directly. Only the leading edge of warped space enclosing it would actually intersect with the planet. But that intersection could disrupt the planetary crust, and the ship would be dumped into the middle of the chaos that ensued.
The ship would almost certainly be destroyed, and the disruption to the planet’s crust might finish off the Marines where the Turusch bombardment had failed.
Koenig wondered if the Turusch ever used the Alcubierre Effect to destroy planets…and if the battlegroup would find Eta Bootis IV still intact when they broke out of warp.
They would know in another few seconds….
Those seconds dwindled away, and precisely on schedule
Light, twisted into a circular rainbow by spacetime shear effect, exploded outward as the field evaporated.
From inside the ship, the stars, for just an instant, assumed the characteristic starbow encircling the vessel forward, then shifted back into more familiar patterns.
Eta Bootis glowed hot and yellow orange almost directly ahead, with its fourth planet a slender, silver-yellow crescent bowed away from the star just beside the glare. A readout on his virtual display showed they’d emerged 38,000 kilometers out from the planet’s night side-bang on-target. On the tactical display above the pit, red points of light began winking on in rapid-fire succession, starting close to the green-lit globe marking the planet and extending farther and farther out as
A solitary blue light winked on against the planet’s night side. The Marine perimeter, at least, was still intact.
Koenig breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that. The mission had not been launched in vain after all.
All of the lights marking spacecraft, however, were red-enemy ships. None were blue. Either the fighter strike had been wiped out in the attack hours before, they’d been disabled and drifted clear of battlespace, or they were down on the planet’s surface.
Other lights were coming on now-yellow ones-indicating unidentified targets. Most of those would be disabled ships-hulks, critically damaged vessels, or even large chunks of debris. The Dragonfires, Koenig noted, had made a definite impression on the Turusch; there could be no doubt about that.
And even as he watched, the first pair of blue fighters emerged from
At the same time, other fighters were emerging from the drop tubes circling
In seconds, a cloud of gravfighters began to encircle the carrier, moving outward.
“We’re counting thirty-four active Turusch capital ships,” Commander Craig told him. “Eight more appear to be heavily damaged, but still have active power sources.” She hesitated. “Lots of fighters…but we’re not picking up any friendlies.”
“Very well,” Koenig said. “Captain Buchanan? You may accelerate and engage as soon as all of our fighters are clear.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
If the initial numbers were to be believed, the Dragonfires had destroyed at least thirteen Turusch warships, and damaged eight more, a
That gave the
He’d not expected to see any Dragonfires in the battlespace, not after nine hours. He just hoped that most of them had been able to win through to the Marine perimeter on the planet.
“All Blue Omegas are in position and ready for boost,” Commander Allyn said. “We’ll take our count from you.”
“Copy that, Blue One,” the voice of a Marine in MEF HQ Operations Control replied. “The shield is coming down in five…four…three…two…one…
The five gravfighters were already airborne, configured for atmospheric flight and floating vertical, their noses aimed at the night sky just south of the zenith. As the shield section flicked off, the fighters began accelerating, a slight ripple preceding them as artificial singularities winked into place. Within seconds, they were shrieking skyward. A thick cloud of vapor engulfed each as it lanced toward heaven, stretching out behind and forming a cone shape as the Starhawks went supersonic, then vanishing as they went hypersonic seconds later. Behind and below, the Marine shields switched back on and the base lights vanished.
“Hey Skipper?” Tucker, Blue Eight, called. “I’m getting an EDS here. AI says it’s Prim!”
Allyn glanced at her virtual com suite display, saw the wink of a contact light, with bearing and range. So Prim had survived! Or, at least, the emergency distress beacon built into his e-suit was still functioning, which wasn’t necessarily the same thing.
“Got it,” she said, patching the signal through back to MED HQ.
“Shouldn’t I go back down and try to find him?”
Katie Tucker was Prim’s wing. Of course she wanted to cover her partner. “Negative, Tuck,” she replied. “The Marines’ll take care of him.”
“Yeah, we got other Tushies to fry,” Blue Five put in. “Let’s
On Allyn’s tactical display, six Turusch capital ships and a score of fighters were picked out by red icons above Eta Bootis IV. All were under acceleration, and appeared to be outbound from the planet’s night side. She extended the range on her display, and the blue icons of the emerging carrier battlegroup winked on.
The five surviving Blue Omega fighters had pulled several two-ship patrols in the time since they’d arrived at Mike-Red, aimed mostly at keeping the Turusch at a respectful distance. The bombardment of the Marine perimeter had all but stopped. With Blue Omega’s arrival, the enemy had known that the battlegroup would be on the way, and they’d obviously been preparing for its arrival, the Marines on-planet now a far lower priority than the approaching Confederation fleet.
The overall tactical situation offered the handful of Starhawks on the surface of Eta Bootis IV a rare opportunity. With the
White light blossomed, startling and stark against the night. The Tushies hadn’t entirely forgotten the base, or the fighters hidden there. “Everyone okay?” she called as the crackle of EM static faded.
“Blue Eight, okay!”
“Blue Five, still here.”
