist," Lady Luck announced. She began reading off a list of steps necessary to take to insure a safe and successful refueling run. It was her task to read the checklist because the her position was relatively unused during refueling. "Reactor at fifty percent," she ordered.

"Reactor at fifty," Longshot replied. Because they were taking on raw hydrogen, it was a safety measure to reduce the reactor's heat and static electricity emissions. The last thing they wanted was for the hydrogen in their fuel cells to ignite.

"Set load selector to scoop," she continued.

"Refueling selector set to scoop," Longshot answered.

"Set holding tanks to purge."

"Tanks set for purge."

"Verify Nav course." Roulette compared his readings with the sensory positions of several beacon satellites in Jupiter's orbit. Everything appeared to be within acceptable parameters.

"Nav shows course and timing okay."

"Control surfaces preliminary." Blackjack flipped a switch on his console and began making motions with his yoke and steering pedals. Though in the vacuum of space, the atmospheric control surfaces had no effect, the feedback systems told him that they were in operation.

"Control surfaces operable," he said as he returned the ship to normal control.

"Ghost Squadron, this is lead" Spectre's voice came over the com. "We are commencing our refueling run in ten seconds. Maintain a five second interval for safety."

On the Wildcard's instrumentation panel, the sensor image of the Wraith moved away and dove into the planet's outer atmospheric layers. Five seconds later, Blackjack fired the thrusters and brought the Wildcard around , lining the nav cursors up on his HUD.

"We are I P inbound crew," he advised. "Decent attitude is within limits and our glide path is stable."

"I show lead's penetration of the first layer in twelve seconds," Roulette stated. Precisely twelve seconds later, the image of the Wraith wavered as it entered the Jovian atmosphere.

"Atmospheric in eight seconds," Roulette announced, "two, one control surfaces."

"Control surfaces," Blackjack responded as the VRAD switched from deep space to atmospheric mode. In truth they had been in the thinner part of the planets atmosphere for the last five seconds, that was a fairly deep range where the air was so thin that the aircraft's control surfaces were ineffective, so the ship did not activate its control surfaces until it was in thicker air.

"Steerability check," Lady Luck ordered.

Blackjack performed response tests on the pitch yaw and roll motions of the craft. When he was satisfied of the ship's performance, he confirmed the test results. "Steering check good."

"Telemetry," she continued with the checklist.

"Data link secure," Longshot replied. "No atmospheric interference."

"Track position?"

Roulette responded almost immediately. "I show a good entry. We are on track and on time. I have a positive ID on all flight members."

Lady Luck resumed her checklist. "Proceed with refueling. Thrusters to idle."

Blackjack complied. "Thrusters at idle."

"Shunt start scrams," she ordered. Longshot made some adjustments on his controls and rerouted some power from the reactor to the atmospheric scram jets. He was rewarded with operation indicators. "Scrams on line," he stated.

"Accelerate to ram refueling speed."

"Blackjack throttled forward as the secondary engines drove the VRAD to hypersonic velocities, slamming huge amounts of hydrogen into the ram scoops where the fuel was compressed and stored in high pressure holding tanks.

Blackjack kept the craft lined on his Nav cursor for many long moments. Perhaps an hour later, Longshot announced their status. "Holding tanks full," he said.

Lady Luck recited the last few steps of the refueling checklist. "Proceed with track egress procedures."

"Egress window coming up in nine seconds," Roulette announced.

"Accelerate to maximum scram," Lady Luck dictated.

"Scrams at MRT," Blackjack replied when the engines were at maximum rated thrust. "Approaching mach nine."

"Reactor at seventy percent."

"Coming up to seventy," Longshot replied. "Fuel pressure steady."

"Egress window is at thirty two degrees up pitch in four seconds," Roulette advised, "two, one, execute."

Blackjack nosed the Wildcard up and the VRAD began a smooth climb.

"Control surfaces interplanetary," Lady Luck continued.

"Control surfaces interplanetary," Blackjack concurred.

"Thrusters normal?"

Blackjack verified that the scram jets had shut down and the thrusters had come online. "Thrusters normal."

"Continue to egress point and resume flight plan." Lady Luck closed her log book.

"Egress in three seconds," Roulette announced. "We are on course and on time."

Several minutes later, Spectre's voice came over the intercom. "That was very pretty people. Let's hope the rest of our day goes that well."

"Now I want everyone to line up in cell formation and go to cruise. Maintain one minute of orbital standard separation. Otherwise, we have a good long ride ahead of us so if you want to clear off feel free to do so as long as your autopilot is operating." "I would like to see all commanders in the ready lounge in ten minutes."

Longshot was the first person to clear off, or take a break. "Blackjack, I have to clear off for relief."

"Fine, Ben," the commander said breaking tradition by using the flight engineer's actual name during the mission. "I am going to put the ship on auto. Lady Luck and Roulette are to stay on line until Longshot or myself returns."

