Sol System
Oort Cloud
Saturday, 7:39 AM, Earth Eastern Standard Time
"Come on Fish, we need to do what we can to stop this battle cruiser." DeathRay bobbed and weaved his fighter-mode Ares-T fighter at top speed across the surface of the enemy ship, firing missiles at anything that his QMs suggested might be a vital system. His only hopes were that they could hit a major power system that would cause secondary explosions, which in turn would hopefully debilitate the ship.
"Two fighters against a battle cruiser sounds a bit epic to me, DeathRay." Fish dropped to bot mode, clanking into the hull of the ship to avoid the AA fire stations on the aft section near the hangar bay. She ran up behind a cannon, tearing the barrel out of its mount, and then she kicked the power supply with her mechanized foot. When that didn't work, she went to her DEG. The box spewed vaporized hull plating and then burned through to the next layer of armor. "DeathRay! Our weapons are too small. We need a nuke."
"Fresh out," Jack replied. He decided that the best way to do damage would have to be from the inside and that they needed to change their approach.
Candis, can you find us a way in?
I'm scanning. Nothing is deploying from this ship, and it seems locked down tight.
Of course it is.
"We need to make a hole, Fish."
The ship shuddered, and out of the corner of his eye, Jack could see an eruption of orange and blue plasma spewing from the starboard side of the ship. Debris spun out from the opening into space, and then the plasma dissipated.
"What was that?" Fish asked.
"Boland, this is Penzington, copy?"
"Roger that, Penzington. What's up?"
"I just flew a Lorda through two bulkheads into the hyperdrive jaunt projector. Did you happen to notice an explosion out there?" Penzington asked.
"Uh, yeah. It blew out of the hull on the starboard side. I thought that might have been you. We're coming in. Where are you now?"
"I'm about four decks below the center of that blast trying to make my way to the aux prop control room."
"Understood. We'll make for the sublight prop power through the doorway you made for us." Jack banked his snub-nosed fighter over a communications dish and throttled toward the blast area.
"You with me, Fish?"
"Got your wing, DeathRay."
"What the hell was that!" Elle Ahmi stormed onto the bridge of the Phlegra up to the ship's captain.
"The jaunt drive power plant just blew out, General," the man replied reluctantly.
"Did we take a hit?"
"No, we didn't. We are protected fairly well." The captain seemed flummoxed.
"Captain, I've got a report from the maintence deck."
"Go, XO."
"Seems that one of the Lorda troop lifters went nuts and flew through several bulkheads at max thrust and crashed into the jaunt containment cylinder," the XO explained.
"No!" Ahmi screamed. Then she toggled her DTM communications channel open. "Doctor, this is Ahmi. Where is the prisoner?" There was no response.
"General?"
"I should have killed her myself!" Ahmi had her AIC open the ship's 1MC and then announced, "All hands, this is General Ahmi. There is an intruder aboard, a young-looking female with long, black hair. She is to be killed on sight! Find her, now!"
"Captain! Two marine FM-12s have penetrated into the hull breach."
"No! Goddamnit, no!" Ahmi pounded her leather-gloved fist into her hand.
"Normal space, Captain!" the Blair's navigator warned Captain Walker.
"Multiple targets, ma'am."
"Fire at will, Ensign Blake!" Fullback checked her DTM and mapped out a plan. First thing she had to do was to get the ship's mecha unloaded and into the fight. "Air Boss?"
"The Killers are out, Captain. Drop tubes are firing as we speak."
"That ought to help a little. Order the Killers to drop to the line and help out the tanks."
"Aye, ma'am."
"Okay, we need to draw some fire away from the Madira and give them time to catch their breath." Sharon studied the red force distribution for a brief moment and decided to go after the heavy hitter first. "All firing solutions focus on the hauler. All missiles, all DEGs, and all cannons fire at will at the hauler."
"Ares squadrons away, Captain!" the air boss notified her.
"Ground Boss?"
"Drop tanks are going. We'll need a few more minutes. Then we can unload the AEMs and the AAIs." The ground combat commander continued tapping controls at his console.
"Okay. Nav, give me a run on the hauler at full forward."
"Aye, ma'am."
The ship screamed from a violent impact and jerked back and forth so fast the inertial fields couldn't dampen out the rapid change in acceleration. A second later, the ship righted itself, but there were warning bells and klaxons sounding.
"What the hell was that?" the XO exclaimed.
"I've got a debris field erupting from the moon planetoid at the railgun sight, Captain," the STO said. Sharon checked the countdown clock in her DTM, and it was right on schedule. She had just assumed that the nukes had done the job.
"What? The nukes didn't do it?" the COB asked.
"Apparently not. The thing was pretty deep. My guess is that we caved the top of the tunnel in and then melted it shut. The Seppies must have just fired the mass driver right through it, clearing out the hole," the STO replied.
"Shit! It's a double barrel! Nav, hyperspace jaunt, now!"
"No can do, ma'am. That hit got us on the aft section and blew out several power junctions. The SIFs were still full front for our attack on the hauler," the STO interrupted. "Sublight is still up."
"Evasive maneuvers! Now! Try to get that hauler between us and the moon."
"Madira, we're getting chewed to hell and gone down here!" Colonel Warboys yelled into the net at the ground boss up top. "The air support is so out numbered that they are getting picked off one by one, and the Warlords are completely fucking pinned down!"
Warboys' tank was in bot mode and leaning up against a crater rim, and his big cannon nose peeked over the edge, twisting back and forth looking for targets. There were plenty of them—on all sides. The Warlords had pushed hard through the line to make a hole for Major Roberts' AEM recon team to sneak into the facility. Once they had gotten through, the tankheads had found themselves behind enemy lines and seriously flanked.
The only cover that they had managed to find was what appeared to be a recycling dump, which was effectively a junkyard of scrap materials that the Seppies hadn't found a use for yet. The refuse was scattered about a man-made crater about fifty meters wide and about five meters deep at the bottom. The scattered debris had come in useful for cover. The tankheads had hefted onto the rim several girders, discarded catwalks, crunched-up metal containers, and anything else that they could dig up to give them a little more cover.
They had managed to construct four quick mecha-sized foxholes at the three, six, nine, and twelve o'clock positions around the crater rim.
"Warlord One, we understand your situation and will get help to you as soon as we can. Shit is thick all over, Mason. Do what you can and keep your fucking head down," the ground boss of the Madira replied to him.
"Fuck. Warlord Two, I'm getting way too many red dots on your side of the rim."
"There are too many targets, One. Prepare to be overrun! Guns, guns, guns!"
"Dawgs, Saviors, we sure could use a hand!"
"Roger that . . . fuck . . . Warlord One," Poser responded to the tankheads' leader over the tac-net. A blast from one of the three enemy Gnats on her tail pinged into her nose SIFs, but the armor held. "Saviors, Saviors, do you copy?"
"Go Poser, this is Skinny!" the leader of the marine FM-12 squadron replied.