Chapter 32- Learning How to Be the Good Guys Again

"Turn the ship around, Lieutenant," snapped Oakes. The bridge crew exploded into motion as he paced back to his chair and sat down. "Conn, Tactical. Can you warm up the main guns without alerting the Drex?"

"Yes, sir."

"Make it so. Conn, Helm. Make our course two seven zero, positive one five. Sound general quarters."

"Helm, Conn. Full thrust on that turn, sir?"

"Yes- no, belay that." Oakes noticed his communication light was on. "Commander Bonaire?"

"Yes, Captain?" said his top pilot, her voice tinged with nervousness.

"This is a combat alert. Make your pilots ready for launch in all respects. Prepare to launch on my command in-" he paused, glancing at the tactical readout in front of him. "No less than ten minutes."

"Yes, sir!" came the enthusiastic answer. "We'll be launching in-"

"Wait for my order," said Oakes. "And use the port hangar to launch."

Bonaire sounded doubtful. "It'd be quicker if we use both hangars-"

"Relax, Commander. I have a plan," said Oakes.

"Yes, sir!"

Another light lit up, and Oakes acknowledged it. "La Mancha here," said his colonel of marines.

"Colonel, this is a combat alert. Prepare the Marines for ground assault."

"Yes, sir," said La Mancha, suddenly cheerful. "Who are we fighting?"

"The Drex," said Oakes. "Who else?"

"Thought maybe the Larrat might have shown up," said La Mancha, sounding disappointed. He brightened. "Though the Drex are always fun to kill."

Barker grimaced. Wu leaned closer to her. "It's just a Marine thing," he said.

"I know, but-" she looked at him tenderly. "You didn't have to beat up that diplomat. I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, I figured he'd rather be beaten up by me than bitten up by you," said Wu, ducking his head.

She cocked her head and looked at him. "So you were just trying to protect him from me, was that it?" There was a slight edge in her voice.

"Um-" Wu hesitated, realizing he had made a serious tactical error. "That is-"

She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him close, until their noses touched. "I'm joking," she said. "But next time, I'll be the bad cop."

Wu swallowed. "How bad?"

She gave him a sultry smile. "You'll see."

Tossetti raised an eyebrow at them. "Maybe you two should join the Marines," she suggested, her eyes twinkling. "They'll need a guide on the ground."

"Oh, um, sure," said Wu, pulling back from Barker. She also backed up, clearing her throat.

The executive officer rolled her eyes and gestured to the bridge's exit with her head. The two cops quickly left.

"Ah, love," said Tossetti.

"What?" asked Oakes, distracted. "What about love?" He keyed in several commands.

"Nothing, sir." She moved to her own console, watching as the strike craft pilots started signalling their readiness to launch.

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Sabinus, on board the Centurion, was intently observing the progress reports from his tactical commanders.

Most of the Terran transmitters that were large enough to be a threat had been destroyed. A new report popped up, and he nodded. "That's very nearly the last of them," he said aloud.

His flag officer- the actual commander of the Centurion- Captain Luciana, glanced at him. "The last of the transmitters, sir?" she asked. As Sector Commander, Sabinus was in charge of the task force as a whole. Luciana was in charge of the Centurion alone.

"Correct, Captain." He settled back. "It looks like this operation may be a success after all-"

"Tactical, Conn," said a bridge officer. "Ma'am, the Nike is decelerating and beginning a turn."

Both Sabinus and Luciana brought up the course plot on their consoles. "A slow turn," said Luciana. Her brow wrinkled in confusion. "The Human strike cruisers are much more maneuverable than that. What is he doing?"

"He's not complying with our demands," said Sabinus. "Open a channel-"

"Sensors, Conn. Sir, we've also picked up a single strike craft, approaching the planet."

Luciana and Sabinus exchanged confused looks. "A single strike craft?"

"Yes, sir. Appears to be an Arewing. It's headed straight for Terra."

"They can't do much with one strike craft-" Sabinus shook his head. "Open a channel to the Nike."

A moment later, the communications officer nodded. "Channel opened."

"Sabinus here," snapped the Sector Commander. "Nike, what is going on? Explain your course change and that strike craft you launched."

"Oakes here," said the voice of the Nike's captain. Sabinus frowned- he sounded much more confident, more self-assured. "I can explain both. The Terrans on-board our vessel stole an Arewing in an attempt to get back to the planet."

Sabinus rolled his eyes. "If you expect me to believe that-"

"Sensors, Conn. Sir, the life signs are consistent with non-human mammalian physiology," said his bridge officer nervously.

