Sydney Story 1-Knifefight

"What have we got?" Robert 'Jester' Graves, Lieutenant Commander in the Terran Commonwealth Navy, asked as he slid into his seat beside his wingman. The CAG, Commander, Air Group, had not yet stepped out of the adjoining office to the briefing room which forced the normally soft-spoken pilot to lean over and speak directly into Robert's ear to be heard over the rest of the pilots in the room.

"The Cuttlefish lost one of her 'Cudas" Eric answered. Robert raised an eyebrow in question, glancing sidelong at the other pilot. Eric Canton, 'The Barbarian', was a giant of man who had no business being shoehorned into a fighter's cockpit and it appeared as if a mountain was shrugging as he moved his shoulders. "Rumor is, Sydney was making a full combat dock when we jumped. "

Robert whistled. The Sydney was one of humanity's largest ships, a fleet carrier which did literally just that--carried an entire fleet through Fold-Space with it. A combat dock meant the entire fleet was attaching itself to the 'mothership' for the purpose of making an instantaneous "Fold". Only the Sydney was large enough to host a Fold-Space drive and produce the power required to Fold. All other ships in the Sydney's fleet were only capable of low-space drive, which took time. In fact, the Light Carrier Tasmania had plunged at best speed into low-space almost three and a half hours ago, enroute to some unknown destination.

Before Robert could ask another question, the CAG stepped into the briefing room from her office and the lights dimmed, signaling the pilots to take seats and ushering silence through the room. "Good afternoon, Devils" Commander Shannon 'Osprey' Choy greeted the gathered pilots and set her tablet on the podium.

"At approximately 0750 two days ago, Recovery Corvette Cuttlefish dispatched a single Barracuda, 327 designation Pinto, to first the Sydney and then to [Insert Star Here]. Aboard was a planetary survey team under orders to verify the habitability of the Nth planet of the system." Shannon paused for a moment, allowing the pilots to mutter in surprise before continuing. Habitable planets were extremely rare and securing one would be a top priority. Surprise at finding one was only a natural reaction.

"The team failed to report in twelve hours ago as planned. Pickets have reported indicators of Tosker activity in the region, so the Admiral has decided to investigate with the Sydney. Three and a half hours ago, Cuttlefish, Tasmania, and the destroyers Swordfish and Tigershark were dispatched as the vanguard for the Fleet. "

"Squadrons one, two and three will be configured for superiority and will receive support from the majority 55th Recovery Wing from the Cuttlefish. Their Barracudas will be kitted out for recovery and Fire Support. Fourth Squadron will be equipped for ground and atmospheric combat and will be in direct support of Search and Rescue elements from the 55th. Those 'Cudas will be carrying Marines, so guard them well."

"First squadron you will be assigned to....."
****
Robert exited the briefing room with an unexpected and unusual knot of anxiety settling itself in his stomach. It had been three months since the last time they'd run into any Tosker, an incursion off of Rigel Station, and the fight had been vicious. The brutish aliens would fight to the last and did not believe in taking prisoners, either. It was said they'd been enslaved for hundreds of years but when they broke free they wiped out any traces of the civilization who'd done so and swore to the destruction of any others they found. Ever since humanity had discovered them thirty years ago both races had been locked in a sort of cold war that would occasionally spill over into border skirmishes but otherwise remained balanced.

With a new habitable system entering the equation, however, the chances of the war going hot increased exponentially. Habitable systems were rare commodities and anyone finding them would not let one go without a fight. If the Tosker knew about [System Name] they would no doubt be sending their own forces to lay claim as quickly as possible.

The Barbarian interrupted Roberts thoughts, having dropped his longer stride to walk alongside his wingman. "I've got a bad feeling about this one, you know? Like we're walking into a dark room with bags on our heads and guys with hammers just waiting to beat the shit out of us."
Robert nodded. "Yeah. I've got that too. The stakes are way too high this time, there's no way the Tosker will just let this one go."

"Yup. I'm just hoping they don't send a Hive Ship." Eric The Barbarian shivered. "I was on the New York when one of those showed up. Last I heard the old lady was still in dock being put back together." Robert glanced over at the other pilot. "Wasn't that three years ago?"
Eric ducked through the hatch to the locker room, shaking his head "No. Four."

