Wings of Steele- The Series, page 34
part #1 of Wings of Steele Series
After a deep breath, he saw a flash in the distance, below him and to his left. "Adios, dirtbag!" came Paul's voice over the comm.
Steele had lost track, "Is that all of them?"
"No," answered Maria, "I could use a hand with this shuttle..." She was having a hard time getting a clear shot, the rear gunner taking pot shots at her while she wove back and forth to avoid being hit.
She was all the way on the other side of the debris field and the only one in range of the fleeing pirate. "Back off a bit," coached Paul. "Lay off your guns and let your shields recharge. Hit him with a missile then close in and finish him off."
In all the excitement, she was embarrassed to have forgotten the missiles. "Right!" She pulled back hard and reduced power, getting a missile lock a heartbeat later. She thumbed off the safety and fired one, paused, then fired another, jinking to avoid the rear gunner's fire. It was easier from a distance but she didn't have to do it again. Two thirds of the craft disappeared in a double yellow flash. "Adios, pendejo," she sneered. Maria could hear the other pilots cheering her on across the comm as they rounded the debris field.
"Where do you suppose these jokers came from, Pappy?"
"I don't know, Mad Dog. Everybody form up."
"When you get to this side you'll see it," advised Maria. "It's almost at the edge of my sensor range."
"How big?" asked Jack.
"It appears to be about the same size as the Freedom.”
When the Warthogs regrouped, the visitor was still there. "Let's see if they want to play," said Paul. He switched to long range frequency as the four fighters coasted wingtip to wingtip toward the distant ship. Paul used his best authoritative voice, "Unidentified ship... this is Squadron Leader Paul Smiley, of the UFW strike-carrier Freedom. What are your intentions? Do you wish to engage?" The ship quickly moved out of their sensor range without replying. "I didn't think so," added Paul.
Steele didn't want to take any chances, "Think we should see if they're really leaving?"
Paul switched back to a local frequency. "I don't expect so. They'll go lick their wounds after a sound beating like that. The Freedom's behind us, outside their sensor range. If I were them, I wouldn't be curious enough to come back and check."
It made sense to Jack. "Then let's go see what they were after."
■ ■ ■
The pilots carefully maneuvered through the drifting debris to its center. It was a large ship but so damaged it was difficult to determine what kind. They could find no markings or identification on it. "Think it's worth doing a walk through?" asked Mike.
Steele looked over at Paul. At about fifty feet away he could see his face clearly through the canopy perspex, illuminated by the soft glow of his instruments. "As long as you're sure they won't be back."
Paul shook his head. "I wouldn't; not if I thought I had to face a carrier. We gave their flight a professionally dealt ass-kicking, they have no reason to doubt our claim."
Jack nodded and smiled. "Pretty slick."
"Hey," called Maria, "my fuel warning light just came on!"
Jack quickly checked his, he was half full. "You must have a leak, we'd better head back." He advised the tower and the four fighters started back to the Freedom in formation. Halfway there, Maria reported a flame-out on her port engine. "Shut it down," advised Jack. She lifted the safety cover and toggled off its power.
With gear down and antigravity on, Maria's starboard engine began to sputter on final approach. "Uh oh..."
"What's uh oh?" asked Jack.
"Bingo fuel," responded Maria, “my tanks just ran dry...”
"That's OK, Lieutenant," said the tower, "you're lined up, just shut it down and coast in." She acknowledged and toggled off the power for the starboard engine, Jack throttling down, cutting off his engines to stay even with her.
As instructed by the tower, Jack applied braking jets as he neared the stern of the Freedom. Maria's fighter passed him by. "Uh oh..."
"Now what?!" shouted Jack.
"No brakes," replied Maria calmly.
The crewman in the flight tower sprang to his feet and slammed his hand down on a large red button on his console, sounding an alarm in the flight bay. "Crash crews! Crash crews!" Huge snag nets stretching across the landing strip dropped from the ceiling of the flight bay, dragging heavily on the deck. "Shut down everything but your antigravity and comm," he told Maria.
