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    Topher Lydon
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Sigil of the Wolf - 10. Chapter 10

When your enemy does something unexpected, you must ensure he is reacting in kind for a deed you have done For it is always better to act, rather than react.

-VonGrippen 'Meditations'

HMS Excalibur - Ezu VI System

Darien rolled up his shirtsleeves, bending over the CIC chart table, sparing glances to the twin holographic plotting boards that detailed everything he needed to know about the Empire, its fleet movements, its units, the disposition of its forces and, importantly, the projected sympathies of the assets.

The Amsus seemed to be pressing their attacks, waves of fighters slamming into the Imperial lines without rhyme or reason, sheer numbers seeking to overwhelm the Imperial positions. For the time being, the Imperial forces were holding, but for how long? Iver's coup was placing a serious drain on the front lines, leaving positions dangerously exposed and even leaving some forces, such as the House Kardiac transports, stuck squarely on the far side of the lines.

That meant that the only way to get to Colonel Ramsey and rescue the vital Kardiac forces was to break through those lines himself.

He couldn't take Sentinel alone, and there was no guarantee Ramsey would help him, but he at least had to try. Elias was counting on him, whether he remembered him or not.

"I need a recon flight," Darien ordered, looking over at Masconi, "A quick scout of the next system to let us know what we're in for."

She nodded in agreement, walking off to the communications tier of the bridge.

Darien bent back to his charts, reaching for a pencil, pulling his hand back as the black blade thumped onto the chart before him.

He looked across the backlit table, pulling his glasses off and pushing a couple of errant strands of his hair from his face as he looked across at James, "What's this?" he asked, gesturing to the knife.

"I failed you, Aga-Khan," James said simply, "As such you must kill me."

Darien blew out a sigh, "I don't have time for bizarre ritual sacrifices for honour right this moment, maybe if you made an appointment?"

James gave Darien the strangest of looks before he smiled, "The Aga-Khan is a strange man."

"Comes from too much coffee and the company I keep," Darien replied, picking up the knife and extending it back to the assassin, "I would rather not kill you today."

"As the Aga-Khan commands," James replied, re-sheathing his knife, "You have much to learn of our ways."

"I know them," Darien replied, calmly returning to his charts, pausing a moment to look at the surprised Fida'i, "how do you think I was able to free your sect from Zixor? I knew all about the Silent Caliph and of the exodus. How in grief for the expulsion the leaders of the sect removed their own tongues to ensure that Kardiac would never force them to speak out against Allah. Of the shelter VonGrippen gave to your people in spiriting them away from the purge."

"Pax Defende," James nodded, "He was known as the Peace Keeper to the people in the Apilon Rift."

"Indeed," Darien smiled as he took a sip of his coffee.

"I have sent word to the sect, they will recover your boy."

Darien choked on his coffee.

James looked resolute;"We shall recover him for the Aga-Khan."

* * *

Katz adjusted the young technician's ball cap he was wearing, whistling to himself as he walked under the wing of his 175.

"Uh huh!" Galadriel said pointing at him, "You did sleep with him!"

"I did not," Katz retorted, pausing his walk around to look at his friend, "We stayed an hour or two talking... and I stole his hat." He shook his head, "And not 'cause it's red, 'cause it's his..."

"So...?" She pressed expectantly running her hand along the smooth swept-forward wing of the fighter, looking under it at the pair of recon jump pods secured there.

Katz was preparing to launch a scouting mission to the co-ordinates Excalibur was preparing to jump to.

"I wanted to learn more about him," Katz said, pulling the pins on the under-slung rail cannons, "Twenty, and a fresh recruit from the Imperial training centre on Karin..."

"Dating an older guy?" Galadriel grinned.

Katz laughed, pausing in his checks, was he really still only 18? He felt so much older. It hadn't even occurred to him that the young technician was older than he was. Age lost all relevance during wartime, they were soldiers first.

