The message Victoria received from her father was troubling. Come and see me on my flagship as soon as possible. Vicki was reading a lot into the message. It was obvious her father wanted her to do something and didn’t want a lot of people knowing about it. Then there had been the last part: and when you come, keep a low profile. That had cinched it in her mind. Vicki’s father had another secret mission for her.

  In order to keep a low profile, Vicki borrowed a Mustang space fighter to fly from Lovell Station to her father’s flagship, the carrier Wasp, rather than fly her own fighter. The Wraith was still classified as top secret, even though it routinely flew around the Lagrange Point where her squadron trained.

  Victoria landed aboard the carrier with a minimal amount of hassle. As soon as she informed flight control of her identity, they gave Victoria a straight-in approach, without even explaining the purpose of her visit. One of her father’s aides met Victoria in the landing bay and escorted her straight to his office.

  “Commander Buckner to see you as ordered, sir,” the aide announced as he showed Vicki into the admiral’s office.

  “Thank you, that’ll be all,” Arnold said. “Commander Buckner and I have classified orders to go over.”

  Victoria could see the disappointment on the aide’s face. Admiral’s aides love to be in the know, and her father had deprived this one of the opportunity to gloat over his peers.

  “Can I get you something to drink or a snack?” Arnold asked as he rose from behind his desk and moved toward the casual area of his office. The fleet commander had arrayed a sofa and several armchairs in one corner and Arnold waved his daughter toward them. “Come sit with me.”

  Victoria followed her father and sat in an armchair facing him. “What’s going on, Dad?”

  “You know what the original purpose of your squadron was?”

  “Engineers designed the Wraith to conduct a long-range strike against the Chinese Jupiter planetary facilities. It was supposed to be a hit-and-run strike in the event we got into a shooting war with them.”

  “After your fiancé brought it to our attention that because of your injuries, you could extend the endurance of the Wraith fighter by a factor of 30 or 40 percent, we changed the organization of the squadron. We now have an overstrength fighter squadron with a five-day endurance which can boost to speeds only major warships could previously achieve.”

  Vicki nodded her understanding. After all, she had proven all of that during her recon mission to Jupiter.

  “Earlier today we received word from a picket ship in the asteroid belt that the Chinese force is on the move.”

  “Headed toward Saturn?”

  Arnold nodded to his daughter. “It was the smart play for them. The corvette on picket duty detected them as they used Jupiter for a slingshot effect to boost speed for the trip. That information is being closely held. I don’t want the Chinese to know that we know they’re already moving.”

  That earned Admiral Buckner a raised eyebrow from his daughter.

  “I have a plan.”

  Victoria laughed out loud at that. “Dad, you always have a plan. So spit it out. How does it affect me and my squadron?”

  “The Chinese are going to wait and see how we respond to this threat. There’s not a lot the fleet can send without putting us at risk here in Earth orbit. I can send Hornet, and she has the speed to get there in time to do some good. Between her and the Midway, they can take the force the Chinese have sent.”

  “But that will leave us very vulnerable here. I can do the math, Dad. Four carriers against two, even if ours are much better than theirs, are not good odds.”

  “And five, or even six, carriers against three are even worse. It’s unlikely Midway by herself can stop the Chinese assault. Oh, she’ll bleed them.” Arnold waved a hand dismissively. “But in the end, the Chinese will destroy that force. Even if Midway takes out the poor man’s carrier the Chinese have built, I suspect several of their little escort carriers will survive.”

  “And once they consolidate their position on Saturn, they’ll turn that force around and use it to reinforce their attack against you here,” Victoria finished her father’s thought. “So what’s the plan, Dad?”

  “I’ll give you two days to get your squadron ready to transfer to the carrier Hornet. Once you’re aboard, the carrier will boost out of the system, headed toward Saturn. I’ve already spoken to Captain Rogers, Hornet’s CO, about the mission. He’ll sell the move as an attempt to get to Saturn before the Chinese. A day or two out, he’s going to reverse course and make a beeline straight for the Chinese facilities on the backside of the moon. Before Hornet turns, though, she’ll launch your squadron toward the Chinese attack force.”

