Strong and Courageous Page 2

  All personnel that stood had braced to attention and brought their hands to their brows in salute. David quickly brought his hand up and crisply returned their salutes. “As you were.”

  As he looked around the bridge one more time, a smile flashed onto David’s face. He was so proud of his crew, of his ship. At times like this, he could almost feel his father and Sheila standing there with him. Focusing his mind back on the task at hand, he walked over to the CO’s and XO’s chairs. Aibek had already taken his position in the XO’s chair, but the young lieutenant that had stood watch still held the conn.

  “Lieutenant Jackson, I have the conn,” David said.

  The young man quickly stood and stepped to the side. “Colonel Cohen has the conn, aye, sir.”

  Sitting down in the CO’s chair, David glanced at Aibek. “Settled in, XO?”

  The large Saurian grinned. “Yes, sir. Ready to go, sir.”

  “Outstanding.”

  David looked up at his tactical monitor, a display that was configurable by him to show information he wanted to consume during a battle or at any point. He liked to see metrics on propulsion, shield strength, and weapons status, and as such had programmed his monitor to display them. As he reviewed the screen, everything was showing normal, charged, and ready.

  David punched a button on his chair for 1MC, the ship-wide intercom. “General Quarters! General Quarters! This is the commanding officer. Man your battle stations! I say again, man your battle stations! Set material condition one throughout the ship! This is not a drill! I say again, this is not a drill!” David used a set of words he had now uttered numerous times on the Lion. As he spoke, the alarm klaxon wailed throughout the massive vessel, and the lights on the bridge dimmed to a blue color. CDF studies said that the blue hue helped personnel concentrate better; he didn’t know if that was really accurate, but it did help to brighten up their tactical displays.

  “TAO, load all magnetic cannons with armor-piercing rounds.”

  “Aye, sir, loading all magnetic cannons with armor-piercing rounds!” Ruth said.

  “Navigation, plot a Lawrence drive jump to the coordinates supplied by the CSV Oxford.”

  “Aye, sir!” Hammond said.

  “Communications, signal our escorting destroyers to match our Lawrence drive coordinates; they will follow us through on our signal.”

  “Yes, sir!” Taylor said.

  His initial orders delivered, David sat back in his seat. He knew that, right now, the flight crews for their fighters and bombers would be running like mad readying the nearly two hundred combat spacecraft they carried for the fight to come. Thousands of crewmen and women would be donning firefighting gear, manning damage control teams, and preparing for the battle to come. This is the hardest time. The clock ticking was down to engagement; knowing what was happening and having to adjust mentally took iron will. They had twenty-eight minutes to go before launching into the unknown.

  Hassan Amir stood in the ready room for the fighter squadron he commanded, the Grim Reapers, known as the Reapers for short. Compared to the smaller carriers he’d served on, the Lion’s pilots’ ready rooms were the picture of luxury. Large, comfortable leather recliners dotted the room, along with the latest in holoprojector technology for fully three-dimensional briefings. But regardless of where they sat waiting for the next battle or how comfortable the chairs were, nothing stopped the feeling of dread right before combat. That feeling never goes away. But roaring into space at maximum speed makes up for it. Stepping up to the podium, he began the briefing.

  “Grim Reapers…we’re about to get a shot at something we can only dream of most of the time.” Amir flashed a warrior’s smile. “The Lion of Judah and her battle group will be engaging the LX Tours… a frontline League fleet carrier.”

  There were whoops and hollers from the pilots; Amir saw faces of near glee staring back at him. It was rare to get to engage a League fleet carrier.

  “They don’t have many because they throw most of their resources into thousands of battleships, cruisers, and destroyers, and overwhelm their enemies with numbers. So getting to polish one off will be a true accomplishment.” Amir pulled up a holographic projection of the Tours. “Take special note of her point defense emplacements; our job, besides escorting the heavy bombers in, will be to fire decoys into the fray so that her point defense loses effectiveness. Each decoy it shoots down is one less fighter or bomber we’ll lose.”