"Anyway," she said, shuffling through her papers, "The Highlord wants you to do a full sweep of the system, and if you get into any trouble, get back here as quickly as you can. There's something big going on..."

"That's your way of saying 'be careful'." He grinned, climbing up the ladder to the cockpit and sat down in the ejection seat, taking off the ball cap and tucking it into one of the pockets on his cargo pants - good luck, he figured.

"You should always be careful," she called back to him, as his Plane Captain helped him buckle the myriad of belts and safety harnesses that would stop him from bouncing around the inside of the fighter like a ping-pong ball.

"Boss, you're all set," the Plane Captain said, slapping him on the shoulder as Katz did up the helmet, watching as the tech jumped down to the deck and walked around the fighter's nose.

He mumbled a "thank you" before engaging the master switch, and felt the fighter come to life under him. The plane crew scrambled around the fighter, making sure everything was good to go as Galadriel stepped back, giving him a thumbs up. He flashed her a grin and engaged the auto starters, monitoring the engine instruments as the engines spooled up. Satisfied with their performance, he started the Nav and Com equipment, the canopy already sliding into place and pressurizing around him.

His Plane Captain appeared from beneath the fighter's nose, clipping on his radio headset as he walked Katz through his pre-flight, moving the stick and rudder pedals in all directions while the ground crew looked on, observing for any sign of hydraulic leaks and ensuring that the controls were working correctly.

The Plane Captain paused, placing both hands together and opening them up while keeping his palms touching. Katz responding automatically by extending the flaps and spoilers, allowing the crew to again check for leaks and proper flight control operation. 'Flaps up' came next, followed by the 'Three Down' signal, which instructed him to lower his fighter's launch bar and tail hook, and open the speed break and In-Flight Refuelling (IFR) Probe. The ground crew scanned for anything amiss while the Plane Captain did his walk around.

It was meticulous because it had to be. They couldn't afford to lose pilots, especially not a triple-ace.

Satisfied that the fighter was good to go, the Plane Captain again hopped up on the left side of the fighter, giving Katz the 'Three Up' signal, allowing him to raise the bar and hook again, closing the air brake and the IFR probe. With a final glance aft, he ordered the plane crew to 'break chains,' and all the steel cables that held the fighter securely to the hangar deck were released. The entire process took a mere two dozen seconds.

Katz applied the brakes, and jerked his thumb aft behind his head as he signalled the Captain to pull the chocks that kept the fighter from rolling when parked. There was a ritualistic pop of his ears to equalize the pressure before he closed his faceplate and attached his oxygen hoses.

With a salute and a thumbs-up, Katz was handed off to the Plane Director and the fighter made its way to the starboard elevator to be hoisted to the flight deck. In moments he was blasting off of the Ark-Royal's flight deck and away from the Excalibur, angling for a jump vector that would put it into the next system, expending the first of its two fully charged jump pods.

* * *

"He's away," Lauren observed, looking over at Darien sitting cross-legged in his command chair surrounded by holographic displays. He appeared uncharacteristically distracted, staring ahead of him at the tall view ports where the holographic displays were tracking movement around the ship. It currently flashed a green halo around Katz's recon flight as it prepared to jump.

Darien's finger rubbed his temple, his hand framing his jawline as he watched it go, reflecting on the Amsus-Polian alliance he'd been warned about. It was a direct result of his failure to stop Kendrick and the rogue elements of House Kardiac from destroying the moon of Arcanis; the resulting ecological disaster had gripped the once beautiful world and stripped it of life and beauty, plunging it into near eternal darkness.

They had every right to be angry.

He'd done everything he could to save that world. He'd run his ship under their guns, suffered their attacks, and killed one of his own. But now, if they had sided with his enemies, then he'd have no choice but to fight them.

He wondered, if he'd known then what he knew now, would he have still risked everything to save the Polian species? He liked to think he was possessed with a noble sentiment that said he would have. Any effort to save life, no matter the cost, was worth it, even if that life wasn't human.