The Sector Commander glared at him, but sighed. "Humans are so undisciplined," he said to Oakes. "Regardless, you are not authorized to approach Terra. You will stand down and return to your course."

"Negative, Sector Commander," said Oakes. "That's Human Stars property, and we aim to get it back. Can't have a fully functional Arewing falling into your hands, now can we?"

Sabinus cocked his head thoughtfully. "Turning back will be considered a hostile act, Captain."

"We're not launching fighters," said Oakes reasonably. "We'll just catch up to our little lost lamb and fire a few warning shots until they come back. You know, standard procedure for rounding up little lost lambs."

Sabinus couldn't help it- he smiled slightly, though he covered it with a cough. "Negative, Oakes. Turn back or be destroyed."

"I have my orders, Commander. Oakes out."

The connection cut out with a hiss of static. Sabinus leaned back thoughtfully.

"Should we recover the fighters on ground attack missions?" asked Luciana after a moment.

The Human ship was still making its very slow turn. "No," said Sabinus after studying it. "As Oakes said, they aren't launching fighters. No need to cease the operation when we're so close to victory."

"Yes, sir."

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Bonaire gave her crew chief a thumbs-up- he returned another gesture and she rolled her eyes. "Still upset about that Arewing I gave Hustler," she muttered to herself. "You'd think these ships were their own personal property."

Her radio crackled. "Bonaire, this is Oakes. What's your status?"

"All flights are green and ready to go, sir. Out the port bay, as ordered."

"Good. Here's the deal," said Oakes, his voice determined. "That Shrike-class slightly outguns us, but it's more or less a fair fight. With the carrier, on the other hand-"

"We're pretty outclassed," said Bonaire, nodding. "I see that."

"I think I can bluff them into not recalling their fighters from their ground attack missions. That means we'll have a pretty substantial advantage from the beginning. Your boys and girls need to be on the mark, though. You ready for this?"

Bonaire smiled wolfishly. "Motivated and dedicated, sir."

"And addle-pated," said Oakes wryly. "Like all fighter jocks."

"Sir, how are you going to keep them from recalling fighters?" asked Bonaire. "I mean, they'll see us coming."

"They'll see the Nike coming," said Oakes cheerfully. "They won't see you."

"I don't understand, sir."

"You'll be hiding."

Bonaire frowned. "It's space, Captain. There's nothing to hide behind out here for a million kilometers or more."

"Not quite true, Commander. When you launch, this is what I want you to do-"

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Nick swallowed as he looked at the sensor panel. There were a whole lot of red dots scattered around. The Drex fighters weren't concentrated- they were on Combat Space Patrol, which he had learned meant they spread out, to cover more space. Still, he counted at least a dozen red dots on his direct course to the planet. "It's going to get a bit hot, Carrots," he said, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

"We can do it, Nick," said Judy firmly. "We have to. They're counting on us."

"Uh-huh," said Nick. Three dots peeled off leisurely and started towards the lone fighter. "Do the Drex know that?"

"Unidentified vessel," blared a voice, sounding almost robotic. "Turn back or be destroyed."

Nick keyed the mike. "You can't do that," he said confidently.

There was a pause. "Explain."

Nick hesitated, then shrugged. "We're diplomats. We've got diplomatic immunity."

"Really?" said the voice, sounding a bit dry. "Is that the same as missile immunity? Because if you do not turn back, we will fire on you."

Nick glanced back at Judy. "I don't think this is working."

She pointed at the console. "There's another incoming message."

He saw the blinking light, and shrugged. "Drex fighter, can you hold for one moment? I really got to take this call."

"You're putting me on hold?" said the Drex incredulously, before Nick switched to the other frequency.

"Hustler here."

"Hustler, this is Blue Falcon," said Bonaire urgently. "Look, the captain changed his mind. We're coming to help, but it's going to be a couple of minutes. I need you to stall the Drex fighters that are about to attack you."

"Um, how do you know they're about to attack me?"

"Because they've lit up their search radars and are focused on you like a pack of hunting dogs," said Bonaire. "And they're Drex. Attacking inoffensive little foxes and bunnies is pretty much par for the course for them."

"Hey," protested Nick. "This thing is armed! I'm not inoffensive."

"Maybe don't tell the Drex that?" said Bonaire. "Just stall, Hustler. Help is on the way." There was a pause. "Is Judy listening?"

"I'm here," said the bunny.

"You're right, Judy. We're not alone. And neither are you. Hang in there, guys."

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Bonaire eased her fighter slightly to port, glancing to make sure she wasn't about to collide with her wingman as they mimicked the slow turn the Nike was making. "This is some pretty tricky flying, boys and girls, so stay sharp."

