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Chapter 3: Red, Green, and Blue
The classes met in a classroom for day two of their training. They were assembled at their desks when Tyr walked in, wearing clean uniforms for a change. He immediately proceeded to draw seven dots on the board, in a delta formation.
"Good Morning, everyone sit…. Lets start with the basics…. The Delta formation is used for bombing missions; bombers fly level with each other, and drop their ordinance without hitting each other." He stopped; several cadets were taking notes, "It allows for the carpet bombing of targets, while maintaining the smallest possible radar signature. It can help mask your numbers."
He continued like this for a while, going over everything from the Diamond to the Claw formations, explaining the intricacies of keeping a tight formation, and the proper way to split from the formation. At least no one fell asleep this time. He had spent the entire morning working on this lesson, which he had written up as a list of things to talk about, he was almost finished, only one last item…
"We're going to be dividing into three teams." He started; the cadets all sat up straight, "Red Flight, Green Flight, and Blue Flight. There are seven cadets per team, and I am going to let you pick teams, I expect three rosters by the end of the third shift. I will be in the officer's mess waiting, if I don't get any rosters by then, I will be making them up myself." He finished,
"Sir, are the flights going to compete against each other?" Cadet Ravelton asked,
"Indeed, on and off the battlefield. When you are flying practice, your team will be awarded points based on skill, formation, and 'kills'. In actual combat, you get a kill chart. Winning Flight gets bragging rights." He said. Competition was a good way to keep morale high… as long as it was controlled…
"Any other questions?" he asked,
"When are we getting into the cockpit?" One of the Genome asked,
"We've already been in it…" he joked, drawing a few stifled chuckles, "Practical flight takes place next lesson, easy stuff, pitch, yaw, thruster control, etc."
"Any chance for competition in it?" From the same cadet, Tyr thought about this for a moment…
"Team with the best results eats in the officer's mess that evening." He said, drawing a few excited glances, the food in the OM was undeniably superior to that of the ship's mess. "Dismissed." He said, and the class began to file out, it was going to be interesting when he saw the rosters later this evening.
Taking a jog around the flight deck was not a normal thing for him to do. Tyr normally stuck to the gym, but he couldn't concentrate with the noise of a hundred weights slamming back into place, or two hundred feet on a treadmill, and while it wasn't exactly quiet on the deck, it wasn't nearly as bad, and most of the deck crew were on break, the few he could see were either working on missile storage racks, or on ships...
Collecting his thoughts again, he thought long about the 'nuggets' as the captain called the new recruits. He didn't know any of them well enough to get an idea of what the teams would be like, in his academy days, he had been on an entirely Burmecian squad, they had perfected the tactic now known as 'Starfire' in most handbooks, and it did give them the credit, 'Red Squad #177' as they had been known.
Starfire was a tactic that was more for striking fear into the enemy then anything; it was relatively useless in most situations unless the fighter squad were to be totally surrounded on all sides. The fighters would go into a sphere formation, each facing a outwards at a different direction, then, they would fire two missiles, and as much tracer ammo they could, the light from this had been known to temporarily blind pilots who were not wearing their visors.
He continued to reminisce about this when he heard someone jogging just behind him, looking back, he saw two humans, one he recognized as Cadet Ravelton, and another he thought to be Lieutenant Thrye, one of the shrike pilots. He stopped, allowing them to catch up. They both caught up, stopping to catch their breath.
"Yes Cadet, Lieutenant?" he asked,
"I have the roster sir." She said, breathing heavily, "I had the Lieutenant help me with it."
"Let me see it…" Tyr said, taking the paper from her outstretched hand,
'Red Squadron; Cadets Kyra Ravelton, Sharon Dowherty, Linzani Rebile, Derick Thype, Dyrion Adara, Geit Menselforth, Lyreah Fletcher'
Three Humans, three Burmecians and one Genome. He thought, and they weren't bad students as far as he could see.
"Alright, thank you Cadet, make sure you organize your squad, leader, and both left and right wings." He said, folding the list and putting it into his pocket.
"Thank you sir." She said, walking off, thinking for a moment as she left, his thoughts were disturbed by a loud noise to his left. Twisting around, he saw the ammunition rack coming apart under the weight of the missiles; they began clattering to the ground one by one. He cursed, as he flung himself behind one of the Shrike fighter chassis on the ground, which was none too late, as one of the projectiles ignited, exploding near where he had been standing…
"You're just lucky that was a fighter to fighter missile, if it had been a capital ship missile, we would be missing this half of the bay." The master at arms said, a tall silver haired Burmecian woman with a large notch in her left ear. "The junior deck hands overstocked the case, and it collapsed under the stress, it was just lucky only one went off, and it didn't set off the rest." The hole in the deck plates was almost a meter deep, and 4 meters in diameter. Black scorch marks radiated from the center.
