:: 29/12/2000 ::
We were told to launch immediately after we exited hyperspace. The Turanic fleet was still unaware of our presence, perhaps the EM radiation from Sheil'an crippled their sensor net, but we were to be ready at a moment's notice.
The simulators gave us hell in our mission training. Commander Paktu was the one in charge of designing the programs, and we barely accomplished our missions because of major "twists" that she enjoyed to add in. For example, one time the base was almost halfway levelled, when a Taiidan Missile Destroyer emerged from the horizon and slaughtered our battle group. Another time, a battalion of twenty Ion Array Frigates hypered on top of our Capital ship group and destroyed all of them, leaving us stranded in the system. These surprises prevented us from winning many scenarios, but the commander maintained, "We must be ready for any circumstances."
It turned out that Nolan was the one cut from active duty on this mission. Apparently, his psyche evaluation during the last debriefing was less than promising. Though I agreed that he wasn't in good shape, I still sympathized with his being shunned from combat, he who was the real warmonger among us. He was to remain on the Angel Base for the duration of the mission.
When we launched, we directed our Multi-gun Corvettes towards the Lazarus and her fleet. I was shocked. There were three Repair Corvettes using their repair beams on a smoking Frigate, the Carrier was badly scarred but appeared stable, and the fighter escort was less than usual for a patrolling carrier group. I saw the RCs, named the Surgeon, Operator, and Nurse use green beams to patch up sections of the Ion frigate Lazarus' Teeth, fascinated by how they recreated patches of the hull from where there were none.
What little I know of the technology that allows RCs, Support Frigates, and recently Troop Transports, to complete this task is enough to make me revere those pieces of equipment. The beam is a kind of reverse working Phased Disassembly Array on the Resource Collectors, only instead of breaking materials into component atoms like the PDA, the repair beams use stray atoms to create new materials, which are used to replace any kind of hull makeup. It can be used to do anything from repairing a fractured power core to reinforcing a secondary hull. Quite interesting.
I got an opportunity to witness this up close when the Angel Base arrived on the scene tending to the damaged ships. A few moments before this, Captain Naabal in Halo 1 (though our official squadron names for the mission had changed, for example I was now Halo 5, we addressed ourselves as our old names to prevent complications,) opened an open comm. signal to the Lazarus. "This is Halo 1 of the Angel Squadron Deep Space Combat Force. Please respond."
The reply was prompt. "This is Rear Admiral Soban of the Lazarus. Thanks for coming, Halo Squadron. We could use the escort." I watched as fifteen Mark II Bombers launched from the four fighter bays of the Carrier. "The 11th is ready. You may begin the mission at your discretion. When you're done, I do hope your men would care to join us aboard our ship. You have suffered much from these last few weeks."
There were cries of agreements among the squadron pilots, and Captain Naabal replied, "We would be honoured. Just your praise is reward enough."
The bombers split up into five flight groups, each in Delta formation. As the Captain assigned us to each flight group, I realized how small this squadron had become. There was the Captain and Lt. Cm. Liir Hra, who stayed in their small group with the other higher-ups, there were the two robots, and then there was me, Nolan, and Jacyn. Though the robots were becoming more approachable, that severely limited the number of people I could befriend, now that Jude and Alia were dead. And I wasn't going to be any kinder to Jacyn. Hopefully, after this campaign was over, we could be reinforced by young, human pilots.
I was assigned to Group 3, and my Corvette sped towards these three ships. As I did so, I looked back at the rest of the cockpit. My four gunners were using what space there was back there. Each of them wore a small visor over one eye, which was perhaps connected to cameras on the turrets, and sat in small seats that were circled by a control panel, which included a small joystick. They were in control of four of the six turrets, two on the top and two from the belly, which could swivel around a full 360 degrees to wreak havoc on any enemy ships in their range. As for myself, I controlled the other two turrets, which only pointed straight forward. That way, even I had partial control over this ship's arsenal. Though it was a bit roomier than a Fighter, I still felt cramped in this place.
"You OK back there?" I said, addressing the gunners. One of them responded, "Quiet, please. You're ruining our concentration."
This comment annoyed me. "But there aren't any bogies in the area."
"Try saying that when we're in-atmosphere, and this'll be a very short mission."
Oh, well. Gunners were known for their perfectionist attitudes, even out of combat.
When we got within a few meters of the Bombers, which were only half the length of my Corvette, one of them opened a channel. "This is Nine of the 11th Planetary Bombardment Squadron. Let's get this show on the road."
"Roger, Nine. I see your designations are Nine, Ten, and Eleven, but what is your common squadron name?"
