Forge of War (Jack of Harts) (5 page)

“I agree,” Johanson answered, giving the fighter an approving nod.  “Proceed as you will.”

“Excellent,” the fighter said, lifted a few centimeters off the floor, hovering on its grav plating, and turned towards the wall.  The wall split open, revealing a hangar full of fighters beyond the briefing room.

“Nice.  You
did
come prepared,” Jack mumbled in the direction of the hangar.

Betty followed the fighter, her hand on its wing possessively.

“Betty?  A boyfriend already?”

Her cheeks blushed crimson.  “No!”

“And here I thought I was everything you wanted,” the fighter said in a hurt voice.

She glared at the fighter for several seconds before turning it on Jack.  “
Not
a
boyfriend
!”

“OK, OK.  I’ll take your word for it,” Jack said, holding his hands up in defense.

She continued to glare at him before finally letting it go away.  She replaced it with a sly smile.  “Fine.  You want to know?  He’s big, he’s strong, and he’s got big
engines
.”

“Engines?”

“Hey, it’s
your
fault. 
You
made me want to go places!  And engines
do
that!”

Jack looked at the fighter for a moment before returning his gaze to Betty.  “Touché,” he said with a nod.

“Indeed,” the fighter said, sounding very smug indeed.

Jack rubbed his temple with the fingers of one hand, considering again that he’d really never considered what life would be like with a cyber before he jumped in feet first.  When he looked back up, he stopped in his tracks as the scene finally caught his attention.  A dozen Avengers hovered on their grav plating, engine pods flush with the wings for atmospheric operations, their noses facing towards the hot Texas landscape shimmering outside the hangar doors.  They looked ready to fly, ready to kill.  They looked dangerous.

Jack smiled.  He could live with that.  If they flew well of course.  Jack smiled at the fighter.  “I
do
hope you fly as good as you talk.  I am
so
ready to kick the Shang’s asses across the universe if you can.”

Crickets welcomed the morning, a faint sound on the edge of his hearing.  The lake spread out before him, waves gently lapping against the sandy beach, tickling his toes.  Behind him, the bonfire that filled all of his dreams now guttered in and out, failing as its fuel began to run out.  Sunlight burned the mist away, glinting off the waves.  The partiers that filled his dreams, friends from before Yosemite, had all gone home as light came.  Three beautiful young ladies rose out of the lake, water streaming down their bodies.  Jack smiled.  Well, not
all
of them had gone.  This was going to be an amazing morning.

Alarms rang, and Jack frowned.  That sound didn’t belong on the beach.

“Warning, warning, this is not a drill,” a voice he
knew
did not belong near this lake announced in a calm voice.  “All personnel to Battle Stations.  This is not a drill.  All personnel to Battle Stations.”

“Ah crap,” Jack said and reluctantly opened his eyes, sending the wonderful dream about the blonde, brunette, and redhead to wherever it went when he woke up.  He saw the dull grey bulkheads and shook his head.  This really sucked.  He sniffed and slid out of his rack, avoiding the other pilots doing the same, and grabbed the bits of his uniform.  He pulled it on, stuffed his feet into his boots, and ran out into the corridor ahead of the other pilots, still buttoning the last of his buttons.

“Warning, warning, this is not a drill,” Connie continued to announce over the speakers as Jack ran towards the flight deck, the other pilots behind him.

“Betty!  What’s going on?”

“Right here, Jack,” the cyber answered in his right ear, her holographic image appearing on his shoulder in full uniform.  “There’s been another attack.  The Shang hit Fort Wichita with a hyper missile salvo.  They’re trying to sweep up the survivors now.”

“And we’re moving to stop them?”  Jack jumped through the hatch.  The inner hangar opened up before him and he whistled.  After three months, he still loved entering the business end of the
U.S.S. Constellation
.  “Wow,” he whispered.  Pilots for the other eleven squadrons, all Navy, spilled out of their sleeping quarters, making for their fighters in the massive open hangar bay that ran the length of the carrier.  Looking towards the bow, he saw the multi-colored spectrum of hyperspace through the energy curtain that held the air in.

“Thank you,” Connie said from a nearby speaker.  “It’s always nice to be appreciated.  And to answer your question, yes, we are moving to protect Fort Wichita.  Please get in your fighter.  We are approaching the launch point.”

“Yes, Mom,” Jack answered and ran deeper into Cowboy Country.  He came to a stop at his fighter and climbed up the ladder provided for him.  He dropped into the cockpit and watched the displays come to life around him.

“Welcome, Jack,” Betty’s voice said from the fighter’s speakers as the canopy began to close.  Her avatar jumped off his shoulder and landed on top of the instrument panel with a dancer’s grace.