"Thank you Specialist. Any idea when the deck will be repaired? I'm using it for class tomorrow." He said,
"We can fill it in with PlastiCrete, and then put a steel cap over it. Best the deck chief can do on short notice."
"Ask him for me." He said before a couple of the cadets found their way over to him,
"Sir, we heard you were in sick bay." He said, sounding shaky, "Half the class was down there looking for you."
"Tell them I am fine, and that I still expect those rosters by tonight." He said, pulling out the roster he had gotten from Cadet Ravelton. "I've already gotten one, so that leaves only two-thirds of you, better get cracking." He said, leaving the cadet to deliver the message, he didn't feel like walking down to the sickbay. It was mid afternoon, and he was getting hungry.
Walking to the officer's mess could be a chore some days, it depended on what kinds of activity was going on in the hallway, sometimes you had to use all the unused corridors, and unlit areas where most power had been cut off from, relatively unknown areas of the ship, there had never been enough crew to fully stock the carrier, so they quarantined some areas from everything but basic life support.
Well, Tyr was now in one of these corridors, a dark, dry place, devoid of all noise except for the rhythmic thump of the engines. Quietly walking towards the hatch door, he reflected on things, most of these things we're the crewmembers who had blocked his way to the mess, he could have squeezed around a downed cargo trolley, but the engineering crew was to preoccupied with trying to save it, keeping him away for fear that he might damage something.
Reaching the hatch, the light overhead an amber yellow, he turned the wheel three times to the right, and pushed the heavy door open. Walking out, he was only a few feet away from the mess when someone yelled his name, turning, he saw the Master at Arms running up towards him…
"I've been… looking for you…" she huffed, "The explosion… wasn't an accident…"
"What?" he asked, the master at arms catching her breath,
"We thought it might be metal fatigue from over stacking them, but when I looked into it, I saw that it should easily have been able to have withstood that much weight, so I looked at the actual structure of the shelf, and the straps that held them in place." She said, lifting up a cut piece of the heavy-duty straps that held the missiles into place,
"It's been cut…" Tyr said,
"And the shelf had several of the supports removed, this was meant to happen, someone tried to get that missile to fall on you." She said, "The only question is why…"
"Simple, I am the only one with the ability to train the new cadets, without me, no one would know how to fly the Auroras, which keeps the fights in Alexandrian favor." He deduced,
"You think we have a spy aboard?" She asked,
"Probably a few of them." He said,
"I will inform the captain of your suspicions, and he will tell me how to proceed… in the meantime, stay to the general corridors for me, no more jaunts through the quarantine zones. I will try and get an armed detail to escort you." She said, running off. Now, not only was he fighting a war, but he had to look over his shoulder every ten seconds, surrounded by bodyguards…
Sitting in the mess hall, he ate as he looked over the class roster, a full list of the cadets, which he was crossing off as he got the rosters, it was getting late, and he was about to start singling out the two teams when one of the cadets walked into the mess…
"Cadet Engil sir, I have our roster…" she said, passing over the list… He looked it over,
'Blue Squadron; Cadets Damion Chase, Chris Hart, Abagain Engil, Gideon Thye, Sam Hakisawa, Doug Ghala, Frederick Sefiter'
Four Humans, and three Genome, he could see a few of the hot shots and braggarts had made the list. The general stupid and or arrogant people that made up the majority of the trouble makers… why wasn't he surprised…
"Alright Cadet, be ready first thing in the morning." He said, placing the roster next to the class list, he was about to go back to his soup when another cadet ran in, disorganized and red in the face, which, for a Genome meant he had been running for some time now.
"Am I late?" he asked,
"No Cadet, you made it." Tyr said, disapproving of the cadet's appearance, taking the roster from his hand. The names on the list didn't surprise him; neither did the balance of four Burmecian and three Genome, being as they had been the only ones left,
'Green Squadron; Cadets Reag Sevsper, Weyr Forretus, Erin Saerg, Terra Silvia, Sierra Highland, Ceawen Eihs, Aeri Campgne'
"Report to the hanger deck in the morning Cadet." He said, pulling all three rosters together inside of a black folder he used to organize the information… He had one last thing to do before he retired to bed, getting up, he walked out the door, only to find himself surrounded on either side by two burly marines,
"We were sent to provide protection by the Master at Arms." The taller one said,
"Unnecessary, I am just going to the Pilot's Racks, near the flight deck." He said, not waiting for an answer. Walking swiftly down the flight deck corridors, he reached the bunks where the pilots were to sleep; on the wall there was a cork announcement board, papers left over from the Alexandrian days still tacked up on the walls. Tearing these down, he posted the three rosters, and a chart, depicting each team, the pilots on that team, and an empty box for the kill charts.
Turning after a brief look at them, he walked towards his own quarters, tomorrow was the first flight, he had better get some sleep… because if he knew that half the cadets wouldn't have gotten much, staying up half the night studying the manuals…