As I mentioned in my last chapter, this chapter and the one before it are not in chronological order; the first and second parts of this chapter are happening simultaneously as the events in chapter 3, while the last part takes place a few minutes after.
Chapter 4
Wayward Station, High Orbit, Actium
May 6, 2545
0812
Amber
Amber fanatically banged on the elevator controls. When that failed to make the elevator magically travel any faster, she punched them out of frustration.
"Come on! Can't this fucking thing go any faster?" Amber yelled.
"Amber, could you please calm down?" Poolsie pleaded.
Amber shot her a glare and was about to point out Poolsie herself looked like she was on the verge of panicking, when Poolsie threw a significant glance at the other occupants in the elevator. Standing behind them in the elevator car was an old lady and probably her two grandkids. The younger of the two, a boy that looked to be about one, didn't appear to have a clue as to what was going on, but he did look as if he was having the time of his life. The older one though, a little girl probably about four or five, clearly knew something was happening and Amber felt her heart break at the terrified look on her face.
The little girl was staring straight at Amber with wide eyes, and looked like she was about to cry. Given that she had a baby sister who was thirteen years younger than her, Amber knew how a toddler reacted to a situation they knew nothing about was largely influenced by the grownups surrounding them. So, seeing Amber on the verge of freaking out was probably making her freak out.
"Fuck," Amber muttered to herself before vigorously rubbing her face. She took a deep breath to try and calm herself down. It didn't really help, to be honest, so Amber figured the best to do right now was just to turn away so the kid couldn't see the expression on her face.
In the meantime, Poolsie had dropped down into a crouched so she could address the kid directly.
"Hi," Amber heard her say. "I'm Haley. What's your name?"
Through the reflection on the wall, Amber could see the little girl nervously glancing at her grandmother, who gave her an encouraging nod.
"Antje," she shyly said.
"That's a beautiful name!" Poolsie said encouragingly. "I wish I had your name! Haley is too boring."
The girl visibly brightened. "Mommy says it was her sister's name. Mommy says she was a hero cause she fought the monsters!" she proudly declared, then hesitated. "Nana says the monsters are coming. Are you going to fight the monsters too?"
Poolsie glanced in Amber's direction, and Amber could see her hiding a nervous look. "Yes, that's what we're going to do."
The little girl nodded, as if that's what she was expecting.
"I hope you come back," she unexpectedly said. "Mommy says her sister went to go fight monsters, but she never came back. Why didn't she want to come back?"
Amber could see Poolsie had no idea how to respond to that, so she decided to jump into the conversation.
"Ma'am, do you know where you need to go?" Amber asked the grandmother, who gave her a warm smile.
"There's a bunker in the middle of the station where all civilians are supposed to go to," Amber was told. "Are you ladies part of this station's crew?"
"No ma'am," Amber replied. "We're stationed aboard one of those ships out there. We're trying to get back to it."
The lady nodded and gave an encouraging smile as the elevator came to a stop and doors slid open. "Well, stay safe out there, you hear? And good luck. Come on kids, say goodbye to the nice soldiers."
Poolsie waved at Antje as all three of them walked off the car. As soon as they were clear, Amber punched the "close door" button with a bit more force than she intended.
"At least somebody aboard this fucking station knows where they're going," she snarled.
"Amber, you need to calm down," Poolsie urged. "It's not helping."
Amber did her best to not snap at her. She knew she needed to calm down, it just wasn't easy and Poolsie continually reminding her to calm down wasn't helping matters.
The problem wasn't so much that there was an invasion going on, it was that Amber had no idea what to do. Sure, she had spent countless hours running drill after drill, practicing what to do in the event of a Covenant invasion. She knew where her battle station was, where her backup battle station was, what to do if there was a hull breach, where to find the proper equipment if there was a fire, what station she had to report to if the Covenant began boarding the ship, and exactly how many meters she would have to go to find an escape pod in the event she needed to abandon ship. She even know how to do her section chief's job in the event he was wounded or killed.