“Status?” Jack asked as he smiled at her and buckled himself in snuggly.

“All computer and weapons systems are online and operational,” Betty said with a smile.  “The reactors are still warming up to full power and should be ready in one minute.  You beat me again.”

“Excellent,” Jack said.  He scanned the hangar, watching the other pilots scramble into their fighters.  The canopy finished closing, locking them off from outside eyes.

Betty stretched and the uniform faded away, the yellow sundress she preferred fading back into existence.  “Much better,” she said and sat down on the instrument panel, crossing her legs with a satisfied smile.  “Now,” she said, her voice back to business, and pointed towards a display that came to life.

Jack saw the fleet holding in space over America, in combat with the Shang, and pursed his lips.  An American destroyer drifted towards Earth, most of its power systems offline.  A quarter light second below it, Fort Wichita belched flame and wreckage into space, damage caused by the surprise attack.

“That was two minutes ago,” Betty said and the scene shifted to show a Peloran battleship and her escorts smash into the Shang fleet’s flank.  “And that was thirty seconds ago.  We’re going to hit them in the
other
flank as soon as we are ready to launch.”

“Excellent,” Jack said with a dark smile that said just how ready he was to kill some Shang.

Betty’s eyes narrowed at the tone of his voice.  “Be careful, Jack.”

“Careful’s my middle name, Ma’am,” he answered with a smile and began tapping displays to make certain the fighter was ready.  It was make-work really.  Betty had already done it all, but it was time to look busy.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” she said in a scolding tone.  “You
know
my terms.  When this war is over…”

Jack raised one hand and met her gaze, his jaw set stubbornly.  “When?  How can you be so sure we’ll win?”

Betty pursed her lips.  “I’m not.  I’m sure the war will end though, win or lose, and when it does, you
know
my terms.  I won’t be…this…forever,” she said with a wave of her hand towards the hangar around them.  “This is our
job
.  Don’t let it become your
life
.”

Jack set his jaw harder.  “Tell that to the people who don’t
have
a life anymore thanks to those
Shang
.”

Betty gave him a sad smile.  “I understand,” she whispered.

His eyes narrowed and he almost asked how she could.  He kept his mouth closed and shook his head, though.  He pushed the anger that almost made him say that away, took a deep breath, and let it go again.  He closed his eyes, opened them, and met her gaze.  “Yeah, me too.”  He placed his hand on the panel next to her, apologizing for what he almost said.

She blinked, meeting his gaze, and he had the feeling she knew what he hadn’t said.  Her smile grew happier though and she placed her small hand on his finger, turning the projectors in the fighter up to solid so he could feel her.  “Then let’s do our
job
, Jack.”

He nodded towards her.  “Yeah.  Our job.”  He looked outside to see the last of the Cowboys climbing into their fighters.  “Speaking of which.”  The last canopy began to close.

“This is Cowboy One to all Cowboys,” Lieutenant Colonel Johanson transmitted from his fighter.  “Do you read?”

“Roger,” Cowboy Six answered, and the sixth light appeared on Jack’s display.  As each pilot added his “Roger” to the list, another light appeared until only one light remained dark.

“Roger,” Jack transmitted and his light came on.

“Excellent,” Johanson transmitted.  “Datalinks are shiny.  Now we have a special mission, Cowboys.  Mom, can you beam us out?” he asked as his fighter pulled up off the deck.

“Your beam, Cowboys,” Connie said over the speakers as a beam of red light appeared in the middle of the hangar, leading out to the bow.  “Good luck with your mission.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Johanson transmitted.  “Snuggle up, Cowboys, and stay on my beam.”  His fighter’s engines flared to life and he accelerated away.

Jack relaxed back in his seat as Betty took the fighter off the deck, slotting into line just below another Cowboy.  Betty accelerated to follow while maintaining formation with the other Cowboys and stayed on the beam.  Ahead of them, the other squadrons pulled away from the beam, giving them clear traffic out of the hangar.  The fighter passed through the energy curtain holding the air in and the multicolored gravity waves of hyperspace surrounded them.

Jack looked to starboard, where the
U.S.S. New Jersey
held station two kilometers away, even her kilometer-long bulk almost fading into the background in the multicolored kaleidoscope that was hyperspace.  He could barely spot the rest of the task force escorting the
Constellation
, on the absolute edge of detection range.  Detection ranges in hyperspace were so short that only the centermost ships of a standard formation could see everybody in the fleet.  In really big fleets, fleet command depended on other ships to tell them where the rest of the formation lay.

“Stay on me,” Johanson ordered and pulled up.  Jack and the other Cowboys followed the wake he cut into hyperspace, moving above the carrier.  “Cowboy Flight is away, Mom.  You are clear to maneuver.  Good hunting.”

