Enemy Inbound
Maniac awoke the next morning with a terrible hangover. To make matters worse, his COMM was beeping. He groaned for a bit and rolled over to answer his COMM. "What?" he said.
"Sir," began Anderson. "We have telemetry coming back from one of our SWACS. You better get up here on the double."
"On my way," groaned Maniac. He shut his COMM off and went back to sleep. His COMM beeped again. "WHAT?"
"Don't go back to sleep, sir," said Anderson. "This is extremely urgent."
Maniac swore profusely under his breath as he got up and got dressed. As he left his quarters, he grabbed the first person he saw by the shirt and pulled him to his face. "Go to the Mess Hall," he said. "Get two cups of black coffee. Bring them to me on the Bridge."
The random personnel member just nodded his head repeatedly. "Um y-y-yes, sir," he stammered before running off to get Maniac his coffee.
"I love having the authority to push people around," Maniac said with a chuckle as he headed for the lift to the Bridge. When he got there, everyone was scrambling about like chickens without heads. "I miss something?"
Anderson motioned him over to the console he was sitting at and pointed towards the screen. "Look at this, sir," he said.
Maniac looked at it for a moment and then shrugged. "What am I looking at?" he asked.
"It's the retaliation for yesterday," said Drake from the door.
"The what?" Maniac said spinning around.
"The retaliation for Omega Squadron's hitting that carrier group," Drake said slower.
"Ah," said Maniac looking behind Drake. "My coffee's here." He pushed passed an indignant Drake and took his two cups of coffee from the crewman. The crewman slipped off quickly before Maniac could order him to do anything else.
Drake just looked on as Maniac chugged both cups of coffee. "You done?" she asked.
"Just about," said Maniac, who then let out a large belch. "Now I'm done."
"Good," said Drake. "This is the situation. We have two Corvettes and fifty fighters of various types inbound."
Maniac almost choked up his coffee. "Did you say fifty fighters?"
"Yes, and that new fighter is among them."
"How soon will they get here?"
"Just under three hours," said Anderson from his console.
"Well then we scramble our fighters to take them ship-to-ship," said Maniac. "What is the big deal here?"
"For starters," said Drake. "We only have forty-seven pilots remaining. Of those forty-seven, three are with the SWACS, which has plotted an alternate route to get back to us. They'll return in five hours. That leaves us with forty-four pilots. Of those there are only fourteen currently on duty. The rest are either asleep or relaxing in Pilot Country."
"Then we wake everyone up!" shouted Maniac. He walked over to the squawk and flipped it on. "This is Commodore Marshall to all hands. We have major enemy inbound. All pilots are to be flight-ready by the time they get within range. This applies to ALL pilots, not just those on duty. So for everyone in Pilot Country, the bar is officially closed until further notice. Commodore Marshall out!" Maniac turned around and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" demanded Drake.
"I'm getting suited up and I'm going out with the rest of the pilots," he said.
"Oh no you're not!" said Drake. "You haven't flown in years, and you don't have medical clearance."
"I'm clearing myself," replied Maniac.
"Do I have to pull rank?" threatened Drake.
"Shove it, Commander," he replied. "I'm going. If you want to file yet another official protest do so. But right now get the hell out of my way."
Drake stood there and watched him go. Silently she turned her head to look at Anderson. He just shrugged and turned back towards his console.
Maniac stormed through the Pilot Deck. He pushed open door after door, sometimes opening the door to the rooms of a few of the female pilots, who screamed. When at last he found Maestro's room, he shook the bunk to get him awake.
"Hey!" Maestro said from under the blanket. "Buzz off, will ya!"
"Get up, Maestro!" ordered Maniac. "You're flying on my wing. Kiss Chameleon goodbye and tell her you'll see her later. C'mon, get up!" Chameleon stuck her head out from under the blanket to see what was going on.
"I miss something?" she asked.