  Amir stepped back from the podium, looking out at the other eleven pilots in his squadron. “Above all, stay safe. The last eight weeks have been a time we have not experienced before. Do not allow complacency to enter your minds. No matter how superior our technology, you must respect the League’s pilots. If you do not, they will use that against us and destroy us. Any questions?”

  “Sir, any information on enemy CSP?” a pilot in the back of the room shouted. CSP stood for combat space patrol.

  “None, Lieutenant. The Oxford’s sensors couldn’t get a read on fighter craft already launched. We must assume they will have at least a squadron on standard CSP, and another couple on ready five.”

  “The Tours has four hundred combat spacecraft on it, correct, sir?” another pilot called out.

  “That is correct.”

  “Sir, do we think they could scramble enough to make this a real fight? We’re down two squadrons.”

  “We prevent that by hitting hard first. Our bombers will be focusing on the flight bays of the Tours. As long as we disable two out of its four main launching points, they will be unable to launch enough fighters and bombers to engage effectively.”

  “And if we don’t disable those launching points, sir?”

  “Then we will have a target-rich environment, Captain.” Amir smiled wide as he spoke. “Any other questions?”

  The room was silent; no further questions were asked. “Very well. Man your fighters! I want everyone on ready five in the next fifteen minutes. Move out, pilots! Godspeed!”

  2

  Thirty-four minutes had passed by on the bridge of Lion of Judah, and David was as anxious as ever. The calm that comes over me during battle isn’t there before it. When he checked over his command display one more time, the readout showed that the ship was ready to jump, all systems were nominal, and the weapon systems were active. All that remained was to give the order to engage.

  David looked down, bowing his head. Before every battle he’d ever fought in while leading soldiers, he offered a prayer to God. Today was no different. “God, please hear my prayer,” he whispered. “I ask you only to protect those under my command, and if it is your will, to spare their lives and protect them from harm. Amen.”

  Glancing back up, he saw Aibek staring at him. “The same prayer, Colonel?”

  “Every time, every battle.”

  “I, too, pray before battle, though I ask God to help me wield my sword to slay the enemy.”

  “The Torah tells us not to kill. I don’t feel it’s my right to ask God to help me kill another of his creations. I believe he must look at this carnage and any war as an abhorrence. Still, I ask that he protect the lives of those who serve.”

  “A noble sentiment.”

  “Thank you.”

  David sucked in a breath. Time to do this. “Navigation, status of Lawrence drive?”

  The Lawrence drive was the primary faster-than-light travel mechanism used by all known races in the Milky Way galaxy. It worked by creating an artificial wormhole between two points and allowing a ship to traverse it under sub-light engine power.

  “Lawrence drive fully charged, coordinates from the Oxford are locked in, and all systems show green, sir,” Hammond said.

  “Very well.” David paused for a moment. A few words of encouragement might help. He looked down at his chair and punched up 1MC— the intercom tie-in that allowed him to speak into every single compartment of the ship and reach every last member of the crew. “Attention, all hands. This is your commanding officer. I wanted
you all to know that we’re about to jump back into battle against the League. Our objective is to neutralize a League fleet carrier and its battle group. We’ve got what we think is good intelligence, but when it comes down to it, how well we remember and execute our training is what will make the difference in the next few minutes. So trust in your training, trust in your comrades-in-arms to your right and to your left. Above all, trust in God and his blessing. Godspeed.”

  David sat back in his chair and glanced around the room one last time. “Navigation, commence jump.”

  Hammond quickly responded, “Aye, sir, commencing jump.”

  Over the next few seconds, the massive Lawrence drive generators within the Lion sprang to life, folding space upon itself and opening a dazzling, artificial wormhole in front of the mighty warship. The Lion’s sub-light engines kicked in, and the warship flew through the void and into the mouth of the wormhole, closely followed by its eight escorting destroyers.

  During the five-second window between emergence from the wormhole and sensors returning to normal, David’s mind was alive, running through possible scenarios. Is this another League trap? It was hard to tell with the so-called fog of war; a catch-all term of impediments to seeing the whole battlefield.