The problem about all this was, all of her training was based on the assumption the Covenant would attack when she was on the Gabrielle, an assumption, she was quickly realizing, wouldn't always hold true. This was only her second time aboard Wayward Station and because of that, she really didn't know much about it. She didn't know where she was supposed to report to in the event of an attack, much less who she was supposed to report to. She didn't know where the armory was in the event the station was board, or where the emergency spacesuits were in the case of a hull breach. Hell, she didn't even know if this station was equipped with escape pods in the event she need to evacuate, though it stood to reason there had to be some way for everyone to escape in the event this station was about to be destroyed.
In short, at this point, Amber was about as helpless as those little kids that had just walked off the elevator.
"Just… take a deep breath Amber. We're going to head to the hanger bay, find a Pelican that will take us back to the Gabrielle, and then we'll be okay," Poolsie was saying.
Amber resisted the urge to snort. Even if there was a Pelican just waiting for them, which was doubtful as all military ships were supposed to be heading towards higher orbit to form a battle line, surely Amber and Poolsie weren't the only ones in this situation. And it was doubtful a Pelican would bother to deliver personnel to a ship that had already left port.
Of course, Poolsie no doubt knew that already, which was probably why it sounded like she was trying to reassure herself more than anything.
The elevator doors opened up to the hanger bay and Amber and Poolsie were greet with a mass of people milling around. Based on the uniforms and patches alone, there were Sailors and Marines from half a dozen different shipsand stations, a handful of Airmen, and at least one or two Army Troopers looking lost.
At the sight of the Soldiers, Amber felt a new wave of panic wash over her as she suddenly remembered her aunt was stationed on Actium's surface. Amber could only hope she was having more luck in getting ready for the impending attack.
"I wonder where we're supposed to go," Amber heard Poolsie mutter to herself.
In response, Amber walked up to the nearest sailor and grabbed him by the shoulder.
"Hey, Petty Officer!" Amber called out. "Do you know where we're supposed to go?"
"You trying to get back to your ship, shipmate?" he interrupted.
"Yeah. Me and her," Amber said, jerking her head in Poolsie's direction.
"Yeah? You and me both. I'm trying to get back to Byzas Station, only the last shuttle took off five minutes ago, and there are no more coming back."
"What are we supposed to do then?" Poolsie nervously asked.
The petty officer shrugged. "That's what we're trying to figure out now," he said, gesturing to everyone in the room.
"CAN I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION? I NEED EVERYONE'S ATTENTION ON ME PLEASE!"
Amber looked around to see a Navy O-2 standing on a box on the other side of the room, waving his hand.
"I realize all of you are trying to return to your assigned postings," the lieutenant began as the room fell silent. "Unfortunately, that is just not possible at this juncture. As a result, everyone in this room is being reassigned to this station! Because of that, I need all personnel who report to NAVCOM to gather on the port side of the room over here! All personnel who report to UNICOM, report to the starboard side of the room! Once you have done that, we will assign you all battle stations! That is all!"
The lieutenant stepped down from his box. Immediately the crowd began to split in two.
Grabbing a hold of Poolsie so they wouldn't get separated, Amber forced her way to where she was supposed to go. It wasn't easy as the vast majority of the room was headed in the same direction, and everyone was getting urged on by a sense of fear and uncertainty.
"Okay," the same lieutenant from before began as soon as the room had split. "I need anyone with an aviation rating, or has anything to do with aircraft maintenance, to go see Chief Shaffer over there! Anyone with a weapons specialty rating, go see FC1 McCreary over there!"
The lieutenant continued to shout out directions, but Amber was no longer listening. "Come on Poolsie!" Amber said, grabbing her by the hand. Together they shoved their way through the crowd until they reached the petty officer they were supposed to report to.
"You FC1 McCreary?" Amber demanded.
"Weapons ratings? Which ones?" McCreary said instead.
"Gunner's Mate Owain," Amber immediately rattled off.
"And I'm a Missile Tech; MT Pool!" Poolsie hastily added.
"Okay, you two, come with me!"
McCreary immediately took off and Amber hastily chased after him.
"Hey FC1, have you heard anything about... well, anything? How far away the Covenant are, how many there are, fleet composition, that sort of thing?" Amber called out to McCreary.
"Na," was his response. "Though I heard one of our battle groups is getting thrown out there to try and slow the Covies down."
"Which one?" Poolsie anxiously asked.
"Battle Group Tethong, I think."
"Any word how they're holding out?" Amber started to ask, but was interrupted when McCreary abruptly stopped, almost causing Amber to run into him.
