“This is Zvika Greengold actual. Say again, Alpha One?”
Justin was surprised to hear Colonel Banu Tehrani. She was the commanding officer of their carrier.
“We’re being spiked by LIDAR, Colonel.”
“Negative on weapons-free status, Lieutenant. Maintain weapons hold. Attempt identification of the bogies and do not fire unless they take offensive action.”
“Understood, Colonel.” Justin clicked the comms channel back. Dammit. Do we really have to wait for them to open up first? He detested the idea of being held back by rules of engagement that didn’t allow them to fire until the enemy took the first shot. “Command thinks it’s nothing. Maintain speed and activate electronic countermeasures.”
“ECM online. They’re maintaining lock,” Feldstein said.
A missile-lock-on alert from Justin’s onboard-threat-assessment computer diverted his attention back to the battlespace. The bogeys heading their way had spiked the entire flight.
Ten seconds to engagement range—at least for our weapons. He bit his lip. This is wrong. His entire body seemed to rebel, and even though he’d never once fired a shot in anger, he knew the incoming was hostile, which made his next order simple. Weapons hold allows us to return fire. Nothing wrong with ensuring we can. “Alpha flight, arm missiles and get a hard lock. Designate all contacts as bandits.”
Sounding alarmed, Feldstein asked, “Sir, are you sure? We’ve got direct—”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Justin snapped. He selected the closest bandit and triggered the LIDAR autolock. Seconds later, the missile tone sounded in his cockpit. He flipped the comms channel back to guard. “Inbound craft, this is your final warning. Squawk IFF and break lock immediately, or we’ll fire.”
What felt like an eternity passed. For a moment, he thought the bandits might be an elaborate test by their CAG—the Commander, Air Group—Major Gabriel Whatley.
That hope shattered in an instant, when a missile blasted from the nearest incoming craft.
Time seemed to stop as his brain leaped into overdrive. “Alpha flight, you are cleared to engage bandits bearing zero-zero-five. Weapons free. I say again, weapons free.” Justin squeezed the button on the flight stick that triggered the launch of an LT-47F Vulture active LIDAR-tracked warhead. Military craft stuck to the tried and true: buttons and levers requiring affirmative touch to move, especially when firing weapons. “Alpha One, fox three,” he called, using the code to notify his wingmen of the type of weapon fired.
Each of the four friendly fighters loosed a missile, and so did the enemy contacts. The weapons crossed paths as electronic countermeasure systems on both sides went to work. Many of the warheads were spoofed by decoys or ran into ring material, exploding prematurely. A few of the Vultures that missed their targets looped around, attempting to reacquire.
The bandits split into two elements of two fighters each and sent another wave of warheads into the fray.
“Alpha Two, break left. You’ve got two missiles inbound,” Justin called as he pressed the missile launch button to fire another Vulture. “Alpha One, fox three.”
“Alpha Three, fox three,” Adeoye added. A moment passed. “Alpha Three, splash one. Splash one bandit!”
Justin checked his HUD and confirmed that they faced one fewer enemy. Who are these guys?
He considered the flight characteristics of their opponents. The delta-V—shorthand for changing velocity—displayed by the opposing force wasn’t as robust as the Sabres’, but it was higher than any civilian craft he’d ever seen. Whoever they are, that’s military-level tech. Pirates simply didn’t have access to the latest and greatest equipment.
The thought passed as his Vulture struck home, and the targeted fighter disappeared from his HUD. The two remaining contacts turned directly toward Alpha Two and accelerated.
“Alpha Two, watch out. They’re on your twelve.”
“Roger,” Feldstein replied. “I think they want to dogfight, sir.”
Standard CDF fighter engagement doctrine was never to engage the enemy in a close-in, tail-chasing dogfight but to stay solely in beyond-visual-range combat. At the rate of closure, Justin decided to allow the combat to develop, since they appeared to have a turning and acceleration edge over the bandits. Trying to lose an enemy in the muck they were flying through just to allow reengagement with missiles seemed foolhardy to him. I guess we’ll see how good these Sabres really are.
Justin kicked up the afterburners on his craft, adjusting his heading slightly. On his HUD, the computer displayed a targeting reticle that glowed green as his fighter’s forward neutron cannons ranged. They were smaller cousins of the CDF’s primary anti-ship energy weapon and packed a serious punch against small craft. He squeezed the trigger on his flight stick, and bright beams of blue stabbed out, forming blue bolts as they raced into the darkness of the void. “Alpha One, guns, guns, guns.”
While some races—like the Kellions, a nation of bipeds farther down the galactic arm than the Terrans—built small craft as armored balls with a pilot in the center, with imaging systems to provide full vision, the CDF didn’t. Human pilots had long insisted on being able to see the outside world, even with the risks it entailed. The cockpit of the Sabre had a bubble of transparent alloy that allowed a three-hundred-sixty-degree field of view.
Justin blinked as a blur of a black triangle with a red emblem raced by his canopy. His HUD froze the image, showing a stylized logo with a raised fist. I’ve never seen anything like that before. Scans of the enemy craft showed a weakening in its deflector shields, but it didn’t appear as if his shots had caused damage.
As Justin whipped his Sabre around, the missile-lock alarm sounded, cutting through his mental clutter. His HUD revealed that it was a heat seeker designed to home in on his engine. He deployed flares, and they streaked away. The enemy missile exploded, mistaking the decoy for his fighter.
He adjusted his heading toward the bandit and toggled his comms to the command frequency. “Zvika Greengold, this is Alpha One. We’ve engaged four bandits after they fired on us. Request immediate backup along with search and rescue. Two bandits