  “Conn, TAO. LIDAR array online. I’ve got eight ship contacts, sir,” Ruth announced, interrupting David’s thoughts and snapping his brain back full onto the battle at hand. “One League fleet carrier, designated Master One. Two Rand class cruisers, designed Master Two and Three. Six Cobra class destroyers designated Master Four through Nine.”

  “TAO, does Master One have a CSP in space?”

  “Conn, TAO. I show a six fighter CSP. No other active small craft, sir.”

  David looked at Aibek. “Doesn’t look like a trap.”

  “No, it doesn’t, sir,” Aibek said.

  “TAO, firing point procedures, Master Two. Set firing solution for mag-cannons and neutron beams,”

  “Aye, sir, firing solution set.”

  “TAO, match bearings, shoot, all weapons,” David said, his voice calm, cool, and collected.

  Armor-piercing magnetic cannon rounds raced away from the Lion. Also known as a mag-cannon, their primary armament consisted of what amounted to a rail-gun. It fired shells with different configurations, including armor-piercing, high explosive, or EMP-generating warheads. The Lion’s secondary armament of high-energy neutron beams lashed out at the League cruiser as well. Its shields failed, and multiple shots impacted on the Rand’s hull. One neutron beam went straight through the League ship, blowing pieces of alloy and armor out the other side of the vessel.

  “Conn, TAO. Master Two has been neutralized and is launching escape pods, sir.”

  “Good shooting, Lieutenant. Communications, signal Colonel Amir to launch his wing. Primary target is Master One. Signal our escorts to focus their fire on Masters Four through Nine.”

  “Aye, sir,” Taylor said.

  “TAO, firing point procedures, Master Three. Set firing solution for mag-cannons and neutron beams,” David ordered, entirely absorbed by the battle.

  “Firing solution set, sir.”

  “TAO, match bearings, shoot, all weapons,” David said, the procedure for a ship-based combat evolution firmly entrenched in his mind, almost to the point of being automatic.

  Again, the massive magnetic cannons, the Lion’s primary armament, thundered in space; though you wouldn’t have heard a thing if you were outside the ship. There’s no sound in space, after all. They spat twenty-eight-hundred-pound projectiles toward the League Rand class cruiser; smacking into its shields and causing them to collapse. Followed up by judicious neutron beam strikes, Ruth’s attentions quickly rendered the League ship adrift in space. One-part science, one-part skill, and one-part art, Ruth is one of the best TAOs I’ve ever seen.

  “Conn, TAO. Master Three has been disabled and is drifting in space, sir.”

  David glanced at Aibek. “I think it’s time to turn our attention to the Tours. What do you think, XO?”

  Aibek grinned widely. “I couldn’t agree more, Colonel.”

  David’s eyes went to the tactical plot on the screen directly above his chair. The fighters and bombers from the Lion had begun to launch and were forming up.

  “TAO, firing point procedures, Master One. Set firing solution for mag-cannons, neutron beams. Make tubes one through twenty ready in all respects, target Master One.”

  “Firing solution set, sir.” She paused a moment. ”Tubes one through twenty ready in all respects. Twenty Hunter missiles ready for launch.”

  “TAO, match bearings, shoot, all weapons.”

  David watched on his tactical plot as the Lion’s weapons suite lashed out against the massive League carrier. The sheer amount of firepower that the Lion carries is incredible. The Lion had more missiles on it than six missile cruisers, and more magnetic cannons than any four heavy cruisers.

  “Conn, TAO! All magnetic cannon rounds impacted on Master One, sir! Eighteen of twenty missiles impacted…Master One’s shields are holding.”

  Time to send in the bombers and overwhelm the League carrier before it can jump out. “Communications, signal Colonel Amir to begin his attack run on Master One.”