"Look girl," he tersely snapped. "At this point, I know just about as much as you do, which is jack and shit. My job is to make sure this station is ready for combat, which means throwing people into turrets. So shut up and move."
"Yeah, fuck you too buddy," Amber muttered under her breath as McCreary took off running down the corridor again.
"GM, you know how to use a Mark 2488 'Onager' turret?" McCreary demanded as he led them into a small fire control room branching off from the corridor.
Amber snorted. "Of course."
"Good." He pointed at a partially enclosed seat sticking out from the bulkhead that was facing a trio of screens. "You're in turret Eight Delta. MT, with me!"
McCreary took off once again with Poolsie in tow.
Without preamble, Amber tossed herself into the seat. She grabbed the available headset and began familiarizing herself with the controls. There wasn't much to it: sticking out from the ground between her legs was a simple control stick which controlled the movement of the turret. On the front of the stick, there was a single trigger which obviously fired the Onager. At the very top of the stick were a series of buttons which controlled her main optics, allowing her to zoom in and out, as well as allow her to switch between various sights such as thermals, infrared, etc. On the side of the stick, there was a large button that would close the gun shield, which when activated, would cause her turret to disappear behind a meter thick plating of Titanium-A armor, protecting the gun from damage while it recharged.
Sticking out of the wall above the control stick were four screens. The center and largest screen was her primary gun sights and HUD. The small screen on her left depicted the status of the Onager itself, while the equally small screen on her right depicted the charge and reloading progress of the Onager. If Amber remembered correctly, that screen was also where she could decide how many capacitors she wanted to use; utilizing all five of her available capacitors would give her a much stronger shot but a much slower rate of fire as she would need to wait for all the capacitors to reload at the same time whereas if she cycled between each individual capacitor, she would have a much faster rate of fire at the cost of a much weaker shot as she would only be utilizing a fifth of the available power. The last screen was for her backup sights; due to a strange design choice, her main optics were mounted on the Onager itself so while the Onager was under cover behind the gun shield, she wouldn't be able to use them. Her backup sights were designed to address this problem, allowing her to gain some situational awareness even while she was under cover.
Turning all four screens on, Amber deployed her turret and began moving it around, trying to get an idea of what her fields of fire looked like. Based on what she was seeing, Amber was controlling a turret that was located on the side of the station: if she panned her turret upwards, she could see outer space, and the battle line the fleet was rapidly forming. If she panned her turret down, she could see Actium sprawled out below her.
Spinning her turret in a full three sixty, Amber looked along the hull of the station, trying to spot Wayward Station's other weapons so she could have an idea of what sort of support she had. Most of them were undercover, but to her right, she could see what looked like the top part of an M870 "Rampart" turret, which was equipped with both 50mm autocannons and a pod of Argent V missiles. The station's primary method of defense, Ramparts were used for point defense and were entirely controlled by AIs due to their faster reaction times, though in the event of an emergency, they could be manually controlled by humans.
To her left, Amber could see an M95 "Lance" missile pod. Lance missiles, along with the Onager magnetic accelerator cannon she was using, were the station's primary offensive armament, intended to be used against enemy fighters, boarding craft, and small escort ships. Unlike the Rampart, Lances and Onagers were entirely controlled by humans, and under no circumstances could be utilized by AIs due to fears about allowing a single entity access to that much firepower.
Staring at the pod, Amber wondered if that was the one Poolsie was controlling, though it was impossible for her to determine from here.
Her monitors abruptly pinged, startling her, but it was only her HUD updating to indicate a mass of friendly ships were rising up from the surface of Actium. Had the evacuation already begun? Amber didn't think the colonial government was that organized.
Curious, she turned her turret in that direction and realized most of the ships were broadcasting an Air Force IFF tag. Ah, reinforcements probably.
She started to look away, expecting the ships to start flying by the station as they travelled to join the Navy's battle line up in high orbit, but they didn't. Instead, they were stopping in low and almost appeared to loading up in the Air Force's aircraft carriers.
Amber frowned. What was the Air Force up to?