The ship loomed to her right, so close it seemed like she could reach out and touch it. Around her, the entire strike craft contingent flew in ludicrously close formation, so close that a twitch of the joystick could send the whole thing into chaos. She smiled proudly. Only her pilots could pull something like this off.

"All right, listen up. For this operation, we're dividing into three groups- interceptors, fighters, and bombers. Bomber call-sign will be Raider, fighters will be Hawk, and interceptors Falcon." She would be with the interceptors, after all- might as well name them after her. "Individual call-signs are the same."

She carefully nudged the thruster control to stay within the narrow space she'd assigned herself as the Nike finally started to turn towards the Drex- and Terra.

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"Stall them," muttered Nick. "Right."

"How are we going to stall them?" asked Judy. "I mean, you have a plan, right?"

"Um."

The radio buzzed insistently. Nick slapped the button irritably. "Hustler here."

The Drex pilot's voice came on. "All done with your phone call?" he asked solicitously. "I mean, I can wait if you aren't. I've literally nothing better to do out here."

"Oh, you can? Well, that'd be great-"

"Do Terrans not understand sarcasm?" asked the Drex. "Here, let me show you I'm serious."

A loud hum filled the cockpit. Nick swore.

"Language," said Judy remonstratively.

"Really, Carrots? You know what that is, right?"

"No."

"It's the lock-on warning. They've got us painted with their active sensors. Means they have a missile locked on us." Nick considered going evasive, but- he could maybe dodge one missile. But there were at least three Drex ships locked on him.

"Missile?" Judy said nervously. "Cheese and crackers!"

"Hey! Language," said Nick.

"Sorry- wait, what?"

"Okay, this is doable," said Nick, thinking out loud. "It's just a hustle, right?"

"Turn back now, unidentified craft. You have one minute to comply," said the Drex pilot implacably.

Judy leaned forward. "Okay, so how do we hustle them?"

"Um."

"Nick, you said the first part of a hustle is to figure out what the mark wants, right?" said Judy urgently. "So what do they want?"

"Terra?" Nick shook his head. "I mean, I can't really pretend to give them that-" he stopped.

They probably wanted Terra. But they'd sent a task force far too large for a mere show of force, and far too small for a real invasion. They had what, a hundred thousand troops? Far too few to pacify the whole planet.

"Transmission sites," muttered Nick.

"What?" asked Judy, her ears perking. "What about them?"

"They're destroying transmission sites. Why?"

"To stop us from calling for help?"

"Barker was right, though. Who are we going to call?" His mind raced. "Wait. If they're not worried about us transmitting, they must be worried about someone else."

He heard Judy's sharp intake of breath. "Prometheus."

"He's the only one besides Terrans on Terra," said Nick. He looked back at her. "Carrots- Judy. This is a long shot. If I'm wrong- I just want you to know I love you."

She reached up and touched his shoulder. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears. "I love you, too."

"You have five seconds to comply," said the Drex, sounding bored. "Four. Three."

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Sabinus was still watching the Nike with a frown, but he was half-listening to his pilot warning off the Terrans. It sounded as if they'd be shooting down the Arewing any minute now. At least that would be one less complication-

"Two," said the Drex remorselessly. "One-"

"I know where Prometheus is!" shouted the Terran.

Sabinus froze only briefly before keying his transmitter. "Aleph One-six, weapons tight! Say again, weapons tight!"

The Drex pilot sounded surprised. "Confirm weapons tight, Commander. Sir, why-"

"Shut up, Aleph One-six. Unidentified Terran, confirm last transmission."

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"I know where Prometheus is," said Nick, putting more confidence into his voice. "We're on our way to find him."

There was a long pause. "You're working with him?" asked Sabinus.

Nick glanced back at Judy, who shook her head. He agreed- there was too much suspicion behind that question. "No," answered Nick truthfully. He desperately hoped the Drex weren't allied to the mysterious human-

"Good," said Sabinus crisply. Both Nick and Judy sighed in relief. "If that's the case, then you won't mind my ships tagging along with you. We have our own scores to settle with Prometheus."

"Acknowledged," said Nick. Judy frowned at him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"We can't have them follow us in," she said. "And we still don't know where Prometheus is."

"They don't know that, Carrots," said Nick with more confidence than he felt. "It's called a-"

"Hustle, I know, I know." She shook her head. "Think this will stall them long enough?"

The Drex fighters had settled into position behind him, where they could blow them out of space with a flick of the trigger. "I think it's going to have to."