  Amir rested his head against the neck rest inside of the cockpit of his SF-106 Phantom space superiority fighter. I will never get tired of flying these things. With a full load out of squadrons assigned to the Lion, he now had to give orders and maintain control over more fighters and bombers than he’d ever commanded in his career. He used the neural interface with his craft to pull up the tactical plot and quickly checked to see if the one hundred sixty-eight combat spacecraft from his wing were all in space and accounted for. There were no yellow or red status lights; this indicated that the entire wing was in space and ready to fight.

  “Now that is a sight,” said Major Rebecca Tulleny, her upper-class British accent cutting into Amir’s thoughts.

  “What sight is that?” Amir responded after cueing his communication channel to the private two-way channel in the command net specifically for the CAG and his deputy.

  “A League fleet carrier that’s about to be wiped out of the universe.”

  “As Allah wills it.”

  Lieutenant Taylor’s voice cut into the chatter between the two pilots. “Colonel Amir, this is Lieutenant Taylor. Colonel Cohen is ordering the Lion’s flight wing to engage Master One. Good hunting and Godspeed!”

  Amir adjusted his tactical scanner, directing it forward. “And now, we get to take one of these things out for real. You know how many times I’ve made a run at the League fleet carrier only to have it disengage?”

  “Too many times,” Tulleny said through the static of the communication channel.

  Amir flipped his communication channel to broadcast to all fighters within the Lion’s wing. “Pilots, this is CAG Amir. We’ve been ordered to commence our attack run against Master One. Space superiority fighters…form up around our heavy bombers. Time is of the essence… we must prevent the Tours from launching its fighter squadrons. Amir out!”

  “Here goes nothing,” Tulleny said in her typical deadpan style.

  “I think our best chance to inflict real damage is to volley fire our anti-ship missiles into the hangar deck areas of the Tours and hope for secondary explosions.”

  “I concur, Colonel; I’ll form up the bombers for that attack profile. Just keep those League fighters off us.”

  “Have I ever let you down in that department?”.

  “Never.”

  “Good hunting, Major. Insula Allah,” Amir said, invoking an Arabic phrase for “if God wills it.”

  Amir flipped his communication network to the channel used by his squadron. “Reapers, break left, form on me. We’re going to engage the enemy CSP. Initiate max speed!”

  Toggling up the throttle on his fighter, Amir was instantly pressed backward in his seat. With the inertial dampeners at maximum, he still felt five Gs—or five times normal
earth gravity—pressing him down. His craft was pulling close to fifteen Gs, enough to kill any normal human without a working inertial dampener.

  Amir glanced up at the heads-up display, or HUD, that was projected into the canopy of his fighter’s cockpit. He noted with satisfaction that his squadron had formed a perfect sphere around his spacecraft, just as they had drilled so many times in training. Turning his attention to the forward-facing LIDAR scanner, he realized that the Tours’ entire CSP hurtled through space toward them. Well, they’ve got guts, I’ll give them that. Six League fighters versus the wing of Terran Coalition spacecraft was no contest at all.

  “Reapers, tally ho! Six bandits at twelve o’clock. Weapons free!” Amir announced into his mic.

  Lining up the first League fighter to enter maximum range of his fighter, Amir waited a moment to receive a missile lock-on tone. “Reaper one, Fox three!” The missile sprang away from his craft, its engine roaring as soon he depressed the fire button.

  “Reaper three, Fox three!” another pilot called out. Amir watched his tactical plot as it showed a dozen LIDAR tracking warheads racing toward the League fighters from his squadron. The icons for the League fighters began to blink out one by one as the missiles connected and blew them out of space.

  “Kill six! I say again, kill six! Good shooting, Reapers!”

  The way is clear, Amir reflected, looking at the LIDAR display on his HUD. He flipped the communication channel to Tulleny’s channel. “Major, we need to put as many anti-ship missiles on target as possible.”

  “Understood, Colonel.”

  “Don’t bother with making passes and obtaining locks. Force the missiles to manual release mode, get point blank, and ripple fire everything you’ve got.”

  “That’s a bit risky, don’t you think?” Tulleny questioned him.

  “It’s a risk that’s justified by taking down one of four known operating League fleet carriers in our space.”