Cripple squadron the 1st.., p.1
Cripple Squadron (The 1st Solar War), page 1
Cripple Squadron
The 1st Solar War
Book One
By
Fred Hughes
Fred Hughes
The Colony, Texas
For Dundi
Who Made Me Believe
&
My Kids
Danielle, Kyle, Allison, Holly
Who Inspire Me To Continue
Copyright © 2023 Fred Hughes Publishing.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the publisher at FOHPublish@gmail.com.
Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.
First edition 2023.
Cover Art by Ibson Writes Inc.
Books by Fred Hughes
The First Solar War
Cripple Squadron
The Prince of Britannia
The Prince Awakens
Prince Commander
Prince War Leader
Prince Peacemaker
Prince Renegade
Prince Liberator
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1. Screwing Up (Again)
Chapter 2. Test Flight
Chapter 3. Broken Angel
Chapter 4. Fighting Pirates
Chapter 5. Dealing with Loss
Chapter 6. Convoy Escort
Chapter 7. Back in the Saddle (Again)
Chapter 8. The Never Docks Sails Again
Chapter 9. Building a Better Mousetrap
Chapter 10. Recruiting
Chapter 11. 1st Battle of the Belt
Chapter 12. Accepting Reality
Chapter 13. A New Toy
Chapter 14. Discovered
Chapter 15. The Shoe Drops
Chapter 16. Reconnaissance
Chapter 17. The Lunar Trip
Chapter 18. Jupiter
Chapter 19. A Gathering of Eagles
Chapter 20. A Peak Behind the Curtain
Chapter 21. Preparations
Chapter 22. Opening Moves
Chapter 23. The Battle Begins
Chapter 24. Dying Ships
Chapter 25. Finishing It
Epilogue
Prologue
In January 2020, I found myself between jobs. The company I’d been working for had merged management positions and suddenly I was the odd man out. Having an adequate severance package in hand, I decided I’d take some time off. Two months later, as I began my search for a new job, Covid reared its ugly head. Suddenly no one was hiring, making my decision to take time off seem foolish. Future events would prove me wrong. It had been a blessing.
With a military retirement already in hand, and some money in several 401k accounts, I decided it was time to retire. Because of my military benefits, I didn’t have to worry about medical insurance for my wife and I. It was time to lead a life of leisure and retirement. After all, I’d worked hard to earn that. Right?
Dundi, my wife, then calmly shattered my retirement dream. You’re not going to sit on the deck smoking cigars and listening to audiobooks. Write the damn book that’s been rolling around in your head. Being a dutiful husband (at least I think I am) I did as I was told and started writing.
It took nearly a year to write that first book. I didn’t really didn’t know what I was doing, but eventually, in January 2021, I finished my first book; The Prince Awakens. Now what? I decided it would be nice if I could list ‘Published Author’ in my obituary, so after some research, I self-published the first Prince book in late February 2021. I figured that was it.
Covid seemed to be on the decline and there were job opportunities available again. I went back to work. It bore me sitting at home and I didn’t consider myself an author. I needed something to do. That’s when you, my readers, got involved in my career choices.
It started at slowly at first, just a few comments posted on Facebook. But by early May, people were sending me e-mails, asking when the next book would be out. I actually found I missed writing and started the second book in the series. That’s when I reached a crossroads in my life. The hours I put into my job didn’t leave a lot of time to write. I could either continue working or become a full-time author.
Seven novels later, I believe I made the right choice. Remember how I said taking time off had been a foolish mistake, but events would prove me wrong? If I had gone back to work immediately, I would have never written my first book and started the adventure I now find myself on.
I’ve met many authors over the past year and like any other profession, when we get together, we talk shop. An author friend and mentor pointed out that while I already had a successful series, what would I do when I finished the story arc? His advice was to start a new series before completing my existing one.
Cripple Squadron is the beginning of that series. Different characters, different universe, different timeline. It’s set in the near future and like all my books, the science works. My Prince books have done well because of the strong central character, Hazard King, I created. I believe you’ll become attached to Vicki Buckner as well. I know I have.
Chapter 1. Screwing Up (Again)
“Leave me alone,” Vicki mumbled at the loud noise that was bothering her. The loud thumping continued.
The short strawberry blonde woman slowly cracked open an eyelid and suddenly sat straight upright in the bed. Bright sunlight was streaming in the room’s single window.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Vicki swore. “I’m in deep shit.” With the amount of light streaming through the window, she knew it had to be midmorning.
The blonde took stock of her situation. She vaguely recalled renting the cheap hotel room late last night. Or was it early this morning? Vicki realized the thumping noise was from someone pounding on the room’s door.
“Likely one of my keepers.”
