Jethro: First to Fight (77 page)

...*...*...*...*...

When Hurt locker was on her final to the
planet she saw a shot come up from the planet and then go off into space. She
quickly keyed her radio. “Antigua, Antigua, this is Cobra 4, Federation navy.
I'm on final to recover on the planet. Please don't shoot. Please guide me in,”
she said. “Over.”

She waited, closed her eyes for a moment
then opened them when a voice finally responded. “This is Antigua control, all
windows are closed. If you are who you say you are, go somewhere else,” he
instructed in a firm voice.

Hurt locker glanced at her fuel. She
winced. She could divert to the station, but it was still in enemy hands. “No
can do Antigua, I'm, look, I'm not quite bingo, but you are the only port in a
very messy storm up here. My ship's a bit chewed up and I need to land.”

“Stand by Cobra four,” The controller
replied. She could imagine the discussion going on. They probably thought of
her as a pirate playing games, maybe trying to get in to do a firing run on
their network of planetary defense centers. She keyed them up on her computer
and frowned. The one that had fired on her was from the Northern continent,
there were a series of cratered mountains where others were supposed to be.
Apparently the enemy had taken them out, or at least damaged them.

She wondered what was going on, what was
taking so long. Hopefully they'd make up their minds before she ran out of fuel
or had to divert.

...*...*...*...*...

“What's going on?” Randor asked as his
wife stood in the space port control holding a microphone to her chest.
“Honey?” he asked.

“Shh, I'm waiting on a reply,” she said.

“From who?” Randor asked. His hands were
up. “Honey, Marlena, we really need to get to the shelters. The caves...”

“My place is here,” she said firmly,
looking out over the space port to the golden city beyond. “Damn it...” she
muttered.

He came up behind her and wrapped his
arms around her, rubbing her arms briefly before he hugged her. She smiled,
nuzzling into him, drinking in his scent and strength. She felt his hands rub
her back and shoulders. “Oh, good,” she murmured, head down.

“We can find a nice quiet place near the
caves to have some fun dear,” he said.

She smirked. Randor was always horny, or
said he was when the shooting started. But she had a duty. “I can't.” She
pointed to a blip in the horizon.

He turned to look at it with a frown,
hands pausing. It showed the planet, with a single ship approaching. “Shuttle?”

“I don't know. I'm not sure what it is.
Antigua fired a warning shot, control doesn't know if it's friend or foe
either. The governor is being cautious about the battle going on overhead.”

“Wait, there's a battle going on above?”
Randor demanded, eyes wide.

She laughed, turning to him. “See? You
go hide in a cave and you don't get to see everything going on silly!” she
said.

He pursed his lips for a moment then let
out a deep breath. “Okay, for the record, I was with Duncan trying to get snake
mountain's weapons back online.”

“As well as managing the evacuation, yes
I know, I heard you,” she said, pointing to a headset on the counter controls
in front of her. He looked at it and then shorted.

“So, battle?”

“A ship came in, apparently a warship. She's
chewed up the pirate fleet.”

“Oh!” Randor said, delighted.

“Eternia space port control, this is
Antigua Prime, W two speaking. This you Mar?” Rasha Warner said over the radio
startling them both.

Marlena smiled and raised the radio to
her lips. “This is me W, um, about our visitor...”

She had to wait a few seconds for the
signal to reach the station and then a reply to return. “It's a fighter. One of
ours. Or the Navy's I should say. The cavalry has arrived,” Rasha replied,
voice sounding elated. “Firefly is cleaning the pirate fleet's clocks as we
speak.” Marlena looked down to see an encrypted file embedded in Rasha's voice.
It had all sorts of information in it. She applied the agreed upon public
decrypt key she had and then passed the contents to Randor. He took a look and
then whistled.

“How are you doing up there?” Marlena
asked, clearly worried for her friends. “Over.”

“Oh, we've got our hands full with
uninvited guests.” Rasha replied, voice a tinged with suppressed annoyance.
“We're going to be evicting them soon I hope,” she said. “If you could give
that fighter sanctuary? She goes by the handle Cobra 4.”

“Okay,” Marlena replied. “Good luck
Rasha. Stay safe,” she said.

“You too Marlena, you too,” Rasha
replied. Marlena switched frequencies.

...*...*...*...*...

“Cobra four, this is Eternia space
control. You are cleared to land at our location,” a new voice, this one a
human female said after five minutes of waiting.

Hurt locker's eyes flared wide briefly
in surprise and confusion. “Um...”

“You can't do that!” Antigua control
said over the radio. “The governor...”

“Can talk until he's blue in the face.
This lady needs to land. NOW.”  The lady said. “Tell Randall I said it's
okay. I checked her out, she's friendly.”

“On your head,” Control replied, clearly
seething.

Hurt locker picked up the landing beacon
and fed it's coordinates into her computer. After a moment it kicked out a
course to follow on her HUD. “Cobra 4, course plotted.”

“Follow the ball 4,” Marlena replied.

“Roger, I have the ball,” Hurt locker
replied.

...*...*...*...*...

Only after she survived the buffeting of
her fighter hitting the atmosphere, and then the feel of the skids hitting and
sliding on the concrete apron did Hurt locker realize she was doing another
first, the first pilot to land on another planet. And what a planet! She had
had a brief glimpse of jungle and a golden city beyond the port, she was
already wondering how many bars they had, and if she could pick a guy up in
one. Hell, not if, when. She wanted some in the worst way.

She smiled, settling as her ship slid to
a halt. She let out a breath, staring out as her ship skin cooled. She saw a
hover car approaching and keyed the sequence to open her cockpit. As it rose
she keyed the sequence to release her suit's harness from the ejection seat,
and then took her helmet off. She shook her hair out and smiled to a red headed
woman getting out of the car. A bearded man was with her. “Thanks for letting
me land.”

