“Alpha Four, splash one,” Mateus called.
“Where’d you get the idea to use ground-attack rockets like that?” Justin asked. He was quite impressed with her ingenuity.
“These things can’t maneuver to save their lives, sir. I figured if I got close, I could shred them. The crew chief put a ground pod on. It looks like it checks out.”
Justin brought his Sabre behind yet another enemy bomber. “Good thinking, Mateus. Just next time, give me a heads-up, okay?”
“You got it, Lieutenant.”
Justin’s second score of the day exploded as he released the firing trigger on his neutron cannons and took a moment to maintain situational awareness on his HUD. Alpha had eliminated the League’s bomber element, and the two enemy escort vessels continued to engage with missiles and plasma cannons. A neutron beam erupted from the Zvika Greengold and impacted the nearest frigate’s shields. Why isn’t the Conqueror firing? She should make quick work of these ships. The battleship appeared to be disabled.
“Spencer, this is Whatley. Come in. Over.”
“I read you loud and clear, Major,” Justin replied.
“We’re about to launch a flight of bombers to engage the League frigates. I want Alpha to cover them as they approach. Think you can handle that?”
Justin bit back a nasty reply and instead focused on the task at hand. “Yes, sir. I’ll shift my element back toward the Greengold.”
“Good. CAG out.”
A cluster of four new blue icons appeared directly outside of the Greengold’s launch bay. Justin’s Sabre immediately IDed the craft as a flight of four Mauler bombers—Gamma element. He adjusted his flight path to meet up with them as they sped away from the carrier. “Alpha One to Gamma One. We’ll be serving as your escorts to tonight’s dance. Please join up with your partners and prepare to shoot our friends over there until they explode.”
“Mate, leave the jokes to the Aussies, okay? You sound like a bad kiwi over there trying to fake it,” Martin replied.
Laughter filled the commlink channel.
“Yeah, okay, I’ll remember that when you’re getting your arse shot off,” Justin snapped back.
“For the last time, use proper comms-traffic discipline, or I’ll ground you,” Whatley interjected.
“It’s called blowing off steam, mate. You ought to try it sometime before you blow yourself up with all this pent-up angst.”
More chortles sounded through the comms system. Justin couldn’t contain himself and burst out laughing.
“Lieutenant Martin, one more word, and I pull your wings,” Whatley ground out.
“Acknowledged, sir.”
Sliding into formation with the Maulers, Justin checked his HUD. Whatley is such a wet blanket. He had no time to think about his dislike for the CAG, however. Additional groups of red icons appeared on the sensor display, and they rapidly separated from the two frigates. Two elements had two fighters each. Alpha element was so close to the enemy vessels that there was barely enough time to line up before entering missile-lock-on range. As Justin waited for the tone to sound, twin blue neutron beams streaked in front of his cockpit canopy. The light momentarily blinded him, as at close range, it was intense. “Alpha One to all Alpha units. Watch out. The Greengold’s lighting up that frigate.”
At last, the lock-on tone buzzed. Justin immediately pressed the missile-launch button, an instinctive reaction primarily built on muscle memory. The Vulture dropped from his Sabre’s internal-stores bay and accelerated away. A few moments later, it hit home, exploding on the shields of the enemy craft. Justin then sent a barrage of blue neutron-cannon shots toward his foe, tracking the fighter movement for movement. It exploded in a ball of orange flame then was quickly extinguished by the vacuum of the void.
“Hey, Spencer,” Martin said. “There’s two point-defense turrets on the side of this bugger we’re attacking. Think your boys could take some heat off our missiles? I’d much rather they smack the side of that monstrosity than get blown up in space. Follow?”
“Makes sense to me. We’ll try to take out one of them for you,” Justin replied.
“Cheers, mate.”
“How about for every PD gun we take out, you get a round for Alpha?”
“Best suggestion I’ve heard out of you blokes all day. Cheerio.”
Justin clicked the commlink over to his element channel. “Alpha, break and engage, point-defense turrets on Master Two, port side. We’ll take the one closest to our bombers. Tactical sensor network shows its shields are down.”
“Wilco, Alpha One,” Feldstein replied.
As the four fighters pawed the vacuum, hurtling toward the enemy capital ship, Justin took a moment to check the status of his element. Stores were down twenty-five percent, and Mateus had hull damage. I’m going to have to remind her to be cautious. Flying blind at the enemy is a gamble. He pushed the thought down and focused on the gun-lead indicator while switching his active-missile weapon to the dumb-fire-rocket pod. The second the range gauge turned green, he held down the trigger, sending dozens of blue bolts at the turret.
Joined by the rest of Alpha element’s weapons, the fusillade was impressive. LIDAR-tracked missiles, dumb-fire rockets, and hundreds of neutron-cannon shots filled the void, and most struck home. Eventually it was too much, even for the tough armor of the turret. It blew apart into its constituent atoms. “That should even it up, Gamma.”
“Thanks, mates!” Martin replied. “Gamma One, fox one.”
Anti-ship missiles hurtled away from all four Mauler bombers, heading in straight-line trajectories toward the League frigate. The remaining PD emplacement on the vessel fired away, its red energy hammering at the darkness of space. But for all the ferociousness of the light show, it was an