Roulette and Lady luck acknowledged and Blackjack followed Longshot out of the VR module. Blake watched as his flight engineer trotted to the latrine. Ben must have been needing to go badly.

Blake entered the ready lounge and found two of his counterparts already waiting. When Major Duncan entered, he seemed quite pleased. "That is one of the best refueling runs we have made on this tour," he beamed. "Everyone looked fairly sharp."

Spectre's face became grim. "Now is the dangerous part. Don't let your people fall asleep on the job. We have several hours before we come within the enemy's scan range, so if they want to relax let them, but when we hit the PCTAP, the positive control turn around point, make sure that they are on their toes."

He opened a portfolio and took a set of cards out. "This mission has a high security level, so I want you to load these chips into your modules. Up until now we have been running on standard data link security, but as we said earlier, we can't afford to lose a VRAD so that it could be picked up. The Syndicate still can't quite match our technology, and we don't want to give them any help."

When one of the cards was passed, Blake took it and examined it quite closely. The label on the card's cover was identified with the number, two, coordinating to the module number that they were flying. "That is all I had for you," Spectre concluded. "Watch each other's backs, and don't lose your ship if you can help it."

The group of pilots filed out and Blake fell in line. He was almost out the door when Duncan tapped his shoulder. "Blackjack, could you wait up?" Blake waited as Spectre gathered up his materials. "Since we are the ones who are going to penetrate the enemy base, I thought we might try to decide how to go about it."

"I noticed that you have us loaded with a nuke," Blake said. Does that mean that you want us to go after one of the primary targets?"

"Definately," Duncan answered. "We have one too. The Defense Command only authorized two for this mission. If we split them up, it increases the chances that we can deliver one of them on target."

"It also increases the chances of us losing on of them too." Blake pointed out. "That is true," Duncan conceded, "but to be successful we only have to take out one of the two primary targets. If we take out the meteor gun, they can't fire it, and if we take out that solar collector, they won't have the power to fire their meteor gun."

"Meteor gun?" Duncan shrugged. "What else would you call it?" Blake nodded. "Okay, a meteor gun then." They can't fire the gun on reactors?

"Probably not, or else why would they have the collector out there in the first place?" Blake tugged at his chin.

"So do you want to split up and go after the targets at the same time?"

"That would split their attention." Duncan had a knack for getting right to the bottom of the issue.

"I guess your right. Which one do you want us to go after?"

"Actually I want you to go after the gun. Roulette is the better gunner and the meteor gun is most likely going to be the more difficult target. We will go after the collector. The blasted thing is over five kilometers across. If we can't hit it, I will personally serve the whole squadron a prime buffet at our next shore leave."

"Who has the decoy?"

"Bandit has it. They will launch it when we think the ememy has a solid scan and is going into acquisition on their particle cannon. By the time they get it recharged, we should be mixing it up with their fighters. Then if I am right, they will try to move their battle craft in front of us to block our path. We can skip around them and attack the main base while Bandit and Storm keep the gunboats busy."

Duncan noted that Blake was frowning. "What's bothering you?"

"A lot of our success depends on how well we avoid taking damage. A single hit could conceivably cost us a VRAD."

"Not from a fighter," Duncan said confidently. "The VRADs can withstand several direct hits from fighters without losing anything."

"Our shield are not designed to stand up against gunships," Blake pointed out.

"Don't let them get a good shot at you," Duncan cautioned. "Our shields will turn glancing shots aside. Don't let them hit you solidly. That won't be too hard, because we are going to give them a bloody nose before they can get too many shots at us. Did you noticed the SRAMs in your weapons bay?"

"I was about to ask about them."

"Well the Bandit is carrying a set of mini-HERCULES in addition to the SRAMs and the Storm is carrying a chaff net. Between the two of them, the gun ships should be so confused that they won't be able to get a solid lock on us until our SRAMs are slamming into their hulls. If we do it right, we can disable a healthy portion of their fire control systems."

"You have gone over this with the others?" Blake asked referring to his fellow commanders.

"Yes," Duncan assured him. "You would have heard it as well if you had not been late to the pre-launch briefing."

"We were not late," Blake complained. "We were here exactly when you told us to be here."

"In the military, being on time is late," Duncan reminded him. Blake knew that the major was right. He had long been told to always be early.

"Don't sweat it, Blake. Just get back to your children and get them ready for the show."

Blake nodded and followed Duncan out into the corridor which led back to the VR modules. The audible throb in the corridor indicated that the huge carrier was running at near flank speed to try to close the distance with the enemy. He stopped in front of module number two and removed the card from it's plastic cover. The translucent crystal could contained over ten terabytes of information. This particular program was nothing more than a complex mathematical function which synchronized the data link frequency shifting and encrypting to prevent jamming of interception. Blake slipped the card into a slot on the module's master control panel and opened the door.