Chapter 13
"That's insane."
Bill Grey and Lomo Warren both shook their heads at the Admiral. Hendrix nodded in agreement, but followed it up with a shrug. "Gentlemen, there is little else we can do. The attack is going ahead. We can't let them keep Macbeth and expect to consolidate our position. That planet is vital for raw materials, and it is an effective striking platform for attacks around the rest of the Lylat System. The first cruise missiles have started striking Corneria and Katina, and it's been decided that this must cease."
They were discussing the next move over a light snack in the Admiral's reception room. The ornate table they were standing around had a simple meal upon it- a plate of crackers with some wine. Commander Warren put down his glass. "But what about the defence of Zoness? The enemy forces in Sector Z…"
"Are no longer there." Hendrix pressed a button on a remote control, and a hologram of the Lylat System materialized over the table. He pointed at a spot around Zoness. "We are here, and this is how our forces have been deployed."
A plethora of green and blue icons representing armor and infantry battalions, starfighter and bomber squadrons, missile silos, starship fleets and bases appeared. "These moves by the enemy were relayed to the fleet by intelligence operatives working with the resistance on Venom." On the hologram, a number of red icons appeared, clustered around Macbeth, Sector Z and Venom. The red icons in Sector Z moved towards Venom, and a number of icons over Macbeth and Venom moved to face Titania.
"Why are they doing that? What's so special about Titania?" Asked Bill.
"My guess is as good as yours, but we've got a lot of forces down there. Maybe they anticipate an attack."
"Maybe it's another feint." Muttered Lomo. "I don't like this."
"Well it is way beyond me now. General Rathcoat and Fleet Admiral Winston have both approved it."
"Is this the same kind of intelligence that failed to forewarn us of their assault?" Bill asked, letting as much cynicism into his voice as he could.
"Perhaps you doubt what I have given you?" A voice emerged from the adjoining conference room, and following the voice came the speaker; a tall badger wearing the rank of Commander. He had some freshly healed cuts on his face.
"Commander Pontac, your presence has not been requested." Said the Admiral sternly.
"Who's that?" Asked Bill.
"That is the man that brought us up to speed on the current situation. Resistance fighters on Venom helped him hijack a small transport and he got here after eluding enemy forces at Sector Z. He thought we might have been holding there. Commander Grey, Commander Warren, this is Commander Pontac, Cornerian Military Intelligence."
The three Commanders saluted.
"So, Commander Pontac, now that you're here, why don't you explain to the two gentlemen what you explained to High Command."
"Of course." Pontac cleared his throat. "While on Venom, the resistance forces I linked up with obtained a comm receiver from a downed enemy fighter. We intercepted most of the transmissions from their ground base to their fleet. When we learned of the imminent attack on Macbeth we concocted a plan to get me offworld and to relay the attack to you people. Unfortunately, we were set back, and by the time we could launch Macbeth was already lost. Still, we learned of a new attack on Titania, and I went offworld anyway. We believe there is a reasonable chance that they will leave Macbeth temporarily undefended."
"A reasonable chance." Bill echoed. "Now why would they want to take Titania?"
"I'm not sure, but they're doing it." Replied Pontac. "Commander Grey, I know there are risks involved, but the opportunity is there. Macbeth has vast stores of raw materials, as well as hundreds of tanks, artillery and spacecraft that lay dormant in their bases while their pilots were massacred on the ground. We can't pass it up."
"Well what if it's a carefully engineered trap set by them to completely annihilate this fleet?" Asked Commander Warren warily. At this Admiral Hendrix nodded silently.
"It might be, but consider the situation. We are on the back foot. We have to take Macbeth back before they can consolidate their hold on it. If they put its resources into good use we're done." Said Pontac. "Gentlemen, you are more familiar with the gravity of the situation than I am- I am more familiar with the intricacies of the situation than you are. It would be wise to go forward with this I think. Trap or not, it's something we must do."
"Great, so we just fight our way out of the perfect trap then, if it is?" Commander Grey asked sarcastically.
"I never said that…"
"Forget it. Those are the orders of High Command, and we gotta follow'em." Commander Grey gave Pontac an icy stare. "But that doesn't mean I like'em, and it doesn't mean we can fulfill them. But if you're wrong Commander," Bill Grey turned, unable to find a phrase appropriate to finish with.
"Commander Grey, Bill, I am staying with the fleet, if I am wrong, I will pay the price too."
"Yeah, along with 8000 Cornerians and Katinians. Big hero." Commander Grey was about to leave when Hendrix stopped him.
"Your formal orders." Said the Admiral. The lion put a datapad in Bill's hand.
Bill saluted the Admiral, then walked out.
Whether I like it or not, this is what's happening. The most any of us can do right now is hope that Pontac is right and fight for our lives. If he's not, we fight for our lives anyway. There's just worse odds the second way.
Fuzzy surveyed his handiwork.
Not bad, if I do say so myself.
The twelve fighters of Husky Squadron had been outfitted with rechargeable shields, each having slightly different components from each other due to lack of availability of parts.
"Leena, what've we got left on our budget?"
The border collie glanced at a datapad. "We still have Don's five antique Speedball cards, the antique book from Perry and a squadron resource pool of 342 bucks."
"Well then let's return what we can." Fuzzy looped an arm around Leena's shoulders. "I think this achievement calls for a celebration."
"Well what about a visit to the bar? We're off duty." Robin yelled from a fighter cockpit. He slid out and joined the two canines by the fighter's nose.