Steele was too close to abort his landing and braked hard cutting off his antigravity as Maria's fighter buried itself in the snag nets, tearing off her nose gear, finally coming to rest in the third net. After dropping heavily to the deck with a resounding thud, Jack's fighter slid off the landing strip in a shower of sparks and a squeal of skid plates on metal deck, coming to a stop in the taxiing lane.
Steele yanked the canopy release handle and tore at his harness. He tossed his helmet on the dash, not bothering to shut down all the systems and stood in his seat, pulling all the power and comm leads free. Jumping to the deck, he rolled, bounced to his feet and leaned into a full run towards the netted Warthog. It was a long run, but he got there quickly, the ground crew was still pulling her from the cockpit. Two missiles lay scattered on the deck and one hung in the netting. "Watch those, sir," pointed a crewman. Jack stepped around them.
Paul and Mike braked early on their approach and coasted slowly in for a short, cautious landing. They could see Maria on a stretcher, surrounded by CABL M7, a medic, Jack, Derrik and Brian. But they couldn't tell if she was moving or not. Exchanging glances from their cockpits about fifty feet apart, they too jumped to the deck without waiting for ground personnel or a ladder.
The medic wiped the blood from her forehead while M7 adjusted his sensor pads to monitor her vitals. "How many fingers do you see?" asked Jack holding up three fingers for her to see.
"How many am I supposed to see...?" groaned Maria. "Why does my head hurt?" She ran her hand lazily through her hair and touched blood. "Ichh, what's thisss stuffff...?" M7 glanced around and shook his head, making it clear they were not to tell her.
Derrik changed the subject. "That was a spiffy landing, love..."
"What landing?" Her eyes rolled around.
"Time to go..." urged M7, punching the keys on the electric gurney.
Paul and Mike skidded to a stop next to Jack as the medic and M7 trotted off alongside the whirring electric gurney carrying Maria. Paul grabbed Jack's elbow. "Is she OK?" he asked breathlessly.
Steele was watching them go. His arms folded tightly across his chest, he was battling his emotions. He thought about the friend he lost on the police department. "Maybe I shouldn't have taken her out..." He stared at the floor and toyed with the head of a rivet on the deck with the toe of his boot.
"She wouldn't have had it any other way," said Brian. "You couldn't have grounded her if you wanted to..."
Mike nodded, "He's right, she would've never stood for that."
"Stop talking past tense," said Derrik. "She's not bloody dead... she'll be fine!"
A mechanic ran up to Jack and handed him a wireless headset. "It's Commander Edgars, sir."
Jack held the headset to his ear, "What's up, Walt?"
"We're reading several small power sources in that debris out there, Jack..."
"Damn! They're back?"
"No, no, screens are clear. These originated in the debris. Maybe you'd like to take another look?"
Jack nodded, "Yeah we've already talked about it. Listen, get a shopping list from M7, if we go aboard, we might see something he needs."
"Right-o." He paused, his voice quieter, "Um, how's Miss Arroyo?"
Steele cleared his throat and blinked hard. "Uh well, um, they took her to the infirmary. We don't know yet."
"I'll ask when I call for that list."
"Thanks, Walt."
Jack turned to the other pilots who stood by. "We need to go out and take another look around, who wants to go?" They all did. "OK, how about this... Mike and Pappy in fighters for cover. And me, Bri and Derrik in the shuttle?" It seemed to be agreeable to all.
A ground crewman walked up to Jack with Maria's helmet in his hand. It had a sizable crack in it. "I don't get it, sir, we just can't figure out what she hit. There's no marks on anything in the cockpit, nothing's broken..." The pilots huddled around and examined it. Someone gave out a low whistle. Jack handed it back to the frowning lineman. "Is she going to be OK, sir?"
Jack smiled at him. He was pleased with the concern. "I hope so."
The Crew Chief for Maria's fighter strolled up. "Well it's fixable, but it'll be a couple of days." Untangled from the nets, the fighter's nose was sitting on an antigravity pad and a group of men began pushing it to its maintenance bay for repairs. The snag nets slowly retracted into open slots in the ceiling. "She took a couple of hits with no shields," the Chief continued. "That caused her fuel leak. Another hit or two and she wouldn't have come back." He scratched the sparse hair on the top of his head. "She's lucky..."