Eleven, a female voice, replied. "We prefer to be called Eleven squadron, for simplicity."
"So, you would be named Eleven Eleven?"
"Bite me, gunner boy."
I turned to face the icy visage of Sheil'an, and ordered my flight group to follow. We were engulfed in the cold atmosphere and began our attack on the base.
The base was on the dayside of the planet. It was a cloudless day, revealing the twin suns of the star system. The light reflected off the snow and ice, creating tremendous glare for our ships. Fortunately, our phototropic canopies reacted to the light by dimming, lessening the stress on my eyes. I found it amusing that not even the combined heat of the two suns could melt this planet.
That was our job.
My control panel had a 3-D geographical map tracing our route. I was positioned just above my three Bombers. The four other groups were assembled this way, and the whole group was in a Delta formation, with commander Liir Hra's group at the point. A few hundred meters in front of us was Captain Naabal's solitary gunboat, rounding out the pack. Our ETA to the base was 30 seconds, and there was no sign of enemy forces launching.
Our leader began delegating the fleet. "Groups One and Two, loop in to arrive on the east side of the base. Three and Four, go from the west side. Five, you guys enter from the south, straight ahead. I'll set up some cover fire to protect your approach vector."
Obligingly, I and my bombers banked to port. We began on a long loop that would bring us in to the western portion of the starport. When we got close, I scanned the immediate area. There were two missile turrets, about five meters tall, but unmanned, and they were already craning their mechanical heads to face us. I began on a descending course to assault them. "Gunners Two and Four, target any missiles they fire. You other two attack either turret. I'm heading for the first one. The first and closer turret fired rounds of blue flames at us. My gunners were picking them off nicely. The other two and myself were firing bullets into the firing bay of the turret. We hit one of the unfired missiles, and the thing blew apart internally.
An explosion rocked the corvette. I looked out the canopy. It came from the other turret. As I turned to face it, I turned back to the gunners and yelled, "What the hell was that?" Gunner Two (I didn't care to learn their names) replied apologetically, "Sorry, boss. Hit a blind spot."
I frowned, but it was a valid excuse. "Well, at least they weren't attacking the Bombers." Fire was concentrated on the next turret. Before it blew, it launched three missiles, one at each of my Bombers. "Well," I continued, "not yet." I turned to face them. Two of the missiles were destroyed quickly, but the third one continued towards Eleven. I fired, and the projectile turned into a mass of red light and debris, which Eleven flew through unscathed.
"Having fun, Eleven Eleven?"
"Shut up, bullet boy."
As we were approaching the heart of the base, I noticed the hangars where the convoy ships and their escorts of fighters and corvettes were docked. I lifted up as the Bombers released their blue orbs of destruction. The ceiling of the hangar caved in, crushing all the ships inside. Even if there were survivors, they wouldn't be taking off soon.
While we rained plasma terror on another hangar, a convoy ship and four fighters emerged. Four Fighters, even Turanic ones, would have raised hell on a lone fighter, but I was in a Corvette. A Multi-Gun Corvette. My four gunners each picked off a fighter quickly enough, two exploding in the air, the other two crashing into the frozen plains of Sheil'an.
The bombers got above the convoy ship, and let loose with their weapons. The bombs blew the ship in half, each section burning red at the separation point. They crashed and filled the air beneath us with fire.
It was a beautiful sight. Blue explosions streaked with red blossomed from the ground at every section of the base. Now an X of five Fighters approached my group. My gunners took three, and the other two continued towards the Bombers. They attacked the lead ship, Eleven Nine, and holes riddled his hull. I made a U-turn maneuver to face the attackers, and got onto the side of one of them. I banged my ship into his, and it collided with the other enemy ship. They merged together and exploded.
Then an opening formed in the ground, and a gunner tower twenty meters tall rose from it. It had four automatic guns firing at our forces. Somewhere in the distance, one of the Bombers went down; judging by their general location I assumed it was one from Group 2.
"All gunners, fire at the support beams!"
As we all began firing at the same metal pillar to collapse the tower, I called for captain Naabal to help. "Halo 1, this is Halo 5. Uh, Nine, sir."
"What's up, Jake?"
"You mind helping me with this tower? After all, you're not escorting anyone."
"And just when I was beginning to take a nap too…"
I smiled. Maybe he wasn't as uptight as I thought he was. Soon both of our Corvettes were firing at the one beam. Though our bullets continuously chewed away at the beam, we were only halfway through. Then I stopped firing. I looked at my control panel, and the words "Ammunition Expired" blinking on my main screen. I heard several colourful expletives from my gunners, but I was more captivated by another sight. The turrets had taken notice of our two Corvettes, and they were slowly coming into aim.