  “You know you’re trying to roll a hard six? What if the Chinese move against you before Hornet turns?”

  “That’s the real question, isn’t it? If the Chinese move prematurely, I’ll order Hornet to turn and threaten their moon bases. Then it probably turns into a game of chicken.”

  Victoria nodded. “To see who will blink first. I like it, Dad. I’m not a deep-thinking military strategist, but it’s the only way I see of trying to save everything.”

  It was Arnold’s turn to nod. “I’ve already been informed by Admiral McNair that we should write off Saturn and to worry about defending our Earth orbitals. All that does is kick the can down the road. Instead of attacking our orbitals within the month, the Chinese will wait and bring back their Saturn attack force and overwhelm us.”

  Victoria started to say something but stopped when her father held up a hand.

  “The reason I asked to see you is to emphasize how important your mission is. On the way out to Saturn, you need to take out their carrier.”

  “Twenty-four fighters against nearly two hundred Chinese ones? That’s a tall order, Dad.”

  “The cobbled together carriers the Chinese built at their Jupiter facility don’t have squat for acceleration. By the time your fighter force reaches them, you should be able to fly right through the formation without worry.”

  “I can see that. On the recon mission, if I’d had missiles, I could have picked off destroyers as I flew through.”

  “And the Chinese carrier and escort carriers are just converted tankers with no armor and no defensive systems.”

  “My squadron will give it our best.”

  “I know you will, but that’s not the only part of your mission,” Arnold said, and slid a data chip across the desk. “These are special orders for you to read once you are in the asteroid belt. It’s important that you carry them out. I don’t want you looking at them till then.”

  Victoria picked up the data chip and slid it into her uniform pocket. “This is all pretty cloak-and-dagger, Dad, but I’ll do as you ask.”

  Arnold nodded and stood. Victoria stood as well, and the two embraced.

  “Be careful, Vicki; we’ve come so far together that I’d hate to lose you.”

  “I’m more worried about you, Dad. When the Chinese decide to attack, they’re going to come after this carrier with everything they have.”

  “I’ve taken that into account. Whatever happens, my fleet will do its duty. It’s up to you and Hornet to make sure some of us survive. Now, off with you. You have a squadron to prepare, and I have more orders to issue.”

  ***

  Victoria wasted no time in returning to Lovell Station. Once in space, flying the borrowed space fighter, she’d contacted her two senior section leaders. Vicki ordered Lieutenants Barnes and Bitters to muster the squadron for a briefing that would begin as soon as she arrived. Once aboard the station, Victoria went directly to the pilot ready room where she’d brief the squadron on the squadron’s new mission. She didn’t even bother to stop and remove her flight suit.

  “Attention on deck,” a voice called as Victoria entered the ready room. The pilots of VLSF-1 rose from their seats and came to attention.

  “Carry on,” Vicki said, and walked down the center aisle to the lectern at the front of the room. She felt a certain pride in the respect the squadron had shown her. This was the first time she’d addressed the entire squadron since her original discussion in the landing bay when she’d arrived to take command.

  “I’m sure most of you realize that war with the Chinese is imminent,” Vicki said. The lack of surprise told her the squadron knew what was coming. “I guess that’s not a shock to anyone in this room. I’m also sure that all of you realize that the US is not ready for war.”

  Victoria picked up a controller and activated a large, wall-mounted display behind her. She’d had Lieutenant Bitters prepare slides for the presentation. Victoria pressed a button and a tactical display of the Jupiter planetary system appeared. “It’s a poorly kept secret within the squadron that I made a reconnaissance flight to Jupiter to see what the Chinese were up to.” Victoria used a laser pointer to highlight the screen. “This is what I found. Our Asian friends have been busy preparing for war.”