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
BAHIA SYSTEM, DEBRIS FIELD: GUNFIGHT AT THE OK CORRAL
Being that the shuttle was slower than the fighters, Brian had a much easier time winding through the debris than Mike and Paul. Some of the pieces were as small as a bread box, the largest, the size of a good-sized American car. Striking a small piece was of little consequence, hitting something sizable could damage a craft, even with its shields up. "I've got something here to the left," said Derrik who copiloted for Brian.
Sitting behind them at a detailed sensor array panel, Steele examined the oblong shape on his view screen. "Say's here it's an escape pod. Can you get closer?"
"No problem," said Brian. He maneuvered closer. "How's this?"
"Just fine..." Working a set of controls Steele was concentrating on reaching it with an external, mechanically articulated arm. "Gotcha..." he breathed, succeeding in grabbing an anchor ring. Working the controls, he drew it in close to the shuttle's hull and secured it with one of the many grapple claws on the outside of the hull. "Done," he announced.
"There's another one over here," called Mike. Derrik pointed out Mike's position on the scope and Brian swung the nose of the shuttle in his direction. All in all, they recovered four of the pods, three with power, one without. Everyone agreed it would be best to return to the Freedom and deposit the pods before returning to the wreck for a walk-through exploration.
Brian maneuvered the loaded shuttle slowly through the field. With its added girth, Brian was finding it more difficult to navigate. He armed the single Mercury Gatling gun and flipped off the safety. Derrik looked curiously at him. Brian smiled, pulled the trigger and wiggled the nose of the shuttle. The stream of silver balls swept everything from their path, destroying smaller pieces and hurling larger things out of the way.
Derrik smiled in appreciation and nodded. “Good show, mate...”
■ ■ ■
Aware of the life pod recoveries, the Professor had arranged for an armed security team to meet the shuttle as it landed, since the origin and loyalties of the ship and its crew was currently unknown. It was also unknown if the pods contained survivors or not, there was no way to tell until they were opened.
Brian brought the shuttle to a stop in front of the tower and shut down the antigravity system, letting it settle to the deck with a gentle bump. As he busied himself with the task of shutting down all its systems, Steele popped the port hatch and it hissed like a leaking tire before releasing and swinging open, a flood of flight bay air greeting him. He jumped to the deck before the short boarding ramp had dropped all the way down.
Leading the security team, Raulya greeted him on the deck, "Hi Jack," she said quietly, taking him off to one side. "I talked to CABLE M7 while we were waiting for you..."
"Yeah?" Steele moved closer. "How is she?"
"She's got a concussion and some swelling, but he said she'd be OK in about a week." Raulya adjusted her tunic absentmindedly. "He said she's grounded for about a month though..."
Jack sighed a deep relaxing breath, "Who cares, as long as she's going to be OK." His stomach had been in knots since M7 and the medic took her away. Brian and Derrik stepped out of the shuttle and over to where Jack and Raulya stood. "Raulya talked to the Doc," he volunteered, "Maria's going to be alright, but she's grounded for a while."
They both expressed a similar sigh of relief. "Mind if I pop up to see her?" inquired Derrik.
"Nah, go ahead,” waved Jack. “We got this covered." He glanced at the mechanics who were working on releasing the escape hatches on two of the pods. "Tell her we'll be up a little later." Derrik nodded and trotted off.
One of the pods was sweating condensation profusely, creating a puddle of water underneath. "That doesn't look good," commented Jack.
"It's not," offered a mechanic. Jack could see M7 and the medic standing behind the security team. They were leaning casually against the gurney, talking quietly. Jack turned back when he heard the hiss of the hatch, first for one, then the other of the two pods. There was a cold rush of air out of the first, as the door squeaked open, the hinges frozen with ice. Two frozen figures covered in frost, one man, one woman, sat huddled together, wrapped in blankets. The mechanic shook his head in sorrow, "Total system failure..." Ironically, the second life pod which was functioning perfectly, was empty.
Everyone moved around to the other side of the shuttle, to open the last two life pods. Again, the doors hissed as the seals were broken. A man stood in the doorway of the first, wrapped in a blanket. He shielded his eyes with his hand from the lights in the landing bay. "Where am I?"