XXXXX
Low Orbit, Actium
May 6, 2545
0822
"Zelda"
Zelda could feel sweat pouring down his neck as his environmental suit struggled to keep him cool as heat began building up in his cockpit; the result of all the friction on his hull, on doubt. His HUD was lit up with all sorts of warning lights, and there might have been an alarm or two, but it was a little hard to hear them with all the rattling and vibrating. None of the alerts were emergency warnings though, so Zelda was content to leave them be for now.
And then, just like that, it was over.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Zelda quickly switched off his engines, letting his bird drift along, trying to allow his engines a chance to cool down before they were thrown into combat. While Broadswords were rated to be able to reach escape velocity under their own power without the need for a booster pack, it put a lot of strain on the engines, which is why they were only used in an emergency. Like a Covenant invasion, Zelda supposed.
"Omega Flight, radio check, sound off in sequence," Bellum suddenly ordered, and Zelda couldn't help roll his eyes. He understood the need to make sure everyone in the squadron had made it off the planet in one piece, which is why they had to do roll call again, but it was kind of annoying having to sit there again listening to everyone sound off.
"So what's the plan boss?" Zelda asked over SQUADCOM as soon as the last fighter checked in. "I don't know about you, but I'm ready to kick ass and take names.
He heard Odessa let out a snort.
"What?" he demanded.
"Anyone ever notice how Zelda is only ever ready for a fight when he's sitting behind at least forty millimeters worth of armor?"
"What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"It means: you always seem to run away whenever a fistfight breaks out when we go drinking."
"What? Lies and deceits I tell you," Zelda exclaimed. "I never run away!"
"Yes you do."
"No I don't."
"Yes you do."
"No, I don't. Ask Betros, he was the last guy I went drinking with. Tell them Betros!"
"Wait, how did I get dragged into this?" Betros asked, sounding confused.
"Don't worry about it," Zelda assured him. "Just tell the squadron how great of a fighter I am."
Betros audibly hesitated.
"But you're not," he finally said with obvious reluctance.
Zelda sighed as the rest of the squadron started giggling. "Bah, what the hell would you know Betros? You're only a warrant officer(1)."
At once the protest came streaming in.
"Whoa, hold on..."
"That's totally uncalled for!"
"Me thinks you went a little too far there Zelda," Odessa chided. "You should take that back."
"Alright, fine!" Zelda said, rolling his eyes. "I admit, I took it too far: I apologize Betros."
"That's alright," Betros replied, sounding equal parts confused and amused. "I forgive you."
Zelda waited a moment before quickly adding, "You're still a cunt for not backing me up though."
"That's okay," came Betros' highly amused replied. "I can live with that."
"Good," Bellum suddenly interjected, "because we're leaving it at that. Listen up guys, we're headed for the Trenchard to get refit for space combat."
Zelda grunted in acknowledgement as he reactivated his engines and adjusted his course. Of course they had to go to the Trenchard first. Zelda always forgot how much of a difference there was between fighting in the sky and fighting in space. For starters, the distances involved in space combat were so much greater than that of fighting within the confines of a planet's atmosphere. Which meant Zelda's Broadsword not only needed to be refueled in order to replace all the fuel he had burned trying to achieve escape velocity, he also needed to have drop tanks installed so that he could have enough gas for all the dogfighting he would no doubt be doing.
In the vacuum of space, there was no gravity, so certain weapons couldn't be used. The Mark 208 general purpose bombs Zelda was currently carrying, for example, was pretty much useless as they were entirely dependent on gravity and drag for propulsion. Conversely, because there was no gravity or drag, ships could be built much larger, with far more armor than they could if they were designed to be used within an atmosphere, which meant the Anvil IV air to air missiles Zelda was also carrying were also pretty much worthless as they didn't carry nearly enough explosive power to penetrate most, if not all, standard spaceship armor.
Then there was the entire "can't breathe in space" thing. Zelda's cockpit was both sealed against the vacuum of space and equipped with carbon monoxide scrubbers, but they could only do so much. He needed extra tanks of oxygen installed if he wanted to spend any extended amount of time in space.
All in all, it was going to take several minutes before Zelda was ready for space combat.
Zelda calmly followed the rest of the squadron as they banked to the right and headed for the Trenchard. From several hundred kilometers away, the Trenchard almost looked like a harmless toy but Zelda knew firsthand how deceiving looks could be. The lead ship of her class, the UNSC Trenchard was the newest ship in the Air Force's fleet of aircraft carriers, and the result of almost two decades worth of hard lessons learned in the fight against the Covenant.