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Sabinus saw Captain Luciana watching him carefully. "Something the matter, Captain?" he asked.

"Do you really think they know where the primary target is, sir?" she asked pointedly. "It's a trick."

"Then our pilots will shoot them down," said Sabinus with a shrug. "The pilot is a Terran, Luciana. Do you really think he's been trained to fly that ship? Even the humans wouldn't be foolish enough to do such a thing."

She nodded reluctantly. "Yes, sir." She glanced down at her console. "Sir, the Nike is accelerating back towards Terra."

"Very well. Prepare weapons for firing. Turn ship to heading one-eight-zero, negative-" he glanced at the chart- "ten. We'll present them with a broadside as they approach."

"Sir, a broadside will make it harder to defend against missile attack-"

"The Nike has few missile launchers, Captain." Sabinus leaned back in his chair. "They rely on strike craft to launch missiles. And they haven't launched any."

"Yes, sir. New heading, one-eight-zero, negative one-zero."

The massive Drex ship ponderously spun in space. The gunports on her starboard side opened, revealing the kinetic batteries nestled inside.

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"Point of no return," said Oakes quietly.

Tossetti, sitting beside him, gave him an odd look. "Yes, sir. I don't think we have a choice but to engage now," she said.

"Not for us," said Oakes. He smiled.

"For them. Bonaire, you are clear to attack."

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Bonaire smiled broadly. "Rise and shine, boys and girls! Time for you to earn your pay."

She boosted the acceleration and thrusted "up". "Permission to do a fly-by, sir?"

Around her, the rest of the Nike's strike craft complement did the same. A moment before, the strike craft had the bulk of the Nike between them and the Drex, shielding them from both sensors and view. Now, they boosted past the already-accelerating Nike. The strike cruiser flashed past her cockpit as she almost skimmed the ship's outer surface.

"Permission not granted," said Oakes dryly. "Though seeing as how you've already done it, I think you meant to ask for forgiveness."

"Don't they say it's always better to ask for foregiveness than permission?"

"Not if you're the Drex," said Oakes. "Go get them, Falcon."

"Yes, sir!"

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"Tactical, Conn. Sir, we are picking up large numbers of multiple contacts on the same heading as the Nike," said the tactical officer. "Constant bearing, decreasing range. Acceleration and engine signatures make them strike craft."

"What?" said Sabinus. "How-"

"They must have hid behind the Nike," said Luciana, nodding slowly. "Clever. They launched during that slow turn." She gave a respectful nod to the blip indicating the approaching strike craft. "Damned good flying, to stay in the Nike's sensor shadow like that."

A lack of fear was all well and good, but there were times Sabinus envied the humans' quicker reactions to a situation like this. "Prepare to change heading," he snapped. They needed to present the ship's forward sections to the missile barrage that would soon be heading their way- the point defense was better, as well as providing a smaller target cross-section.

"New heading, yes, sir."

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"I have tone," announced Raider One. "Prepare to launch on my mark."

Bonaire was well ahead of the slower bombers, weighed down by their payloads. She was scanning for- there. A single blue dot, being shadowed by three red ones. "Falcon One to Falcon Two."

"Falcon Two, go."

"Break by squadrons and engage the Drex CSP. Falcon Two-six, you're with me."

"Roger, Falcon One. What's our objective?" asked Two-Six.

"Mission objective?" She smiled as she hit the boost, burning fuel at a prodigious rate to accelerate even faster. "Cover the fox."

"Raider One, mark, mark! Raider One, Fox Five!" shouted the bomber commander.

The radio filled with the sounds of other missile launch reports.

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"Fire broadside!" snapped Sabinus.

"The Nike is not within optimal range," noted Luciana.

"We're not going to get a chance for her to get in optimal range," said Sabinus quietly, noting the ninety-six missile contacts that had separated from the oncoming bombers.

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"Hotel One is firing," said Cho.

"Brace for impact," said Oakes calmly. "They're desperate."

"Drex? Desperate?" Tossetti smiled grimly at him.

"I can't teach them fear," said Oakes. "But I can teach them what it is they should fear."

The ship shook around them as the kinetic broadside of the Centurion struck.

"Grav shields deflected half the shots," said Cho. "Minor damage reported to decks eight and one-seven."

"Casualties?"

"Hull breach on eight. Some losses reported," said Cho after a moment. "Permission to return fire, sir?"

"Stand by." The missiles had almost reached their target. Ninety-six anti-ship missiles was a lot. "We may not need to."

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Nick saw the Nike suddenly turn into a whole host of new contacts, and let out a low whistle. "Sly humans," he breathed.

