The Tau Ceti Agenda

'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.

'The Warlords need immediate assistance on the ground. The Dawgs are gonna go pukin' deathblossom. That should give you enough air cover to hit the surface and give them some relief.' Poser had been contemplating ordering the Navy pilots into the maneuver for which their fighters were specifically designed. It was a deadly maneuver for the enemy, but it also rendered the Ares-T pilots spent for several seconds afterward, leaving them vulnerable.

'Shit! Fox three!' Poser cut the power to the engines on the HOTAS and then yanked the stick hard left to give her some space between herself and the Gnats on her tail.

'I got you, boss!' Her wingman, Skater, rolled in an energy- usurping maneuver to draw the fire, giving Wendy time to go to guns.

'Guns, guns, guns.'

'Roger that, Poser. The Saviors will hit the deck in bot as soon as you start puking.'

Wendy's fighter spun over from her maneuver, forcing blood to her extremities and out of her brain. The g-suit squeezed her, and she grunted and flexed against the crushing weight. It subsided as her trajectory leveled off.