Chapter 11

Far ahead of the Katinian fleet, the fighters of Husky Squadron were continuing their battle. Francine Bastion, leader of Two Flight, had caught a number of enemy fighters preparing to launch. She fired one of her remaining nova bombs down the enemy carrier's launch tunnel, crippling that vessel and obliterating the squadron inside.

More, though, swarmed in towards her front and rear. The enemy fighters vaguely resembled the Invader-class fighters of the old Venomian forces, but these were tougher, better armed, and just as agile. Francine lined up a well-placed burst of fire, aimed at the four fighters coming at her head on. Three of her enemies broke away, but one, obviously inexperienced, was trying to fire on Francine's fighter, flying straight into her shots. As that opponent vaporized in Francine's sights, another four took up position behind her. Something struck the rear of her fighter, but no major damage was reported.

"This is Husky five, I'm getting swamped here." She made a hard turn to port. One of the fighters was coming in too fast and its turn went too wide, but the others tightened their own flight paths accordingly. She rolled to starboard and pulled up hard, then applied a hard yaw to port, cutting away from her pursuers. However, instead of attempting to turn to starboard and give chase, all three had followed their port turn around, and were quickly pulling in from behind. They were too far from her to strike with lasers, but Francine knew they wouldn't try that tactic unless they had a reason. Her headset sounded an alarm and confirmed her fears; they were going for a missile lock. "Husky Five here, I need help!"

"This is Husky Six, I… whoa! Can't help, got some on my tail!" Keeler's shots went well wide of the bogeys on Francine's tail, and he had to swerve away from his flight leader to stay alive. The beeping alarm in Francine's headset grew more urgent, and she tried a hard yaw to port coupled with a firing of her retros. But a glance at her sensors registered that they were still behind her, and that they had achieved a missile lock.

"This is Husky Seven, I'm going in!" Blaze Walters had suddenly interposed his ship in-between Francine's and the oncoming fighters, and had already lined up for a head-to-head run with them.

A swathe of laser bolts cut in at the enemy fighters, but amazingly they returned fire and avoided most of Husky Seven's shots without running into each other. Blaze fired a missile without waiting to achieve a lock. The three enemy fighters broke in all directions, and even avoided most of the fireball when Blaze remotely detonated the warhead. Still it did the trick, they no longer had a lock on Francine, and they hadn't gotten a shot off at her.

"Thanks, Seven."

Three LF-220's from Fang Squadron zipped by Francine's cockpit canopy, in pursuit of a flight of four enemy ships. Then another seven enemy ships followed in pursuit of them. Francine turned to assist.

"Fang Nine, get your people to wax those bandits now, you got bogeys on your tail!"

"Right… Hold on!"

The three Fangs ahead fired off some shots, destroying two of their targets. Then they broke in three separate directions. Most of the enemy fighters broke off after the LF-220's immediately, but one hesitated. That was all Francine needed. A volley of lasers took care of that one, but the others had successfully stayed on the Fangs.

An terrified scream over the comm and an explosion to Francine's right marked the end of Fang 11. She turned in that direction and lay into one of the killers, before the other one zoomed off at a vector too sharp for her to follow. Instead she pulled in towards Fang 9 and Fang 10, managing to get behind the fighters chasing Nine. But her shots missed, with the two enemy fighters having turned hard just as she was lining up. Fang Ten was coming up straight ahead, with another two fighters chasing him. Fang Nine was already firing at the pursuers, but they managed to veer away, easily avoiding Nine's hasty shots.

One made the mistake of dodging right into Francine's sights. three shots riddled the fighter, not causing any explosions, but leaving gaping holes in its top, one of them dead center on the cockpit.

These guys are good! We're getting kills, but not the ones that count. We're just stripping them of the weakest of their pilots while their best live on to fight and kill another day.

Bill's voice came over the comm. "All fighters, there's a change in orders; the fleet is pulling out and we need everyone back at the carrier. Blow up what you can then go full throttle back to the Archangel. I want Fang, Demon and Bulldog Squadrons to go over Macbeth's north pole, full speed. Huskies, follow me around the south, go regular speed at first, arm nova bombs."

At that command, survivors from the other three squadrons under Bill's command broke away from the battle, some boosting so suddenly that enemy fighters were caught off guard that they were left behind, others performing last minute maneuvers or destroying what threats they could before jetting off.

Francine found Bill's fighter highlighted on her HUD and pulled in behind him.

"Two Flight, Report!"

"Six here, I've had some wing damage, but I'm OK."

"This is Seven, I'm in good shape."

"This is Eight." The voice was labored, breathing heavily. "I caught shrapnel when one of my indicator consoles exploded. I can fly, but fighting will be tough."

Francine thought a moment. "Eight, stay close to me, you'll be fine. I know what Bill has in mind. After our runs, we'll just go straight back to the Archangel."

"Yes ma'am."

Matt watched the enemy fleet recede behind him. A small number of fighters were giving chase, but the Huskies' evasive maneuvers easily threw off their aim.

These guys must be the rookies of their fleet.

Husky was going over the frozen south pole of Macbeth, alone, with the other three squadrons of the 3rd tactical fighter wing taking a northerly route. The lead ships in his squadron suddenly boosted, and all the Huskies followed suit, using their ships' excellent acceleration to leave behind their foes. Though the enemy fighters had an almost equal top speed, their lower engine power meant that they could not reach that speed as quickly as the Huskies could. Enemy fire became less intense and less accurate. Soon the Huskies were outside their enemies' missile range, and were coming around Macbeth back towards their carrier.

Dead ahead, as expected, were Fang, Demon and Bulldog Squadrons, tailed by a swarm of enemy fighters. They were perfectly lined up for the Huskies, whose approach had been hidden by the planet which they were orbiting. Some of the enemy craft ahead started to commence evasive maneuvers.

Matt didn't give them any more time to think. He launched his last nova bomb, and saw several more shoot out from various points into the enemy fighter cloud.

His visor darkened considerably, trying to compensate for the extreme brightness of the twelve blasts.

When his vision cleared, Matt saw that the enemy had been decimated. Starfighter parts and secondary explosions littered the space behind Demon Squadron. Those fighters that were left limped away from the battle scene.

"Unbelievable!!!" Someone yelled.

"They sure felt that one!" Said Commander Grey. "I think we all made Ace today!"

Husky Squadron's fighters flew in towards their spot on the deck of the Archangel, behind Fang Squadron this time. "Husky Six, you fired a bomb before any of us. Why didn't you wait for the order to fire?"

Matt paused. He had fired early.

"Uhh, I don't know sir. It was just straight from instinct, I think."

"That's OK. I wasn't going to give the order anyway. That trick has never required an order to be given during execution, and no Husky has ever needed one. Following your instincts is the first sign of being a Husky."

Matt felt pride well up inside him, as he guided his fighter down onto the Archangel.

"Sir, all fighters secure."

Admiral Hendrix allowed himself to smile despite the events that had just taken place. At least he was leaving with his fleet more or less intact. Some stray CDF fighters from Macbeth had even found their way to the fleet and were sitting on the deck, locked down, with their pilots being helped to the airlock under an atmosphere containment field.

"Helm, prepare for warp. We'll be clearing the anti-warp field soon." Hendrix watched the sensor screens. The enemy fleet was coming on fast. But they wouldn't reach him in time to do any damage.

Something behind him beeped. "We're clear of the field. Engaging warp drives."

Lines of light shot past the bridge, then the carrier escaped into warp-space.