"Tango Charlie Tango, this is Omega Flight, on approach to your station, requesting instructions for landing, over," Bellum asked over the radio as the Trenchard's hull quickly began to fill Zelda's cockpit window.
"Omega Flight, Charlie Tango. Proceed along highlighted route to hanger six. Be advised, vertical landing is required. Also, due to space requirements, aircraft will need to land on both the ground and the ceiling, over."
"Charlie Tango, Omega Flight, we copy your traffic. Proceeding along highlighted route, out," Bellum said over the general channel before switching to SQUADOM. "Alright guys, follow me in. Betros, with me. We'll go in first with 3rd Flight and dock on the ceiling. Odessa and Zelda, go with 2nd Flight and dock on the floor."
"Copy that Omega Leader," Zelda heard Odessa say in response.
Triggering his forward thrusters to cancel out his forward momentum, Zelda drummed his fingers against his armrest as he impatiently waited as half the squadron began flying into the Trenchard. This was one of the things he didn't like about the Trenchard-class of aircraft carriers: their size.
From how Zelda understood it, one of the things the Air Force had learned in the last two decades was that the only way to defeat the Covenant in the open field of battle was through overwhelming numbers. So, in an effort to increase production numbers, Trenchard(2)-class aircraft carriers were about five hundred meters smaller than their predecessors, the Mukerjee(3)-class aircraft carriers. This of course came at the cost of interior space: everything, including the hangers, were much smaller than they used to, resulting in an increased difficulty in landing.
Zelda wasn't concerned about his ability to land in tight quarters but rather, everyone else's. So, in order to minimize the chance of one of his dumbass squadron mates from flying into the back of his plane, Zelda deliberately waited until he was the last plane to enter the Trenchard. That way, he would be the one closest to the hanger doors which incidentally would allow him to be the first to deploy when they finally got into combat.
Gently firing his rearward thrusters, Zelda deftly maneuvered his Broadsword past the meter thick bay doors and into the belly of the ship. Switching on his bottom camera so he could see the aircraft marshaller's instructions, Zelda stopped in mid-air and slowly turned around so he was facing the doors.
"Landing gear," Zelda called out before gently lowering his Broadsword to the ground. "Magnetic clamps."
A light on his dashboard turned green, indicating his Broadsword was now secured to the deck.
Powering down, Zelda watched as the hanger bay doors rumbled closed. As was standard operating procedure, all the oxygen in the hanger bay had been pumped out, both to prevent explosive decompression as well as minimize the risk of a fire, so Zelda wasn't able to hear as the doors slammed shut, but he could feel the rumble as it translated through the metal.
Leaning back, Zelda automatically started to reach for his cockpit release lever.
"Guys, stay in your birds, we're not going to be here too long," Bellum ordered over the radio, and Zelda reflexively looked towards the ceiling where Bellum's Broadsword was attached, upside down, directly above him. Having been assigned to a ground installation for the last month and a half, the sight was a bit of a mind screw for Zelda, and he was forced to look away.
Tap tap.
Zelda jerked and around to see one of the Trenchard's aircraft maintainers, clad in a vacuum sealed suit, tapping on his cockpit window. The maintainer pressed his palm against the window, and suddenly Zelda could hear the man's voice over his headset.
"Sir?" he was saying. "We're going to need you to open your bomb bay doors."
Zelda gave the man a thumbs up in acknowledgement before pushing a button and watched as the man float away. As was also standard, the gravity in the hanger had been turned off in order to facilitate the loading of heavy ordnance.
He couldn't physically see what they were doing to his Broadsword, but his HUD was automatically updating as they made changes: they were installing the extra fuel and oxygen tanks, replacing his Anvils with Medusa air to air missiles and replacing his bombs with ASGM-10 anti-ship missiles. They also installed another two drums for his autocannon, increasing his ammunition reserves by three times the amount.
Without any gravity, it didn't take them long to have all the new equipment installed, and soon the chief mechanic was indicating for him to shut the bomb bay doors. At first Zelda thought they were done, and he moved to restart his engines, but instead of getting clear, they instead moved to the sides of his birds and began installing weapon hardpoints to both the top and undersides of his wings, allowing for even more ordnance to be installed.
