William Fortchen - Action Stations

Turner felt a slight swaying movement and for a second thought that it was a shock wave from the explosions, until he realized that Concordia was under way and starting to accelerate. He held his breath. If they were going to lose a pump from not warming it up properly, it'd be now. The seconds passed and they continued to accelerate.

"Have the solution, sir," the navigation officer cried.

"Upload it to Ark Royal."

"Naomi."

"Here, Winston."

"You're the rally point. Put out a signal to all ships making way."

"What's left down there?"

"Scratch four carriers and most of the fleet, Naomi."

"Got it, Winston."

"Hail to captain of Concordia from Admiral Long," the comm officer interrupted.

"We didn't get that signal," he said calmly.

"Sir?"

"You heard me. We didn't receive that hail."

The radio operator grinned and flicked the channel off.

"If they find out later, you're cooked."

Turner saw Valeri coming up to join him on the bridge.

"Good work on the engines, Val."

"What about Long?"

"You know damn well what he wants, and that's for us to wait until he can come aboard. Val, if we wait, we're dead."

She laughed softly.

"Naomi, I'm having problems receiving Admiral Longs signal," he said, staring back at her screen. "How about you?"

She smiled. "The same problem here, Winston. I'll call you as soon as we get our birds out."

"Just hurry." And then he shut the signal down.

"Val, send a signal in the clear. 'Concordia is under way. All ships to rendezvous on us and proceed to Ark Royal at best possible speed. After that, get the data from weapons analysis and transfer the info on these new missiles to all ships. Maybe we can point defense against them after they're launched. I then want a burst signal out to Banbridge. Update on the battle, all ships' video records, transmissions sent and received. The hell with encoding, send it in the clear."

"In the clear?"

"If the news vids pick it up, that's fine with me," Turner said grimly. "No one's going to cover this shit up any longer. I want the truth out there for a change."

His new exec grinned and went over to the communications desk.

Turner looked back up at the chaos around the skyhook tower. The explosions were rippling away and around the edges of the fireballs he could see that another battleship, Malta, was gone as well.

Two of the battleships, however, were indeed under way, fire erupting from every gun position.

"We've got thirty, at least thirty bogies are veering in on us for an intercept!"

Winston held up the display controller and shifted the holo field in the middle of the room to ship's tactical display. In the center of the field was the image of Concordia. At the far edge of the field was a mass of blue and red lights, showing the spreading battle around the shattered skyhook base. A stream of blinking red lights was veering around the fight and setting up for a head-on attack.

Turner nodded and clicked the mike which he had attached to his collar.

"This is Turner. Launch all fighters, repeat launch all fighters. We have thirty plus incoming."

Prince Ratha let out a triumphal cry as the fleeing carrier came into view on the far side of the explosions tearing through the orbital base. For a moment he had feared that everything would be destroyed, leaving nothing for him to sink his talons into.

"This is Ratha!" he announced, ignoring code names. If the enemy should find out who would soon destroy them, so much the better so they could curse his name when they went to their underworld.

"I will lead the attack, form on me!"

Geoff watched, wide-eyed, as a fighter roared down the launch ramp and kicked through the airlock. Peacetime procedures were gone, and afterburners ignited as soon as it was on the far side of the shield.

He was startled by the jerk of the tractor hooked to his nosewheel, which pulled him out onto the ramp, putting him second in line, directly behind Vance. The tractor disconnected and darted to one side. The deck launch officer in front of Vance's fighter jumped aside, going down on one knee with left arm pointed towards the airlock.

The backwash from Vance's fighter rattled Geofl's ship as it raced down the ramp and slammed through the airlock.

"Tolwyn, you're next," a voice whispered in his headset.

"Tolwyn ready."

The confidence he had tried to instill in himself while waiting to launch was on the point of evaporating. It was truly his first time in a Wildcat. The simulator might provide a trainee with almost all the sensations, but no matter how realistic, there was always that realization that when the holo field blazed white, then snapped off, all one had to do was hit the reset button… but in real life there was no reset button.

He remembered to do a quick scan of his instruments, though at this point nothing short of a full engine shutdown would stop the launch. If there was a critical malfunction in any other system he was expected to launch anyhow, then get the hell out of the way and wait to die.

"Tolwyn… five, four…"

The launch officer in front of his plane darted to the left, dropped down on one knee and pointed forward.

"Launch!"

Geoff pushed the throttle up to fifty percent and, with inertial dampening cut off because he was still inside Concordias field, he felt the surge slamming him back into his seat. The star fields outside the airlock began to shift rapidly, and he had a moment of disorientation until he realized that the carrier was making a rapid turn. He felt a slight resistance as the fighter went through the airlock.

"Tolwyn clear!"

He instantly slammed the throttles forward, hit the afterburner switch, and popped out the maneuvering scoops, while at the same time pulling the stick back and to the right. The inertial dampening kicked in, the pressure on his spine easing off. He heard a beep in his headset, signaling that he had a clean connection back to Concordia's Combat Information Center, and that the center was downloading the updated data regarding the fight. His terminal screen lit up, working off the CIC data so that he did not have to light himself up by using his own radar.

"Tolwyn, form on my right!" It was Vance.

Anxiously he looked around. Where the hell was he? He felt as if all his senses were overloading. McAuliffe was in the background, and he could distinctly see the glow of explosions and smoke down on the planet's surface. A broken, jagged line extended up from the planet's surface-the skyhook tower, which was continuing to collapse, the force of gravity inexorably ripping it apart. Where the orbital base had been was now an apocalyptic nightmare of explosions.

"Tolwyn, form on my right!" It was Vance, but where the hell was he?

"Tolwyn set IFF transponder to 1144 now!"

Geoff punched in the numbers and a flashing blue light appeared on his screen-bearing 275, negative 60. He banked over and looked to the left, catching sight of a Wildcat down below.

"Form, Tolwyn, form, we're going in!"

Geoff tried to jockey the fighter in on Vance's right wing, and just when he thought he had it, Vance pulled his nose up.

"Stick to me like glue, damn it, if you want to live!"

Geoff yanked back on his stick, overcompensated and nearly went into a loop. He slammed the stick forward, overcompensated yet again, then finally leveled back out.

"Green squadron," Vance announced, "Going for the bombers… full throttle, three, two, one, go!"

Vance's fighter leaped forward and Geoff remembered that he had to cover Vance. It required that he keep one on the leader, while at the same time doing a constant scan, both visually and from the instruments, for anyone trying to intercept.

"I will block their fighters. Bombers, prepare to attack!" Ratha cried.