She took a deep breath, trying to center herself, and almost gagged. God, I stink. Body odor, alcohol, and sex seemed to ooze out of every pore of her body. Vicki looked at the passed-out body lying next to her. Damn, I was really out of it by the time we got to this room. I don’t even remember if I enjoyed it. Vicki chuckled to herself.
“It’s the story of my life. Bad decisions.”
Vicki pushed the passed-out man hard to wake him up. Getting zero response, she pushed him hard enough to roll him off the bed. Vicki heard a loud thump as he hit the floor and a groan.
“Wake up, asshole, it’s time to go.” All she got in return was another groan.
The knocking at the door was becoming rather insistent, so Vicki got up and pulled the top sheet off the bed to wrap around her naked body. She approached the door, careful not to stand in front of the window, and looked through the peephole.
“Shit.”
Vicki glanced at her watch and instantly understood why the man on the other side of the door was there. I was supposed to be dressed in my flight suit and in the preflight brief at 0800. Today’s test flight was supposed to happen at 0900. It’s now 0830. Once again, Vicki, you’ve let your hormones screw up your life.
Sliding the deadbolt out of the way, Vicki partially opened the door to face her boss and friend, Captain Norman Stecker.
“I can explain, Norm,” she said, but was instantly cut off.
“Is that the way a lieutenant commander in the Space Force greets a senior officer?” Captain Stecker barked. “Come to attention, you miserable excuse for an officer.”
Vicki had entered the United States Space Academy at the age of eighteen. Sixteen years of training activated the Pavlovian response in her, and she snapped to attention: body straight and erect, head up, eyes looking straight ahead, and hands stiff at her sides. Of course, this meant there was nothing holding the sheet that was only partially wrapped around her body and the flimsy piece of cotton slowly slid to the floor, leaving her standing naked in front of her commanding officer.
Most women would have felt embarrassed and traumatized in such circumstances, but Vicki didn’t. She was proud of her body and didn’t mind showing it. In the modern Space Force, there wasn’t much room for modesty when all the pilots dressed and undressed in the same locker room. And besides, Norm and I had that little fling right after the Academy, so he’s seen me naked before.
“God, you stink, Vicki. I wish I could tell you to take a shower because I don’t want to ride back to the base with you in my car, but there’s no time.” He looked her straight in the eye and continued. “Five minutes, downstairs, in my car. That doesn’t mean five minutes and one second. Do you understand me, Lieutenant Commander?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Vicki responded with parade ground precision.
Stecker turned and walked away from the second-floor room. “Four minutes, fifty seconds,” he called over his shoulder.
“Dammit,” Vicki said aloud as she slammed the door shut and scrambled around the room looking for her clothes.
She stalked over to the still-sleeping man on the far side of the bed and kicked him.
“Hey, asshole, get up,” Vicki yelled at the man as she sat on the bed, pulling on her s
kinny jeans. All she got in response was a groan.
“Fricken loser,” Victoria half-mumbled as she pulled her car keys out of a pocket. She reached down, pried open her date’s hand, and placed her keys on his palm. “Here’re the keys to my car. I’ve got to go, so you can drive it back to the base. Park it on the flight line and leave the keys above the visor.”
***
Norm drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for his miscreant pilot. She is a royal pain in my ass. Always has been. But she’s the best damn pilot in the Space Force and we need her for this program.
They say that opposites attract. That has to be true, because two people couldn’t be more unalike, Norm thought. Vicki was a natural, fly by the seat of your pants flyer. She had an uncanny sense of three-dimensional space combat. Problem was, she had a hard time dealing with fools, which often put her in conflict with superior officers. That problem paled compared to her other. The damn woman can’t keep her panties on. It was the reason she was thirty-four and only a lieutenant commander. If not for her flying skills, she would probably be a civilian.
People always considered Captain Norman Stecker a solid performer. He was, at best, an average pilot. Whereas most considered his friend old for her rank, Norm was young to be a full bird captain. As Vicki dazzled people with her flying ability and dogfighting skills, Norman impressed the fleet’s admirals with his understanding of tactics and strategy. He quickly moved from just being a pilot to being a squadron commander. He advanced rapidly from there to fighter group and then wing commander.
The two had gone through the Space Academy together, though they hadn’t been friends there, merely acquaintances. They each followed a separate path after graduation but reunited at space fighter pilot school. It was there where they developed a friendship and, for a short time, were lovers. That hadn’t worked out, but somehow, against all odds, they had remained friends.
Lost in his thoughts, Norm didn’t see his friend approaching his parked car. It startled him when the front passenger door opened and she slid into the vehicle.
Thank God she put a perfume on to cover up the stink. It’s a long trip back to the base and I’m not sure I would have made it.
Norm started the car, backed out of the parking spot, and drove out onto the highway, headed back toward the base. They traveled for a good five minutes before they said anything.
“How much shit am I in, Norm?”