“Good hunting, Cowboys,” Connie answered and the
Constellation
turned towards the
New Jersey
, her engines twisting hyperspace around her.  “Commencing surface action in…three…two…one…now.”  Her transmission cut out as the fleet carrier flashed and disappeared.  The other ships of the squadron flashed and disappeared as well, leaving the Cowboys alone in the sea of hyperspace.

“What are we doing, sir?” Jack asked, his plot still showing the last update of the battle, with the Peloran squadron driving deeper into the Shang flank.

“We’re waiting,” Johanson answered with an amused tone.  “The Shang have to have a reserve.  This is too small an attack force to punch us out.  So we are waiting for them to commit that reserve.”

“Ah…and then we flank them,” Jack said with a smile.

“Exactly,” Johanson transmitted.  “So right now, we snuggle up and wait for word.”

A message drone flashed into being in front of their formation.  It flashed them a datadump and Jack winced at the story it told.  The
New Jersey
and the Peloran squadron between them had hammered the Shang force into the defending line, destroying several Shang warships in seconds.  And ten seconds ago, another Shang force had arrived to surround the Peloran squadron.  The data cut, showing when the drone had been sent.

“Or maybe we don’t wait much at all,” Johanson added.  A beam appeared on the plot, aiming towards the point in hyperspace that correlated with the new Shang flank.  “Cowboy One to all Cowboys.  Stay snuggled and follow my beam,” Johanson ordered and accelerated down the beam.

Jack interlaced his fingers and cracked his knuckles, getting ready for action as Betty followed orders, maintaining perfect formation with the other cybers.  He watched the display, marking their approach towards their target.

“Check your music,” Johanson ordered.

Jack turned to Betty and she smiled.  The jammers were active.  The fighter accelerated again, following Johanson’s fighter.  He glanced at the displays to confirm that they were as shallow as possible in hyperspace, not moving more than a few meters per second faster than the same speed in normal space.  They were approaching full correlation between the two, the point where it would take the least amount of energy possible to jump between them.  Even at the wall though, it still took a lot of energy to translate, more than any other Terran fighter had ever been able to generate before.

“Surfacing in three…two…one…” Johanson counted off.

Jack watched the energy crackling down his Avenger’s nose and shut his eyes.

“Now!” Johanson ordered.

Jack saw a flash of blinding light behind his lids, and when his eyes opened the stars glinted in a black sky.  He scanned the battle all around him, taking everything in.  Earth lay below them just over a light-second away, America in full view.  A map display showed the moon and her forts on the far side of Earth, too far away to be of much use here.  He squinted and the view zoomed in to show him a squadron of Chinese warships moving in over the Pacific.  Fort Honolulu fired towards them, warning them away from the Hawaiian Orbitals.  So far, only the Shang seemed willing to fight inside the Lunar Orbit and Jack really hoped the Chinese didn’t decide to join in now.

He turned to scan the main battle and had just enough time to recognize what he was seeing.  Missiles from Earth, the Moon, and various Western Alliance Forts streamed into the battle, but when a missile’s flight time was measured in seconds it was real easy for point defense batteries firing from each Shang ship to kill it.  The ground and low-orbit light or gravity-based weapons were quiet, too far away to hit anything if they fired.  The Shang now surrounded the American and the Peloran squadrons still protecting Fort Wichita, pouring energy and short-range missile fire into their targets.  They’d brought in more reinforcements while the Cowboys moved to this location, and the wreckage of starships floated all around the battlefield, some falling deeper into the gravity well.  This was going to be another rough day for the planet if those didn’t get pulled back up.

Directly ahead of the Cowboys, the Peloran squadron fought for its life, a Shang cruiser between them.  Jack squinted and saw the light sheer around the Shang ship showing that its deflection grid was at full power.  Nearly all of it was aimed at the Peloran squadron.  He saw laser batteries shooting down missiles and fighters between the two forces, and a Peloran destroyer belched fire and fell out of formation.

“Fire!” Johanson snapped and the universe turned inside out.

Jack had been told that, to all intents and purposes, a gravitic cannon grabbed the laws of gravity by the neck with both hands and throttled them.  About all the physics he could remember was something about hundreds of gravities of gravitic sheer compressed into a five centimeter “beam.”  It was a decidedly unpleasant experience when two such “beams” passed within meters of the cockpit on either side and made the human inner ear think that “down” was to both sides simultaneously.  The eggheads said there were no permanent side effects.  Jack doubted them.  The Peloran placed
their
grav cannons
outside
their ships after all, very far away from any fragile biological crewmembers.  There had to be a reason for that.