"Yeah, sweetheart," said Maniac. "Time to turn and burn!" With that he stormed off to find Zero and Spyder.
The Omegas assembled in the Mess Hall for breakfast. They were all busy gulping down coffee to either try and sober up or get more awake. Maniac stormed in with Maestro, Zero, and Spyder all in tow and marched right up to their table. "You guys are to take that Ace down at all costs," he said to them. They all looked at him like stunned sheep. "Am I speaking Kilrathi? I said you guys are taking down that Ace."
"Yes, sir," they all managed to respond. Maniac marched off to continue his surge of whatever it was that he was on to motivate him. The Omegas stared at one another blankly for a few moments. Then they scrambled off and hurried to the hangar bay. Midnight sprinted to where the Cobras were docked. Once there, he moved all about his fighter, looking thoughtful. The others caught up to him and looked to see what he was doing.
"What in the hell are you doing?" asked Bitch.
"Thinking," Midnight replied.
"About what?" asked Tracer.
"Ssssh," responded Midnight. "Just shut up for a few moments and let me think."
Rapier looked at those on his wing. Though they already had their game faces on, he could see that they were all a bit rattled. He looked over to the Cobras they had used to take down the fleet. They were beat to hell and the maintenance people were busy hammering and welding them back together. The Cobras they were about to use for the mission looked brand new by comparison. Midnight had his eyes closed and his hand on the side panel of his Cobra. A maintenance tech dropped one of his tools and Midnight snapped out of his contemplation. "I can't think of anything that'll save us this time," he said.
"I've got an idea," said Bitch.
"Let's hear it," said Rapier.
"Just engage 'em ship-to-ship and kill every last one that dares get in your face," she said.
"I hear that," said Tracer. Rapier smiled, as he liked that idea too.
"And it won't be too hard to do either," said Bitch. "They've got fifty, we've got forty four."
"Forty-five," said Maniac from behind them. "I'm going out as well."
"Sir?" asked Chameleon. "Is that a good idea?"
"Nope," said Maniac. "But I'm going to do it anyway."
It was now one hour until the Nephilim would be within range of the Palau. Midnight was sitting in his Cobra, thinking. Rapier was, likewise, doing the same in his Cobra. The rest of the Omegas were sitting down playing poker and waiting. Tracer popped his gum as he laid down his cards. Maestro came over behind Chameleon and wrapped his arms around her. Bitch stood up and began pacing.
"Sit down," said Princess. "You'll wear a hole in the deck."
"Why are we just sitting here?" Bitch asked.
"Two reasons," said Waborita. "The first is that the Palau is their target."
"Duh," said Bitch.
"Let me finish a thought before you criticize," said Waborita. Bitch just put her hands up to concede to him. "The enemy fighters, especially at this range, can take steps to avoid meeting our fighters if we go out to meet them now. Thus the Palau would be defenseless, or wouldn't have enough fighters remaining behind to fend off the attack. The second reason sounds cheesy, but it's true."
"Well?" asked Bitch. "What is it?"
"Our chances for success go up by having the Palau's guns shooting at the enemy, too." he said.
"That's the stupidest thing I ever heard," said Princess.
"I didn't say I thought it was a smart move," said Waborita. "I just said our chances improve."
Tracer popped his gum again joined the conversation to say, "Regardless, this is going to be a messy battle. A lot of us won't be coming home."
Everyone lowered their heads at Tracer's sudden insightful, if not blindingly obvious statement.
"C'mon," said Waborita. "Let's get back to the game."
Everyone sat back down to play a few more hands. Inside his Cobra, Rapier began to pray. "Merciful Father," he began. "We sit now on the brink of oblivion. I know that many of those who will be going out to face the darkness will not return. I want you to know that I am not asking for my life. But rather, I am offering it up in exchange for those in my Squadron. They are more to me than just my friends and shipmates. They are my family. If you have to take anyone today, please let it be me instead of one of them. Amen."
To be continued..,