That was the one common ground everyone had to share, survival.

He looked down at Nazzien; the Orion was reviewing his weapon systems, making sure everything was prepared, bathed in the turquoise and blue light reflected off of the consoles. It was easier to see what they were displaying with the main

illumination turned off. It gave the bridge a dark and claustrophobic feel, but Darien was growing accustomed to the gloom. It was as if there was an unwritten rule that it had to be quiet on the bridge; conversations were kept low and to a minimum.

The silence was broken by the occasional clack of a keyboard and the steady hum of the ship's engines.

They were sitting on the edge of the Amsus blockade, Katz sent ahead to scout out a possible back door into Hegemony space, and Darien felt a tightness he usually only felt on the eve of a battle. It came with sitting so close to such a relentless enemy, and he wondered exactly how much his enemy had changed in two years.

"I have the alert fighters on standby," Masconi leaned down to say into his ear, startling him; he hadn't even heard her approach.

"Launch them," Darien ordered, his brow troubled as he stared for a long time at the empty scopes, "I don't like this, it feels wrong."

The system was too quiet, the Empire had found no real strategic value there and so hadn't bothered to entrench themselves in it, but the Amsus, quick to seek every position they could to tighten in around the Imperial forces, should have at least stationed a light cruiser or a listening post there.

He stood up, motioning for Lauren to take the helm, descending to the weapons control tier. "Sound General Quarters," he said, looking at Nazzien, "I want all our birds up and ready." He studied the tactical overlay that sprang to life over the view ports, the alarm klaxons blaring behind him as officers rushed to their stations.

"Trouble?" Nazzien inquired, the sharp-eyed Orion staring up at the same screen as Darien.

"Possibly," Darien said, his eyes trying to glean some hidden secret out of the empty space around them. Where would he hide if he were the one to prepare an ambush?

The Excalibur's RADAR and LADAR suites covered an impressive range, searching the empty system and analysing the data they found. Radiation scanners, radio telescopes and infrared scanners all searched for any hint of the enemy. All returned nothing.

Was his paranoia finally getting the better of him?

"How many ELINT recon fighters do we have?" he asked, knowing that it was overkill, but his instincts were screaming at him that something was wrong. He looked over the three BARCAPs that were currently flying in concentric circles around the ship, the Alert fighters launching to take up escort stations.

"Four currently," Nazzien reported, "They're adapted EV-IIs. But we also have the Raptor to give us additional search coverage."

"Launch the ELINTs," Darien ordered, "Let's go for as much coverage as we can and have the Alert fighters fly escort."

He stared at the flight board. He had virtually every fighter he had on deck. All on a hunch; if he was wrong then all he had lost was a little fuel. His pilots could benefit from the search exercise and he felt more confident knowing that he was ready should something go wrong.

He watched the ELINTs launching, shrieking away to take up their stations extending the Excalibur's sensor range, blanketing the area around the ship with their electronic eyes and ears. Darien felt the hairs on the back of his neck begin to rise as they found the Amsus battle group slinking through the system on their flank.

Darien took a look at the plotting board, a tall plate of glass with several hundred dots of light scattered all over it. Each dot represented a ship or fighter - blue and red for friendly fighters and ELINT fighters, green and yellow for enemy cruisers and fighters - while the centre of the plotting board represented the Excalibur.

Small white letters beneath each dot gave information on course, bearing, distance, identification, and for friendly fighters, fuel status. Immediately, the cluster of green lights on the top left side of the glass caught his attention. The green dots were moving toward the Excalibur at a slow pace, though accelerating.

"Looks like we're going to have company, Highlord," Nazzien noted grimly. The reason for the Highlord's unease was now clear. "Confirmed, enemy ships are CBDR..."

Constant Bearing, Decreasing Range, they were definitely on a course to intercept Excalibur.

"Yes," Darien replied a hand resting on his chin as he studied the enemy formation, sweeping in from a low axis plain, "There you are...".