  “The geeks over in intelligence have gone over all the sensor readings I took,” Victoria continued. “They’ve identified most of the ships you see. Twenty destroyers and ten frigates were in orbit or on patrol in the system, and these aren’t the most concerning ships present.” Vicki highlighted ten ships huddled near the Chinese orbital station. “Intelligence has classified these ships as escort carriers. They are tankers the Chinese have converted to carry a single squadron of fighters. Just a reminder, Chinese squadrons are smaller than ours, containing only ten fighters each. Still, a force that can launch a hundred fighters, backed up by the destroyers and frigates, is a potent force.”

  “But wait, there’s more bad news,” Victoria said, and highlighted another, larger ship in orbit near the space station. “The Chinese cobbled together several tanker hulls and created a full-size carrier. It carries eight squadrons of space fighters. Yesterday, most of this force, and likely all the carriers, left Jupiter and headed towards Saturn.”

  “Midway and her escorts won’t be able to stop a force that big,” an unidentified voice said.

  “You’re probably right,” Victoria said with a nod. “Our forces protecting Saturn will be hard-pressed to stop this. But for all their firepower and all the fighters they carry, the Chinese have weaknesses.”

  “Which are?” Lieutenant Barnes asked.

  “None of their carriers are true-built warships. They’re tankers converted into warships, with paper-thin hulls, small reactors and fusion engines, and no armament,” Victoria said. “It won’t take but a single missile strike to eliminate any of the escort carriers, and only two or three to take out the large carrier. Midway is a tank. She can take some damage and still stay in the fight. But you’re correct; in the end, they will probably wipe out the Saturn force unless they get some help.”

  “Sounds like a job for the cripples,” another anonymous voice said.

  “Funny you should say that, because the fleet commander thought the same thing,” Victoria said. “Yes, I just came back from a meeting with him and we’re going out to help them.”

  “But we’re only twenty-four fighters,” Lieutenant Bitters said.

  Victoria laughed. “Piloted by twenty-four pilots with bad attitudes.”

  Victoria pulled up the next slide and explained how the squadron was going to even the odds.

  ***

  “Hornet approach, this is Cripple 1 leading a flight of eight space fighters requesting landing clearance,” Victoria called over the radio.

  The day following the squadron briefing, Victoria had launched with her double section from Lovell Station. For anyone who might be paying attention, it was just another squadron exercise. But rather than returning to the station at the end of the flight, they’d land on the carrier Hornet.

  “Cripple Leader, your alpha flight is clear to land in the alpha landing bay. Once aboard, we’ve cleared bravo flight as well,” the flight controller responded.

  “Thank you, flight control, I have the ball,” Victoria said, using the old wet Navy term for the aircraft landing system.

  Vicki led the first four space fighters of alpha flight through the landing sequence. Once in the pressurized portion of the forward hanger, she popped her cockpit canopy as the carrier’s handling team surrounded her space fighter.

  “Were a little crowded right now, Commander,” the chief petty officer in charge of the ground crew informed Vicki. “We’ll be tying you down in the central bay.”

  “Thanks, Chief. That will have to do,” Victoria said. She was careful not to mention that it wasn’t a big deal since they’d only be aboard for a few days.

  “The skipper wants to see you as soon as you’re able to get up to the bridge,” the CPO added.

  “I’m sure he does,” Vicki chuckled.

  “The old man only found out you were coming in an hour ago, ma’am, and I think he’s a little upset.”

  Victoria patted the breast pocket of her flight suit. “I have orders for him from the fleet admiral.”

  “Just so, ma’am, but you know how skippers get about surprises.”

  “I do indeed, so I’d best be getting my butt up there.”

  It took Victoria fifteen minutes to get from the flight deck to the bridge of the massive ship. She was sure there was probably a quicker way, but she’d never served aboard an Essex-class carrier. As Vicki approached the door to the captain’s space cabin, it opened, and she went right in.

  “I hope you have orders and instructions for me, Commander?” Captain Jeffrey Rogers said.

  “I do indeed, sir,” Victoria answered, and passed the data chip to Hornet’s commander. She watched as the captain slid the chip into his computer and chuckled to herself as his eyes widened.