"Safe," said Raulya, taking his hand. "You're on the cruiser Freedom."
"What is your alliance?" he inquired as he stepped to the deck.
"Independently owned, we ally with the UFW." He nodded and looked relieved. M7 and the medic assisted him to the gurney. As he lay down, the blanket parted and revealed a tattered uniform tunic and a bent pair of wings. Raulya noticed but said nothing.
"What of Dakkah... Mozzy..." The medic hushed him and administered a sedative.
The last pod held a prone occupant cocooned in blankets. Raulya and M7 entered to see if he was alive. His eyes opened slowly and did not blink. "Let's get him outside," said M7. He was carefully moved out and placed on a second gurney. With the assistance of security, M7 and the medic moved the two survivors to the infirmary.
Jack grabbed a line Chief. "What about the other two?" He was referring to the unfortunate couple who had frozen to death.
"Well," he thought for a moment. “We'll probably just seal the pod... permanently," he added, "then eject it with the others."
Jack nodded. "OK, but wait until after dinner to eject it. I'll see if we can find out who they are, and we'll say a few words first."
The mechanic had no idea what Jack meant by a few words, but it didn't make any difference to him. "Sure, Captain, whatever you want."
The pilots agreed to eat dinner and visit the infirmary before taking a third trip to the wreck. Ground crews ejected the empty life pods and busied themselves doing prep and maintenance on the ships that would be going back out. The pilots went to dinner. "I'm going to the bridge to see the Professor first," said Steele, "I'll meet you guys in the galley."
■ ■ ■
"Listen Jack, I know you want to check out that wreck, see if there's anything on it we can use, Lord knows we need everything... but I think we should move on."
Jack sat in his command chair and scratched Fritz's head. "What's on your mind Walt?"
"I just get the very distinct feeling that our friends will be back. And very possibly with some assistance." He could see the doubt in Jack's face. "Let me show you why," he continued, rotating a monitor on his console toward Jack. "We're here..." he pointed. "Here's the gate we're heading to, it's about three hours off. According to the logs on your fighters, that pirate cruiser went this way..." He drew a line on the screen with his finger, to another gate. "Towards this gate, less than an hour away from his last position."
"OK," said Jack thoughtfully, "what does that mean to us?"
"That gate..." Walt hesitated, "goes to heavily patrolled pirate territory." He held up his hand before Jack could interrupt. "And I did a bit of digging on that wreck out there. It looked familiar, but I wasn't sure, I mean with all that damage..."
"What did you come up with Walt?" interrupted Steele, growing a bit impatient, his stomach growling.
"I believe that's a Royal Velorian freighter."
Jack shrugged, "OK..." The name meant nothing to him.
"I only know, because I saw one when I visited Rathskell Spindle Spaceport, in..."
Steele raised one eyebrow, "Get to the point, Walt."
"Oh yes. Well... Royal Velorean freighters are very fast. Owned by the royal family of Veloria, they are usually reserved for cargo of extreme importance. Sometimes diplomats, but usually rare goods, even military equipment. We are like the proverbial lion who has stolen the prize from the jackals. They will return with the pack."
Jack sat perfectly still for a moment, staring at nothing. The Professor's concerns were well founded, but he just couldn't pass up a peek. It was like finding yourself in the ladies locker room and not sneaking a look into the showers. Half the thrill was getting away with it. Jack snatched the wireless comm headset off his console and jumped up. "Keep an eye on things, Walt." He trotted towards the door followed by Fritz. "Leave us on yellow alert..." he passed into the corridor.
■ ■ ■
"Pilots to the infirmary, pilots to the infirmary." The pilots stopped eating when the page called and looked up, expecting more. "That's Jack," said Brian.
"Wonder what's up," said Paul, rising from the galley table. Brian rose, sandwich in hand. He picked up another, wrapped it in a napkin one handed and carried it with the first.
"Still hungry?" asked Mike.
Brian shook his head. "Jack didn't eat yet..."
The three pilots hustled down the hall, still eating what they could carry from the galley.