He looked at the board for the designator of one of the fighter teams. The flight had been a part of the original CAP were just about to come aboard ship, probably to refuel to re-launch. The lead aircraft was displaying 7600 on the transponder, meaning an in-flight emergency. Darien stared at the dot for several seconds, then walked over to one of Sub-Lieutenant Galadriel's controllers and asked what the problem was.

"Well, sir, one of our F-175s is having an intermittent fuel pump failure so they're bringing him back aboard. I just handed him off to Ark-Royal Approach, so he should be on deck in about two and a half minutes," the controller said before turning back to his RADAR console.

Darien nodded. Mechanical failures happened, especially with everything up on the board. He looked back at Masconi.

"Well, we've got a real shortage of aircraft at the moment. There are a lot of tired birds out there right now; green pilots who aren't ready for this kind of battle." The look on the CAG's face was a mixture of concern and frustration. "I think this group up here is going to make a run on us. We're going to have no choice but to launch everything that will fly to try and buy us some time," she said, pointing to a group of nine Amsus cruisers - each one over a quarter-mile in length and capable of launching eighty Predator fighters apiece - that were breaking away from the main force Darien's ELINTs had picked up moments before.

The Highlord gritted his teeth. She was right, they weren't ready to fight that many ships, and Katz was still an hour from reporting back from his recon mission.

Without foreknowledge of the system ahead he'd be making a blind jump into hostile territory.

How long had the Amsus ships been in the system? Were their jump drives fully charged? If so, could they follow the Excalibur through its jump manoeuvre? If he jumped forward he could run into the same problem with the Amsus ships there, forcing him to make a second, tactical jump to escape them.

It was a neat little trap the Amsus had set, and there was only one possible target for it, only one ship capable of multiple jumps. They were hunting Excalibur.

The ELINTs had at least bought him some time. If the enemy ships had been permitted to reach the Excalibur's sensor range, they would have been on top of them before he could recall his fighters and initiate the jump. Either way, he didn't relish the idea of that battle group descending upon him.

He paused; Excalibur had a full payload of nukes. Her fighters were fully armed and deployed. And the Amsus were expecting him to run, either to retreat, or right into the middle of their trap. If he engaged them now, he'd at least be facing one half of their strike force.

"Highlord?" Masconi asked, "Should I recall the fighters?"

"Jump event..." Lt. Galadriel reported, relieving a midshipman as she took her station, "We're receiving Paladin-Leader's IFF, he's on button four reporting that the next system's crawling with Amsus ships."

"Order him to join his squadron," Masconi commanded, again looking to Darien for instructions.

His options were limited: he either fought, or he withdrew. Fighting nine capital ships would be a tough fight for the Excalibur, and her air group was woefully outnumbered, but if he withdrew, he'd be unable to reach Ramsey and protect his transports from the Amsus hunting parties.

"Arm all nuclear weapons," he ordered, "Bring us about to an intercept course. Order all fighters weapons free..."

His crew rushed about to carry out his orders as Darien walked back to the upper tier, taking off the heavy greatcoat and tucking it about the shoulders of the command chair as he took his seat. This was it, he was about to engage the Amsus; after two years, he found no relish in the prospect of battle.

"I'm going to join the air group," Masconi announced, hurrying back towards the elevators, "We're going to need every pilot up and out."

* * *

Darien rested his hands on the arms of the chair, watching the tactical display, an eye drifting every so often to the plotting board, watching the battle begin to unfold before him.

His plan was simple, use the fighters to whittle down the Amsus cruisers before they could get into firing range of the Excalibur, breaking the back of the battle group and hopefully giving the Excalibur a fighting chance. It was a risky play, but he knew he could count on Masconi to get the job done.

He felt a sense of apprehension as his first team of F-120 attack bombers made their attack run on one of the giant Amsus cruisers. As he watched, the five dots that made up the squad split in different directions before merging with the larger dot of the Amsus ship. The size of the Amsus vessel effectively blotted out the RADAR signature of the five F-120 attack bombers, and he held his breath for several seconds, waiting for them to reappear on the screen. After what seemed an eternity they reappeared, one by one - but only four of them had made it to the other side.