"Ah, thank the Gods for the Katinian Navy." Fuzzy grinned. Had the Katinians adopted the same strict no-alcohol practices as the Cornerian Navy, it would have been just that much more difficult to unwind, or celebrate. The navy had great faith that the pilots and crew would engage in responsible drinking. They were therefore not excessively familiar with certain elements of Husky Squadron.
"Better get ourselves cleaned up first, though." Said Robin. "Especially you, Fuzzy."
"What?" Fuzzy glanced down at his oil-streaked work clothes.
Leena rolled her eyes. "C'mon Fuz, your face is worse than your clothes. You're not going anywhere looking like that."
"Leena..!" Fuzzy threw up his paws. "You're both ganging up on me now!" He rubbed his face on his sleeve. "You didn't care how I looked back in the Academy."
Leena laughed. "That's because we were always in uniform and you didn't start showing off the mechanic in you until the last year. C'mon, I'll help you get cleaned up."
Robin threw them an amused glance. "Might I get the impression you two would be interested in getting some of your own 'celebration' happening? Like in a quiet part of the ship?"
At this Fuzzy's and Leena's expressions went from jovial to exasperated. "Step away from the gutter, Rob." Fuzzy said warningly.
"What, been there, done that?" asked the Robin wryly.
"Why you..!" Leena advanced on Robin menacingly. The avian threw up his wingtips and smiled somewhat fearfully. "All right! I quit! I give! HEY!"
Fuzzy had given Robin a quick punch in the arm. "'Nuff of that." The Husky said, smiling. Of course he and Leena had been great friends for ages, and something slightly more back at the Academy, but since they graduated, they spent a good deal of time apart and made new relationships. Now they just remained really good friends. Not that Robin would know; he had just graduated short of a year ago, and was the baby of the Squadron before Keeler was accepted.
"Still, you do have a point." Fuzzy said.
"What?" Robin asked, bemused. "You mean, you two… are…?"
"No!" Fuzzy poked Robin in the head. "I mean I need to get cleaned up! This oil's sticking to my fur. We'll meet in the bar in an hour, 'kay?"
"Sounds good to me, Fuz. See you there." Leena gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked off to the hangar entrance.
"What about you, Rob?"
The robin took on a feminine pose and a falsetto voice. "Sounds good to me, Fuz. See you there." Fuzzy had to push him off when Robin leaned in for the kiss. "Dammit that's not funny, Rob!"
The Robin laughed "Don't look so concerned! I get out with more chicks than you, since you spend more time messing around drinking, playing cards and analyzing fighter schematics."
Fuzzy chuckled. "In ya dreams, bud. Ask Callie when we get back who gave her the night of her life!"
Robin gave back a single "Ha." Then he set off too.
You're actually more right than I'd like to admit. Dammit, just cause I have to bloody well take care of the fighters when we're not flying'em… You do your role for the squadron in the cockpit telling us where to go and I have to stay back at the base checking out these things and their schematics while you go for a night on the town, playbird.
Fuzzy sighed.
Still, I do need to spend less time on the job. Wonderful going, we're at war now so I don't have a say in the matter.
Fuzzy grabbed his tools and started back for his quarters. Maybe at the bar later there'd be someone he could get together with.
Bill sat at the bar. It had the usual activity about it, a number of enlisted men, women, and officers all coming down to unwind and relax after their duty shifts were done. The bartender came up to him. "What'd you like, sir?"
"Whiskey, on the rocks." Bill laid seven Katinian dollars on the bar. Whisky was getting cheaper.
"Yes sir." The bartender went off to get Bill's order. He noticed the three pilots who were working on the starfighters earlier sitting and chatting away happily. He had gotten their report just barely a few minutes ago, and hadn't read it yet, but he decided not to disturb them. There was another one, a female flight officer from Lightning Squadron, who was with them, sitting very close to Pawson.
Husky Twelve's taking risks. Just like this whole fucking fleet.
"Your whiskey sir." The bartender slid Bill a full glass. Bill nodded appreciatively.
"Billy, buddy, what's the latest word from the top?" Perry took the seat next to Bill's. He ordered a beer, asking the bartender to charge it to his wage.
"Well, we're striking in two days, that's when the enemy is expected to move." Bill replied in a low voice. "All out assault."
Perry leaned heavily on the bar. "Great."
"Tell me about it." Bill took another sip of his whiskey.
"I heard you stormed out of the Admiral's meeting. Not too happy, eh?"
Bill chuckled shortly. "Yeah, well, nothing really to stay for. Who told you that, Lomo?"
"Absolutely." Perry drank some if his beer. "Look at that, boys, Pontac thinks he's good. Well he's not. I think he's going to get the whole fleet killed!"
"I hope not." Bill's mind snagged on something Perry had said. "Wait a second, how do you know Pontac?"
"How could I not know?" Perry moaned. "He's been walking around the ship telling everyone how good a job they've been doing and wishing them good luck for upcoming battles."
"I swear that dumbass's going to tip off the invaders before we even brief the pilots." Bill said, exasperated. "How'd he become an intelligence agent like that?"
"Do I sense disapproval, Commander Grey?" The unseen voice again.
"That's probably how." Muttered Perry.
"You love sneaking up on people, don't you?" Bill said flatly. But Pontac was already walking away, out the door.
"Weird guy." Bill went back to his whiskey.