“You're welcome,” Marlena replied with a
slight upward curve of her lips as she put her hands on her hips. “Welcome to
Eternia Island.”

“Nice to be here,” Hurt locker replied,
climbing out of her craft. “Lieutenant JG Martha Huert. You can call me by my
handle, Hurt Locker. Is that a PDC?” she asked, pointing to the mountain that
looked like it was covered in snakes.

Marlena turned. She was surprised that
the woman had ignored the golden city in favor of the defense instillation.
Then again, right now they were under attack, so maybe her priorities were
right on the money. “It is.”

“Does it work?”

Marlena looked again. “I certainly hope
so. And it's a long story.”

“I'd love to hear it, but right now I
need fuel and energy so I can get back in the fight.”

Marlena gave her a long look then
lurking smile. She could tell the other woman desperately wanted a bath and
sleep, but she knew better than to offer, she had made up her mind. Besides,
her friends and colleagues were up there, fighting for their lives. She nodded.
“We'll get it done,” she said. She turned and started issuing orders.

Hurt Locker looked up to the sky above.

...*...*...*...*...

Other fighters took out the smaller
escort ships, then moved out of the battle space with the surviving enemy
gunships on their tails. The distraction drew off some of the fire and
attention from Firefly, which was the greater threat. Firefly had exited the
battlespace and then had cut her drive and done a pitch flip, going nose over
tail in a 180, and then lit her drive in a braking maneuver. They didn't want
or need to burn off too much speed, after all, speed was life, but they did
need to get back into the fight.

They reshaped their course to sling
around a moon and then came back in hard and fast. Cutlass was wounded but
still in the fight it seemed. Four frigates and a dozen corvettes remained
standing. They thundered their rage at their enemy.

“They aren't running Captain, they're
standing their ground.”

“I see that.”

“Execute Dazzle and Shell game.”

“Aye, Captain, executing shell game.”

Firefly sent a spread of counter
missiles from her bow tubes. They blew up in front of Firefly at about a
million kilometers out, sending out a dazzling display of flares, chaff and
sparklers. Firefly deployed decoys at the same time, each headed in a different
angle away from them mimicking the ship's drive signature.

At the same time the ship spat six eggs
behind her with her chase tubes, then went dark, dropping her shields. The ship
stepped down her reactor to stealth once more and then pitched down, away from
the Horathians and out of their engagement zone.

In a way, the larger ship was backing
off, buying time for her damage control parties to get a handle on the mounting
list of damage while also looking for another opening to get in to the enemy's
formation. The Captain was playing it conservative now, trading insane risk for
a cold methodical edge attack.

There was a problem though, in stealth
she obviously couldn't take on her fighters or launch shuttles. The fighters
had to stand off. She sent them off to another location, then changed course.
With any luck the enemy would lock onto the fighters and think that Firefly was
headed to meet them.

...*...*...*...*...

“Get those damn gunships back in tight!
Keep them tight, they are the only things we've got to fend off those
fighters!” the admiral ordered.

“Aye admiral,” the communications
officer replied. “Ordering gunships to return to station.”

“Status report?” The admiral asked. He
wasn't sure he wanted to know.”

“Still no damage to the troop ships or
tenders. Ramona took superficial damage from debris from Richard. We're down to
three frigates since Richard was destroyed. Cutlass, three frigates, six
corvettes and... eight gunships still effective sir.”

“Damn it!” He glared at the Captain as
the Captain opened his mouth. “Don't! Don't even say it!” he snarled.

...*...*...*...*...

After an hour, the remaining four
fighters scissored in for a third attack but most of their external ordinance
had been used. They hit the outer edge of the Horathians, picking off a pair of
gunships before they headed off into the outer dark. Attrition was taking a
toll on them though. Hurt Locker had headed down to the planet, her partner had
joined the rest of the squadron. One fighter had been damaged and had docked with
the station. From the report they received the natives had gotten to him first
and he was safe.

...*...*...*...*...

Hurt Locker returned a few hours later,
refueled, but lacking any ordinance.  She was ordered to cover the
station.

“She's acknowledged the order Captain.
Covering Sticks is part of her training. With her wingman on the station...”
Shelby shrugged as she closed the link.

“Com, let them know we're here,” the
Captain ordered.

“Aye Captain. We're sending now. I think
they'd notice the mother of all battles happening around them, but...” the
Captain glared. “Sorry, Captain, a note, we won't be in the same place to
receive.”

“Keep an ear open on omni. I'm not
expecting any miracles,” the Captain shrugged. “But record, unless it's
critical, don't distract me.”

“Aye Captain.”

“Whatever they say it can wait,”
Mayweather muttered, settling into her chair. She glanced at her helmet display
and then to the main viewer. She looked over to the tactical display and then
her smaller echo. Finally she closed her eyes and pulled the feed directly to
her implants.

“Ready the Marines,” Mayweather said
softly, sending the order through her link. “Land the landing force.”

...*...*...*...*...

“Sir! Firefly has just launched what
appears to be two shuttles!” CIC reported.

“Course?” the admiral asked.

“They could be Search and Rescue,” the
Captain said. The admiral waved to him to shush. That burned, the Captain
scowled. He was now relegated to a spectator on his ship. The admiral was even
intercepting damage control and ship status reports and giving his crew orders.

“Sir, course is... the station!” CIC
reported. “ETA ten minutes!”

“Intercept them! Send the nearest
gunships in and take those shuttles apart!”

...*...*...*...*...