Zelda was impressed. And admittedly, a bit confused. What, was command expecting him to take on the entire Covenant Navy? Zelda was good, really good, but even he had to acknowledge that feat may have been beyond him.
He looked around the hanger to see the rest of the squadron was receiving the same treatment. He reached for his radio.
"Hey Bellum," he called, looking up. He could see her start before looking up at him. Down at him. Whatever. "Have you noticed how much ordnance they're giving us?"
"Good," Bellum interrupted. "From what I'm hearing, we're going to need all of it."
Zelda cocked his head. "Why?"
"What are we doing?"
XXXXX
UNSC Kilkis
High Orbit, Actium
0825
Spaatz
"Admiral Spaatz? I have General Iqbal waiting for you on line one."
Spaatz waved in Kanin's direction to show he had heard him, before turning back to the communication's officer. "Signal the CO of Destroyer Squadron 29, have him assemble his entire force at rally point Omaha Baker and await further orders."
"Aye sir."
"Kanin, transfer General Iqbal to my station, but don't put him on just yet," Spaatz ordered as he walked back to his station. He took a moment to straighten his uniform and mentally steeled himself.
As commanding officer of the sector, Spaatz was in charge of all UNSC military personnel in the system: every single Sailor, Marine, Airman, Soldier, Militiaman, ship, and military asset assigned to the Ambracia System was his to command. However, giving orders to individual units wasn't as easy as having Kanin connect him to the unit in question. The military didn't work that way; even for Spaatz, he had to respect the chain of command. Which meant, when attempting to reallocate military resources, especially from another military branch, Spaatz needed to deal with his subordinates. Which meant Spaatz needed to deal with General Iqbal.
Tevita Iqbal was a four-star Air Force general and overall head of all Air Force personnel and assets in the Ambracia System. In terms of chain of command, Iqbal reported directly to Spaatz, which was rather unfortunate in Spaatz's opinion: truth be told, Spaatz didn't really like Iqbal very much.
In the two years they had been working together, Spaatz had found Iqbal to be one of the most cautious and risk-averse military officers he had ever encountered. He was, in particular, very reluctant to ever utilize the aircraft carriers under his command. In some ways, it made sense as Iqbal had spent much of his military career serving aboard aircraft carriers and would thus have an enormous attachment to them. And plus, to be fair, a certain amount of reservation was expected among Air Force officers as their ships had less armor and firepower when compared to Navy warships. However, the UNSC was in the midst of fighting the worst war in human history: taking risks was part of the job.
Then there was the fact that Iqbal had a tendency to embody all the negative stereotypes associated with a military officer. A seventh generation Air Force officer, Iqbal and his family had all the contacts and political clout to ensure he was able to obtain some of the cushiest and most influential assignments and positions in the military. He had obtain his commission through one of the service academies, with a ring to prove it, and thus looked down on officers who had been commissioned through alternative programs, such as ROTC or OCS.
Finally, with forty plus years in the Air Force, Iqbal was very much a military traditionalist, and seemingly more concerned about ensuring the glory of the Air Force, as opposed to doing what was best for the UNSC as a whole.
In short, Spaatz tried to avoid interacting with him as much as possible. Unfortunately, that just wasn't possible right now so the only thing Spaatz could do was to temporarily shelve his ego and get this over with as soon as possible.
Spaatz nodded at Kanin, and immediately a holographic image of Iqbal, with his slicked back greasy hair, his pencil mustache, and his immaculate dress uniform, appeared on screen.
"Admiral Spaatz," Iqbal coolly greeted.
"General Iqbal," Spaatz smoothly replied. "I trust you've been monitoring the situation unfolding up here in orbit?"
Iqbal's upper lip curled as the result of a poorly concealed sneer. "I have, yes sir."
"And I trust you already know about the skirmish just outside the orbit of Tenedos?"
"Yes. You sent a task force out to attack the Covenant vanguard, but ultimately it was an Air Force missile, not a Navy warbird, that struck the killing blow."