Robert let out a slow whistle. Hive Ships were the Tosker equivalent to a Fleet Carrier and were tough as all hell, since they were basically massive asteroids with drives and weapons strapped on. Protected by the thick rock of the 'roid itself, the interior spaces held an entire colony breeding population in cold storage. The reptilian Tosker cared little for comfort, could hibernate for years at a time and reproduced prodigiously once set loose on a world. Once they had a foothold, they were nearly impossible to dislodge without setting the entire planet on fire.

The pilots quickly donned their flight suits, conversation on hold. The suits, once helmets were donned, would allow the pilots to survive for a limited amount of time outside their fighters in case they were forced to eject. Hopefully that wouldn't happen, instead it would be a boring, routine mission and the lost 'Cuda had merely broken down. Robert reached to the top shelf and withdrew his helmet from its rack and with his free hand he snatched the picture stuck to the inside of his locker door from its mount. He paused for a moment to examine it, his two daughters and wife smiling at him.

They were back in Sol, living on Europa Colony. Thinking about the new planet, he felt a twinge of hope; there would be a lottery for colonists and serving military and their families always went to the head of the line. Perhaps after this tour he'd be able to move them to a place where his daughters could finally see clouds and trees....

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, interrupting his daydream. "Come, Jester. The Tosker are holding court and it would be impolite to keep them waiting for entertainment." The Barbarian smiled at him, helmet under his arm.
"No, by all means, let's not keep them waiting."
****
When the four Terran ships emerged from Low-Space, they discovered the Tosker were, in fact, waiting for them on the far side of the Nth planet. It was only a pair of ships, but one was an escort carrier and the other was a heavy cruiser, more than enough firepower to eliminate the smaller Terran ships if not for their speed.

The fighter screen deployed almost immediately, save for third squadron which had been held back to be reconfigured. For Robert and Eric, that meant another fifteen minutes waiting in their cockpits as the deck crew scrambled to remove the superiority weapons packages and connect the modular bomber package.

The F-45(M) Star Cobra was at bare bones simply a powerplant, pair of light cannons and a cockpit mounted on a moderately armored frame. Without any packages mounted the Cobra looked like a wedge with a beam emerging from the back and terminated with an oversized engine system.

Everything on the spacecraft was modular, even the avionics packages, making it capable of being configured for every mission the Navy could devise. The superiority package the technicians had removed was made up of extra maneuverability thrusters, light missile racks and a quartet of heavy cannons, all set in a pair of large blisters bulging from either side of the craft.

Because of the heavy cruiser, Third had been reconfigured to Assault Bomber, which meant a pair of bulky cylnders, one loaded with anti-matter bombs and the other with a light grav-lance had been affixed to the craft. Also part of the package was a heavier shield generator as the grav-lance power draw ate considerable margin from the powerplant's speed reserves. While the anti-matter bombs were excellent anti-ship weapons, the grav-lance was powerful enough to punch through even a battlecruiser's armor. The key was, however, getting close which was difficult as the Assault package turned the normally sleek Cobra into an ugly, blocky brick.

"Hey, Barbarian? I hope you're happy," Robert growled over their private link as their fighters launched from Tasmania's bay.

"What are you talking about, Jester?"

Robert reached forward and touched the picture he'd placed on the glare shield one more time and then keyed his mic. "You had to say you had a bad feeling about this. That's right up there with 'it could be worse.'" There was silence for a moment before The Barbarian could be heard laughing. Being in his fighter caused Eric's personality to fill out as much as he filled the cockpit, and the normally quiet man had turned into the boisterous Norse warrior he claimed to have descended from. "I guess we may be making a reservation for dinner in Valhalla tonight!"

"Not if I have anything to say about it, we're not." Robert wasn't about to let any lizards keep him from getting back home, even if he was in a flying target. "You see these stars, Barbarian? I'm going to see these every night, once we've kicked these guys out of this system!"
Again, the massive pilot laughed. "I hope you are right, friend!"

(Next will be more discussion of dogfights, culminating with their run on the heavy cruiser)