"What?" asked Judy, sounding irritable and nervous. "I don't know how to read this thing."

"The Drex are about to have a very bad day," said Nick. "Which means they probably will try and take it out on us."

"What are we going to do?" asked Judy. "I mean, they're behind us."

Nick smiled and pushed a button, hearing a surprised squeak from his partner as her seat rotated. "Let me introduce you to the rear-firing gun."

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"It's a trap," said Sabinus. "The whole thing was a set-up."

The Centurion was doomed. She had an excellent point-defense suite, but that was designed to defend against an attack launched from long-range, with her own fighters distracting or breaking up the formation of the attacking bombers. Not from a pitch-perfect surprise assault at- in space combat terms- knife-fighting range. But he could still salvage something.

"Aleph One-six, engage that unidentified Arewing."

"Yes, sir," said the pilot.

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Aleph One-six was a Drex, which meant he was fairly unimaginative, at least when it came to things trying to kill him. Everything he'd seen from this Terran pilot indicated he was a rank amateur- he'd barely changed from course, even when missiles were locked on him. For all he could tell, the ship had been on auto-pilot the whole time.

There was a rear gun in the Arewing, he recalled. But it seemed the Terran didn't know that. Or didn't know how to use it.

Bringing up his missile sensors, he heard a low hum as his fighter announced a lock. He smiled with satisfaction and started to depress the firing button-

The ship to his left abruptly exploded. Instinctively, he yawed to port, barely avoiding a string of cannon fire from the Arewing in front of him.

His other wingman peeled off, too. The Arewing abruptly boosted its engines and dove, straight toward the Terran surface below.

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"Oh, my gosh," said Judy, her voice shaky. "Can we not do that again?"

"That was great shooting, Carrots!" said Nick cheerfully. He frowned. "Do what again?"

"That dive," said the bunny. "I don't think I'm cut out for space flight." She sounded a bit woozy.

Nick was suddenly acutely aware that he was seated directly in front of an apparently nauseated bunny. "Um, Carrots, please don't throw up on me."

"Then don't do that again!"

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Bonaire silently cheered as she saw Nick's shots take out the Drex ship, sending the others yawing away in confusion. "Attaboy," she said to herself. Nick boosted and shot towards the planet's surface. "Good evasive," she noted.

"Two six to One. You sure that fox needs us?" The other pilot's voice was dryly amused.

Bonaire saw the other nearby Drex CSP curving towards the Arewing as it shot towards Terra. "He will in a minute. Weapons free."

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Forty-eight bombers had fired two anti-ship missiles apiece.

That was nearly a hundred heavy missiles flying towards the Centurion.

The Drex ship was caught, as the metaphor goes, with her pants down. Broadside on, at a low velocity, with barely enough warning to light up the incoming missiles with point defense, ECM, and all the other things that ship commanders hope will keep the booms far away.

All in all, she did surprisingly well.

Fifteen of the missiles were confused by the panoply of ECM- Electronic Counter Measures- the Drex ship deployed. Flares, decoys, and straight up electromagnetic pulses were blasted at the missiles, and even their hardened sensors couldn't defeat them one hundred percent of the time.

The active point defense- small, incredibly rapid-firing cannons- put up a wall of fire that intercepted no fewer than twenty of the Nike's attack. The missiles shattered into balls of flame and twisted metal shrapnel.

Four more missiles failed to detonate, due to either poor design, maintenance, or just the sheer volume of electromagnetic noise overwhelming their detonators. They did only minimal damage when they struck the ship's hull.

That left sixty missiles.

All in all, the Centurion did surprisingly well.

It just wasn't good enough.

Impacts ripped through the thick armor of the Drex strike cruiser, secondary explosions rippling along her hull, throwing out atmosphere, debris, and bodies. The ship shuddered and pitched. Her artificial gravity failed, throwing Sabinus and Luciana into the far wall of the bridge. Alarms screamed as hull breaches vomited great gusts of precious air into the void.

Somehow, the ship was still intact. But the reactor was off-line, weapons were destroyed or inoperable, and the great ship drifted silently in the cold place between the stars.

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"Impact on Hotel One!" shouted Cho. "Multiple missile impacts, target is- she's not breaking up, but I am reading negative reactor, negative weapons emissions! I call that a mission kill, sir!"

"Calm down, Cho," said Oakes, though he was smiling broadly. "We've still got a carrier to deal with. And a bunch of Drex soldiers." He activated the ship's intercom. "La Mancha?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"Are your Marines ready?"

"Yes, sir. Armed to the teeth and ready to kill some Drex!"

"Very good. Because you're up next."