  “You know what this says?” Rogers asked.

  “I do, sir. Admiral Buckner briefed me on the mission personally,” Victoria said.

  “I need to go over these orders with my XO, and then have a senior staff meeting,” Rogers said. “Go get yourself cleaned up. I’d like you at that meeting.”

  ***

  Leslie Frazier floated through the zero gravity of the starboard landing bay of her under-construction carrier, Yorktown’s XO beside her. Neither was happy about how the construction schedule had changed. The Lovell space yard had completed the space carrier Yorktown’s massive frame two months ago, but the completion of its outer hull, necessary for pressurizing the ship, was only 70 percent finished. Because of their size, the yard had already installed the ship’s eight fusion reactors, and two were online and providing power to sections of the ship.

  “If we’d stayed on schedule, the outer hull would be done by now,” Commander Pamela Gray, Yorktown’s XO, said, a touch of anger in her voice. “The pre-commissioning crew would move into temporary quarters, and we could really start training.”

  “Orders are orders,” Leslie said, not any happier about the situation than her XO.

  “Headquarters still hasn’t given you an explanation?”

  Frazier shook her head. “All I get from them is that it’s necessary.”

  Both officers stopped in surprise as the doors of the four space fighter airlocks opened. Airlocks created a barrier between the pressurized hanger and the depressurized landing bay. The landing bay handling teams—The recently arrived handling teams, Frazier thought—manhandled the large crate each airlock contained into the hangar compartment. The lack of gravity made the task easy, though it was still cumbersome. Once crates the size and obvious weight of the ones being handled started moving, it was difficult to get them to stop. The CO and XO gave each other a quizzical look and floated over to one container.

  “What you have there, Chief?” Captain Frazier asked the chief petty officer in charge of the deck crew.

  “I don’t know yet, ma’am,” the chief responded. “These crates were just ferried over by tugs and dropped into the landing bay. The dock controller informed us we needed to get the bay clear because more were coming.”

  “But what’s in the crates?” the XO asked.

  The chief petty officer pulled out a scanner and read the barcode on the side of the crate. After reading the display, the chief ran the scanner again, then shook his head in disbelief. “According to the label, it’s a brand-new SF-51 Mustang space fighter.”

  “Why the hell is the dock master sending us four crated-up space fighters?” Commander Gray asked. “With more to come.”

  “It’s more than four, ma’am. They delivered four crates to the port landing bay as well.”

  Sudden realization hit Yorktown’s captain. “Chief, I’m sure you’re up to speed on the work the yard is doing in your landing bay. Can we launch space fighters?”

  “Oh,” the chief said in surprise, then thought about the answer. “Yeah, we could. Well, we could if we were in space. The dock master might get upset if we launched a space fighter inside his construction dock.”

  “I think I’m seeing what’s going on here,” Captain Frazier said. “Chief, do you know what the status of the magnetic arrestors is?”

  “I know the yard’s been working on them, ma’am, but I don’t know how much they’ve gotten accomplished,” the chief replied. “The only reason I know the launchers work is that the yard dogs asked us to test them.”

  “Thanks, Chief, you’ve been very helpful,” Frazier said. “I’ll leave you to your work. Did the yard give you any idea how many fighters they’re sending?”

  “The yard didn’t, ma’am, but I overheard one of the tug jockeys comment that he had twelve trips to make.”

  Captain Frazier nodded and motioned for her XO to follow as she walked away.

  “That would be enough fighters for six squadrons, Skipper,” Pamela Gray said.

  “Well, Pam, we were both concerned about how we’d defend our ship if the Chinese attacked. Seems the admiral has been thinking about the same thing.”

  “But we’ll be a sitting duck in space, ma’am.”

  “A sitting duck that can launch fighters to defend herself. We both know the Chinese will target the dock when they attack. I’d rather be a sitting duck that can fight back than stuck inside the dock watching it and our ship destroyed.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32