The attack run on the Amsus ship was the last for "Martian" Martin.

Darien cursed bitterly at the realization that one of his pilots had been lost.

"Damn... damn, damn, damn."

The pilot, Martin, had been one of the few veteran Kardiac pilots to remain with the Excalibur, sticking with the ship and training new recruits to the fighter wings after the loss of Wing Commander Kendrick. Already an experienced fighter pilot, Masconi had picked him to head up Fire Team Two for many reasons. Never one to back away from a tough task, Martin had distinguished himself well in combat, and Masconi's crew reviews liked the thorough way he approached his duties. A takecharge kind of person, Martin did things the way they needed to be done, and he had always been counted on to put forth his best effort. He had been flying as the Number 5 aircraft in the formation and was responsible for covering the other four fighters as they made their runs on the target. His eyes focused on guarding his comrades, Martin didn't see the communications tower jutting out of the hull of the Amsus cruiser, or else he saw it too late. As he weaved in and out behind the other four fighters his left wing struck the tower at a closing speed of over 2000 knots, yawing his F-120 violently to the left, where it impacted the armoured plating of the enemy vessel tail first and exploded. It was a tremendous loss.

As the first strike team exited the target in all directions, Darien saw Masconi's command team begin its run on the second enemy cruiser. The 'Avenging Angel' would doubtless do her usual expert job.

The overhead radio speaker was playing the radio chatter of the pilots, and Darien's head came up when he heard Katz's voice.

"OK, Paladins, form up on me," Katz called, his voice a full octave higher than normal. There was no doubting the adrenaline rush all four pilots were now experiencing.

"Ark-Lead, Fox-Three! Fox-Three!" came Masconi's excited call, signifying that an active RADAR-guided missile had been launched. Her number two echoed the call, letting the missiles track the big and juicy target sitting dead in the middle of her sights.

* * *

"Paladins, keep it tight," Katz called, his voice almost imploring them, now. The area was filled with enemy fighters, and he was reminding his pilots to stick together for mutual protection. "Let's keep our speed up here, guys. Keep your eyes open now. They'll be coming."

"Paladin-Lead from Two. Twelve Preds at eleven o'clock high," Jaimez, Katz's wingman, called aloud, alerting her leader to the presence of twelve Predator fighters ahead and to the left of the Team.

"Good kill, Ark-Leader! Good kill! Cruiser one is down. Cruiser one is down." It was Ark-two, Masconi's wingman. "Nice shooting, Angel."

Masconi's Amsus cruiser had just bitten the dust, and was doubtless slinging rivets and armour plating into eternity as it erupted in a series of massive internal explosions. The crew inside would die a violent death either from the radioactive conflagration that was rushing through the ship, or from explosive decompression as the cruiser came apart.

"Paladins, let's ease it right a little. A little more speed here now. Stay with me,"

Katz continued, guiding his pilots through the maze of enemy fighters that were attempting to intercept them. Outnumbered and outgunned, it would be suicidal - not to mention ineffectual - to engage the Predators so far from the Excalibur and the reinforcements and rearming it provided.

"Knights, let's take it left."

"Cavalier Squadron at the IP. We're starting our run on Cruiser Two, now.

Cavaliers step into 'Attack'. Cavalier Three, close it up. Here we go."

"Paladin-Lead from Four, those bandits have broken loose now."

"Paladin-One from Ark-Leader, negative! Those bandits are still with you, closing at your 7 o'clock low!" Apparently Paladin-Four had lost visual with the bandits, and Masconi wanted to insure that Katz knew not to get complacent.

"Ark-Leader from Paladin-One. If I come right up here can you shoot them?"

"Rog. Come right any time."