Spaatz did his best to ignore the small slight against his troops and instead, tried to focus on his task at hand. Still, he couldn't help but point out, "Unfortunately General, we, weren't able to kill that destroyer, only disable it. That ship, along with two escorts, was able to withdraw into Tenedos' rings, where the thick density of Tenedos' satellites will be able to protect her from our indirect fire."
Iqbal didn't comment and instead, pulled out a cigarette and immediately lit it. Spaatz frowned as Iqbal exhaled, causing his image to waver slightly as the smoke washed over the camera.
"Look General, let me just get to the point," Spaatz suddenly said. "We need to get out and eliminate that disabled destroyer while we still have the chance, and I need at least two of your aircraft carrier air division and their accompanying fighters in order to accomplish it. I don't care which two, I just need them now."
Spaatz could see a surprised look pass over Iqbal's face.
"With all due respect sir: why?" Iqbal abruptly asked.
Spaatz raised an eyebrow. He wasn't sure which part of his orders Iqbal was protesting. "Excuse me?"
"Why would should I risk deploying my ships to seek out and eliminate a crippled Covenant ship? One, I would like to point out, that has already singlehandedly destroyed thirteen Navy warbirds? The ship is crippled and has dropped out of formation. Is it not already out of the fight? Sir?"
"She is out of the fight," Spaatz agreed. "For now. Unfortunately, she won't stay that way forever. Eventually, she will return to the fight and in my experience, she will return at the most inconvenient time possible. Furthermore, even if she proves unable to return, she is still crewed by several hundred Covenant soldiers, many of whom could easily be transferred to other ships and be utilized in a boarding party role. Lastly, while her point defenses have been destroyed, her main batteries haven't and with her holding station around Tenedos, that puts her in a position to ambush any reinforcements we may receive in the next few hours."
"Yes, I understand that sir," Iqbal replied rather shortly. "What I don't understand is why my carriers are needed. Surely you have several destroyer squadrons or an assault carrier strike group you could deploy instead?"
"I do, and one of the Navy's destroyer squadrons will be accompanying your carriers on this operation," Spaatz informed him, doing his best to hold back his growing irritation with the conversation. "However, while Tenedos' rings are very dense, the section the Covenant are taking cover in is only five kilometers wide. For a stationary target that is undergoing repairs, that's enough. However for an attacking force, there simply isn't enough room for our destroyers to maneuver. Only fighters would have both the speed and the firepower to close the distance and eliminate the target while at the same time, evade the ship's main batteries. The Navy destroyers will instead be used to supplement the carrier's escort force, providing a secondary screening force."
Spaatz could tell Iqbal was suddenly a lot more interested in the operation, and he did his best to hide a smile. Everything Spaatz had just said was absolutely true and necessary for his plan to work, however the mission could have easily been accomplished by a Navy assault carrier as opposed to an Air Force aircraft carrier. But, Spaatz knew if he had gone with the naval option instead, Iqbal would spent most of the battle hoarding his ships instead of integrating them into the defensive line. This way, there was no way of avoiding that now. All because Spaatz knew Iqbal would have relished the chance, in his view, for the Air Force to accomplish something the Navy couldn't.
That being said, Iqbal still wasn't one hundred percent sold on the operation.
"But how would this task force reach Tenedos?" Iqbal asked. "I would have thought the destruction of your strike group would have shown you the futility of charging headlong at the Covenant, as opposed to waiting in orbit for the Covenant to come to us."
"That's why we're doing a slipspace jump instead."
"The UNSC isn't capable of performing an intersystem slipspace jump," Iqbal immediately pointed out. "Our engines are simply incapable of that level of precision. That's one of the great advantages the Covenant have over us."
"We can if we have a slipspace guidance beacon."
"But we'll need a Prowler to plant one. And, given the vast emptiness of space between Actium and Tenedos, it would simply be impossible for a Prowler to approach Tenedos without detection. Any ship attempting to do such a thing would be intercepted megameters away."
"We don't need a Prowler. There's already a beacon in place," Spaatz triumphantly announced.
"There is?"
"Kanin?"
Kanin's avatar suddenly appeared in the conversation. "Vulcan Industries," he said.
Iqbal frowned. "I'm... not familiar with that."