The Space Force Captain didn’t say anything and continued to drive. He spared her a brief, sidelong glance before returning his attention to the road.
“Norm?”
“Shut up, Victoria,” Norman barked at her. “I’m beyond caring about your career. If you want to drop your drawers for every hunk that passes you in a bar, that’s your choice. And if you let that screw up your life, that’s your choice as well. But today was the last straw. My ass is in a crack because I’ve supported you and looked the other way. The project manager’s ass is in a crack because he needs you to complete the testing phase. And, most importantly, the country’s ass is in a crack because we need this project to succeed, or we don’t stand a chance against the Chinese.”
***
Throughout the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries, politicians, historians, and science fiction writers had guessed about World War III. They all had their own ideas about how it would happen and why it would happen and who would be the ultimate victor. Nearly all of them had gotten it wrong.
As predicted, the last world war had been about oil. But not in the way most had envisioned it. Western scientists had finally developed sustainable fusion power. As the first fusion power plants came on line, everyone realized the world was no longer dependent on oil, natural gas, or coal. The world’s environmentalists at once applauded the discovery, extolling how it was going to save the planet. In reality, they couldn’t have been more wrong.
Many countries used their oil and gas supplies as a political tool on the world stage. Both Russia and China had used their supplies to leverage concessions and exercise power over many countries. The sudden loss of political clout was unacceptable to the leaders of those countries.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. Oil-rich countries, many of them in the Middle East, found that their primary source of revenue, sometimes their only source of revenue, was practically worthless. The governments of those countries soon found themselves in the center of a political firestorm. Most had kept their people happy by spending portions of their oil revenues on social programs. That money no longer existed and civil infrastructure collapsed.
When food became scarce, an unpleasant situation became ugly. Most of the desert kingdoms in the Middle East had little or no farmland. With an excess of oil money available, the governments imported food to support their populations. It was there, in the Middle East, where the war had its origins. Unable to feed their people and fearing revolt, it left them with one alternative. Conquer neighboring countries that had food. Jordan and Israel had spent years turning their desert and arid areas into lush farmland. Saudi Arabia led a coalition of other Gulf states in the surprise attack against the Jordanians.
The Arab coalition expected an easy time of it against the small Jordanian Army. They planned to roll through the tiny country and then quickly overwhelm Israel and Lebanon. The Saudi agricultural experts informed the ruling family that the captured farmland would be more than sufficient to feed the starving populations of the once oil-rich Arab states. The Arab leaders quickly discovered their mistake. Jordan wasn’t alone.
US intelligence agencies, particularly the National Security Agency, or NSA, knew of the plot well in advance and warned its Israeli allies. The Jordanians and Israelis had been reading the tea leaves themselves and had already entered into a secret defensive alliance. Israel moved its US-supplied air defense umbrella forward to protect their new ally.
In the modern age of recon satellites, it’s impossible to hide the movement of a large army, especially when it must cross hundreds of miles of empty desert. And that is what the Arab coalition had to do to begin their assault. As the first Arab tanks left their bases and headed northwest toward the Jordanian Frontier, Israeli tanks moved forward to defensive positions inside Jordan, prepared by their own engineers.
The sneak attack by the coalition air forces was shattered by the thick SAM ring deployed in Jordan and then the Israeli Air Force went to work on the armored columns. It should have ended there. The Arabs fled east in a total rout. That should have been the end of the short, violent war, but it wasn’t.
The Israeli’s hadn’t been the only ones in secret negotiations with a former foe. The Saudis, expecting the US to support Israel, had signed a military treaty with the Russian Federation. They hadn’t expected to need it until they attacked Israel, but they called on the Russians for support. The Federation ‘Peacekeepers’ in Syria quickly brushed aside the reserve units left to guard the northern entrance into Israel when they launched a surprise attack against the Golan Heights. Facing a new, serious threat, Tel Aviv committed its air force to buy time for the army to return from Jordan.
Everything went downhill from there. The US tried to commit air and naval forces to protect its long-term ally, but they were badly out of position. With their backs against the wall as Russian Forces approached the capital, the Israelis used tactical nuclear weapons to stop the advance. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone. Israel had vowed they would do it if they felt their sovereignty threatened. Within a day, the Russians responded with a nuclear strike of their own, using a tactical weapon to destroy a brigade of Israel Defense Force tanks redeploying from Jordan. The genie was definitely out of the bottle.
The US and Russia declared war on each other. In what must have been a surprise to the Russians, as it certainly surprised the US, NATO honored their commitments and joined the conflict. Small- and medium-size nukes began obliterating Russian military units from the Baltic to the Black Sea. Fortunately for most of the world, all sides refrained from attacking population centers. The Russians tried to retaliate, but strong air defenses minimized the effect of the counterattack.