Darien's head turned to observe the RADAR link. Four dots, chased by twelve, who were in turn pursued by three others. As Katz's group broke to the right, Masconi's team cut loose.

"Ark-Lead, Fox Three, heading three-three-zero, one-zero."

"Knight Two, Fox-Two."

"Knight Three, Fox-Two, Fox-Two."

* * *

As the Highlord watched, a group of twelve infrared guided missiles zeroed in on the enemy fighters. Aware that they were under attack, the Predators scattered in different directions in a desperate attempt to evade the fusillade unleashed upon them - but it was too late. The twelve dots disappeared from the screen as the missiles from Masconi's team turned them into cosmic dust.

"Okay. Paladins, let's continue to ease it right. Speed up, eyes open. Tuck it in tight here now," Katz was steering his charges back toward the Excalibur to provide whatever protection he could while doing his best to avoid the fighters that were attempting to intercept him.

As the four 175s completed their turn, a group of Predators made a mad dash to intercept them. Converging from all sides, there was nowhere to go now but through them, and as the fighters closed, all hell broke loose.

"Paladins, go to combat spread." The blips spread out slightly, forming up in pairs for better mutual defence in the event of a turning engagement.

When the enemy fighters entered into range, Katz's team of four launched half its remaining missiles from maximum range, scoring a dozen hits. That left two-dozen Amsus fighters to deal with, and a salvo of missiles to avoid.

"Missile launch! Missile launch! One o'clock!" As the missiles closed, the members of Paladin Team broke in different directions, successfully evading the Amsus opening volley before forming up on one another once again. As the bridge crew of the Excalibur watched, the F-175s of Paladin Squad found themselves completely surrounded, as the Amsus fighters launched a second volley of missiles at close range.

"Missile launch!! Missile launch!! Eleven o'clock, Paladins," Jaimez wailed over the net.

The battle became almost too confusing to follow, as missiles were fired by both sides and fighters careened in every possible direction. Katz and Jaimez covered each other, as did Andresen and Wise. With the skill and precision that came from months of teamwork, Paladin Squad scored nine kills in quick succession - but in their place came a dozen more Predators to deal with, and no missiles with which to shoot at them.

"Alvin, break right!" Jaimez called.

Two missiles streaked past Katz, as Jaimez engaged the fighter that had fired them.

He destroyed one, then another, then two more, each coming from different directions like a swarm of angry ants. The pilots were holding their own as the Predators slashed in on them from all sides. 'Beowulf' Andresen and Will 'Notso' Wise each killed five apiece, and Katz was doing his usual fearless best. But luck could not hold out forever. Sooner or later someone would slip. Sooner or later someone would be a half second late in moving out of harm's way. It was one of those things that sometimes happened, and sooner or later, someone would die. And someone did.

As a trio of fighters closed on Flight Lieutenant Wise, the young ace turned to face them. Andresen, flitting about on Wise's blind side, was similarly engaged by another trio. As the Amsus fighters launched eight missiles at him, there was only one thing the English Literature buff could do. He levelled his rail cannons at the incoming missiles and fired. The hypersonic rounds tore out of the cannon like bolts of lightning, filling the sky in front of the Amsus volley. Six of the eight erupted into short-lived fireballs as the other two closed on him undaunted. With both eyes locked on the pair of flashing red halos on the HUD, a warning tone screaming in his ears, Andresen scooted left at the last instant, narrowly avoiding death. He did not realize that his wingman was directly behind him. The missiles were not similarly deprived of knowledge, however, and as Wise's last shot cleared the barrel of his rail cannon, the first missile struck his F-175's right wing, spinning him forward and to the left.

"What th-" he transmitted over the Tac Net, a fraction of a second before his involuntary rotation put the engines directly in the path of the onrushing missiles, which struck the fuel-laden thruster unit dead centre. With a brilliant flash of light, Wise's fighter disintegrated in a violent explosion which threw out a billion pieces of steel and composites each no larger than a pencil eraser.