"Not to worry sir, I wouldn't have expected you to be," Kanin assured him. "Vulcan Industries was a mining company fifty years ago that won the mining rights to Tenedos' rings. A few months after that however, the company's CEO was charged and convicted with funding various Insurgent groups in the Eridanus System, and the company went belly up, as it were, not long after. But not before the company had moved quite a substantial amount of mining equipment to Tenedos. Including several slipspace guidance beacons for their trawlers."
Iqbal looked intrigued. "And we're sure these beacons still work?"
"I'm capable of accessing these beacons remotely sir, and have verified that they are indeed, in working condition. Furthermore, I've taken the liberty and upgraded their software to ensure an even more precise jump. And while the margin of error is still high when compared to the Covenant, it will still be more accurate than a blind jump."
"Well then. It appears to be settled," Iqbal finally declared. "Admiral, you shall have my aircraft carriers. I have two carrier air division that are currently retrieving fighters from the surface and reequipping them for space combat: the UNSCs Pégoud(4) and Trenchard. I shall have them ready for use at once."
Spaatz did his best to hide his surprise. The Trenchard? Wasn't that one of the Air Force's newest carriers? He was surprised Iqbal was willing to risk his new shiny toy. But as Spaatz glanced at the roster of assigned carriers to the Actium Defense Fleet, he realized the only other carrier available on this side of the planet was the UNSC Suzan Iqbal. And given that it was named after one of Iqbal's ancestors, it made sense Iqbal would have a soft spot for that ship.
Spaatz mentally snorted. Whatever. He got what he wanted.
"Have the carriers assemble at rally point Omaha Baker. Destroyer Squadron 29 is already waiting for them there," Spaatz commanded, before abruptly terminating the connection and turning to Kanin. "Designated the entire group as Joint Task Force Omaha and inform the CO of DS-29 he's taken orders from the Air Force now. Give them the mission objectives and all the current intel we have on target 1-Alpha, then order them to execute the operation as soon as possible."
"The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can focus on defending against the rest of the Covenant fleet."
1. Warrant Officer: unlike the other service branches, the current day modern US Air Force does not utilize warrant officers anymore due to a general lack of role within the Air Force. Given the theoretical size of the UNSC Air Force though, in my headcanon, I feel like all five warrant officer ranks (Warrant Officer 1 and Chief Warrant Officer 2 to 5) would be brought back and utilized in the same way as the current US Army does: as a cheap and fast way to obtain pilots for their numerous airframes. The only difference would be, in the UNSC Air Force, warrant officers are mostly confined to the Colonial Militia, and are only commissioned to fly atmospheric airframes such as UH-144 "Falcons," AC-220 "Vultures," etc.
It would only be within recent years, and due to all the loses the Air Force has been taking in the fight against the Covenant, that Colonial Militia pilots would be able to transfer to the UNSC Air Force and retrain to fly interplanetary aircraft like Broadswords, Shortswords, Longswords, and Pelicans.
Side note: to any of my non-American readers, please note there's a very big difference between Warrant Officers in the US military as opposed to most nations' militaries. In most militaries, Warrant Officers and Chief Warrant Officers are the highest ranks for enlisted noncommissioned officers, equivalent to Sergeant Majors and Master Chief Petty Officers in the US military. Warrant Officers in the US military however, are commissioned officers, occupying the chain just above senior enlisted ranks, but just below officer grade ranks. If you look up Warrant Officer (United States) on the English version of Wikipedia, it will explain the difference far better than I can.
2. The UNSC Trenchard made a brief appearance in my other story, Missing in Action, but I don't think I ever explained the origins of its name. The Trenchard is named after Marshal of the Royal Air Force Hugh Montague Trenchard, 1st Viscount Trenchard, considered to be the father of the British Royal Air Force.
3. The Mukerjee-class of aircraft carriers is named after Air Marshal Subroto Mukerjee, widely considered to be the father of the Indian Air Force, and it's first Chief of the Air Staff.
4. The UNSC Pégoud is named after Sous-lieutenant (2nd Lieutenant) Adolphe Célestin Pégoud, a French Army pilot and the first fighter ace ever, obtaining his ace status by shooting down six German airplanes in 1915 during World War I. Lieutenant Pégoud also unique in that he was the first man to ever make a parachute jump from an airplane (before, it had only been done from anchored hot air balloons.) Lieutenant Pégoud himself was shot down and killed in action on August 31, 1915. He was 26.