I yelled over the comm. "Captain, move!" The turret continued on its path, so I took it upon myself to take action. I turned to the Captain's corvette and initiated thrusters. I rammed his Corvette away just in time to miss the flurry of bullets that entered the area we were just in. His craft rotated chaotically through the air until he regained control and moved towards me.
"Unorthodox, but good work, Sjet."
The turrets were tracking us to our new position, and I knew we wouldn't be able to bug out in time. Then five yellow streaks hit one of the supporting girders and the entire structure toppled down to the ground below. I turned to see the ship that saved us.
"A little early, eh, Sergeant?"
The Apocalypse Treason hovered close to me, and Sgt. Gaalsien replied, "We aren't ones to keep waiting, fighter jock."
With that, they descended to the ground and retracted their landing gear. The main hatch of the missile corvette, recently painted our squadron colors, white with the three black stripes to replace the garish camouflage paint job that the Turanic were fond of, opened and twelve soldiers spilled out. Though the sergeant was of Kiith Gaalsien, almost all his troops were, not surprisingly, from the Kiith Soban, the Blood Kiith, shown by their insignias stamped on their enviro-suits. They headed to the hangars, where they fired off green rounds of energy pulses to kill the frantic Turanic pilots. Wish our ships had lasers, I thought.
An urgent message came over the comm. "Halo Squadron, report to Grid K-19. There are still three convoy ships trying to escape. I estimate that our Capital Ships won't make it in time to stop them."
Liir Hra seemed duly agitated. Though I knowingly had no ammo, I could still contribute to this final showdown. I turned to my gunners. "You guys want to take a ride?" They shook their heads.
I grinned an evil grin. "Pity I'm the one flying."
They swore.
The three ships were bigger than the other ones. They were also escorted by nine Missile Corvettes. Using the Corvette's powerful scanners, I found that they were carrying support personnel, armor plating, communication arrays, everything a decent warship would need, plus weapons for its crew. We couldn't let these ones get away. The base was pounded; the defense networks and any decent combat craft were destroyed, so our whole force, Bombers and corvettes, were trailing them. The Bombers were at a real disadvantage, since they could only fire downwards, so they attempted to get above the fleeing vessels.
The five corvettes that still had guns full of bullets fired and killed two of the missile Corvettes. Four of them turned to face us, the other three stayed with the convoy. I tried to stall the four, and ordered anyone with weapons to stay with the convoy. The four fired three missiles each. By shutting off power to the turrets and all other weapons systems and diverted them to the engines. Doing this, I was more or less able to outrun the missiles, but they remained on my tail. I banked towards one of the Corvettes, and did a loop around the ship. The missiles, not as maneuverable as I, smashed into the corvette and detonated.
I turned to another one and got on its side. Because of its inferior armor, I found no trouble tearing a large line into its side with my starboard side, and since we were in very thin air, the pilots slowly died. Not the best way to go, but they shouldn't have pissed us off.
As for the other two, they lost their courage and retreated. A shallow victory there, but better than a failure.
I sped towards the final three convoy craft. My squad mates had downed one, and were working on a second one. The air seemed to be thinning outside my cockpit, so I queried the computer. "Computer, how long until the convoy can enter hyperspace, and show me the most possible course."
A map of the star system and the gravity fields exerted by the heavenly bodies came up on my screen. A purple line was drawn to a point outside all these fields. "ETA for hyperspace is one minute, fifteen seconds."
The Missile Corvettes were beginning to fire at our ships again. This was a futile choice of action, however, since the missiles were being pulled down by the planet's gravity and burning up in the atmosphere. One more ship was destroyed. Only one more to go.
But it had thirty seconds until it could jump to hyperspace. We kept on firing, but it remained intact.
Fifteen seconds…
Ten…
Five…
A blue wall began to open in front of the convoy ship. "No!" I yelled. But then, the wall dissipated. Electricity danced over the hull and the ship began spouting flames from all of its orifices. It then collapsed into a ball of shrapnel and flame.
The fleet stood there, dumbstruck. No one spoke, until 1R-F's robotic voice played over the comm. "I guess non one told him that EM radiation interferes with hyperspace engines." The captain began laughing. I joined in, and so did Jacyn and Liir Hra. Even the robots feigned amusement. When the Bomber pilots joined in, the frequencies were jammed with senseless laughter.
Something we hadn't heard in what felt like a very long time.