"Paladin-One from Three, I just lost Four!" Andresen screamed, near a panic. He was all alone now, surrounded by a dozen pods of various types, with only his rail cannon standing between him and a funeral.

Without support, 'Beowulf' Andresen would go soon, as well.

Katz and Jaimez were faring little better. "Husky is Winchester," Jaimez called into the net as a Predator was torn to pieces by the last 55mm rounds in her rail cannon.

She was now out of ammo and Katz would not be far behind.

Darien watched helplessly, fighting the urge to break the Excalibur from its attack run, bearing down on the command ships of the Amsus battle group. It would be a futile gesture. By the time she got there it would be too late, and the Highlord bit his lip in anger and frustration, drawing blood.

He was in control, he was in control. He centred his thoughts, standing from his chair as he watched the range indicator cycling down the distance between his ship and his target.

* * *

"Ark-Leader from Paladin-Leader! We need help over here in a bad way!" Katz called. But Masconi had her own problems to deal with that day, and the silence on the radio told Katz that he was not going to find any help from the CAG.

Dispatching a pair of Amsus fighters, Katz hollered into his radio, his breathing laboured by the strain of combat. "Okay, Paladins, hold it together!! Beowulf, use your guns. Use the guns!" An obvious alternative, but one that could easily be forgotten in the heat of battle; in the age of the missile it was all too easy to rely upon them. It was timely advice that Andresen heeded, scoring three more kills with his rail cannons, until he exhausted his ammunition and found himself defenceless.

"Oh, Jesus," he muttered. As he looked around at the enemy ships that screamed in on him from all directions, Andresen saw only his impending doom. There was nothing left for him to do, and with a gritty determination that would have stunned anyone who witnessed it, he turned his F-175 toward a trio of Predators - and charged. "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!" he screamed over the net, sure that he would die.

But the Amsus fighters had other ideas, and they scattered out of his way, two of them colliding with each other in their frantic attempt to escape the psychotic, suicidal pilot. Dodging cannon fire, Andresen again charged them, and again, they scattered. Two more moves of a similar nature, and the Predators decided to go after easier prey. Beowulf was free and clear.

"Sonofabitch!" he yelled into the net, incredulous at the realization that he was still alive. Surrounded by nothing but empty space, he dove headlong toward Katz and Jaimez, intent on doing whatever he could to help his embattled comrades. As he barrelled in on the Amsus predators, they too, scattered in all directions. Taking up the idea, Jaimez did the same, charging and shooting. Within seconds, the enemy fighters that had not been destroyed moved on to better game.

The trio had pulled themselves out of a very bad situation, and with no ammo and almost no fuel remaining, the three pilots beat a hasty retreat back to the safety of the carrier, having wiped out or driven off three full divisions of attacking fighters.

* * *

Darien smiled as he focused on the battle cruiser Excalibur was bearing down upon, its zero-point bore crackling as energy was fed directly into it. Nazzien looked towards the Highlord for confirmation, his hand hovering over the trigger.

"If you please." Darien said with a nod, as the Excalibur fired its primary cannon, the blazing bright shaft of light obliterating the enemy cruiser. The other Amsus ships scattered to get clear of the explosions, returning fire from powerful broadsides as the Excalibur plowed through the centre of their formation, its nuclear missiles launching and tracking as they vaporized the lighter support craft.

The return volley slammed into the Excalibur amidships, shaking the mighty vessel, alert signals going off as the bridge crew picked themselves up from where they sprawled. Darien caught the edge of a console and looked up as the most terrifying announcement flooded over the PAs.

"Amsus boarding parties have penetrated the ship!"

Darien looked in utter confusion back towards Commander Durnham who shook his head. "There's no indication of breaching pods, none of our hatches were forced... they just appeared onboard the ship."

"We need Marines," Darien ordered into his headset, realizing much to his horror that the Marine Colonel was languishing under house arrest and his men were in similar situations.

Copyright © 2011 Topher_Lydon; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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