Chapter 18: The Alliance Armada
The Alliance Task Force was nearly complete when Juan and his group of fighters, shuttles, and transports had arrived nearly a week earlier. The caravan of small ships made up about two-thirds of the Phoenix's crew. The rest had to stay behind because there simply were not enough ships with quantum speed engines to take everyone. Of those who stayed behind, they still held onto hopes of nursing the Phoenix back home. With only one working engine, no quantum speed generator and no fighters to protect it in enemy controlled space; they knew the odds were not good.
The crew that had been brought from the Phoenix had been reassigned to various ships throughout the fleet. Juan's squad was assigned to the Merrimack, a Dreadnought-class Carrier, one of the largest in the fleet. 92 ships made up the Alliance Armada, from several different worlds. Despite the massive size of their fleet, optimism was not running high. The Alliance had played out this scenario three times before, forced the Serken back into their own system and made a final push to defeat them, only to be overwhelmed and forced to retreat. In each attempt, they lost the bulk of their forces. Their intelligence believed that the enemy had lost too many of its forces over the past year to have the same strength built up as they did before, but that was also the same thing they indicated the last time.
Juan assembled his squad in the briefing room to review their performance. He had been leading practice drills three times a day for the last week since they joined the Task Force. When he was just a pilot, he could never understand how those in command could constantly quote numbers, percentages, and statistics to them when no one cared about any of that stuff. As he looked out at his team, the numbers haunted him. Two out of three would not be coming back. That was the number from the most optimistic assessment of their upcoming mission. He would be leading two-thirds of his friends to their death. There was no alternative, no other choice, and no reprieve. As he talked in front of the screen showing footage from their cockpit cameras he felt it difficult to focus on the details. All he could see was their faces looking to him for leadership. He found it easier to quote statistics and percentages rather than names and details of their flying. It felt like forever to him, but the briefing was over in just under ten minutes. His last order to them was to get a good night's rest because they would be doing another flight drill at 0600.
Julie kept her seat, with her eyes on the floor, as everyone else left.
"What?" Juan asked. Julie didn't say anything. "What?" he asked again.
"Nothing, Sir." she finally answered in a muffled tone that was out of character for her. Something was eating at her, that much was clear to him.
"You have a problem with my briefing?"
"No."
"You got something to say to me that you couldn't say in front of everyone else?"
"No."
"Then what is it?"
"Nothing."
"Damn it Juls, if I didn't know better I'd think you were scared."
Julie didn't answer. Instead, she looked down at the blank pad she on which she was supposed to be taking notes. Wiping a tear away from her cheek she stood up without looking at him and headed for the door.
"Lieutenant!" Juan said in a stern tone to require her to stop and face him.
She did as ordered, but kept her eyes on the floor.
Juan walked up to her and stood before her for a moment waiting for her to look at him. She would not. He then put his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. It wasn't what she was looking for, but it was what she needed. She sobbed, not loud, not long and it was just for a moment, a bit of humanity on the eve of mechanized chaos. She then pushed back away from him and stood at attention.
Julie had been one of the toughest people he had ever known. Nothing ever seemed to faze her. The more difficult the situation, the more she smiled and joked. Yet being the strong, positive one on the team had become too much for her. She could hold it together in front of everyone else, but not with him. Juan was the closest thing she had to family and at that moment, just for a moment that was what she needed from him; a moment to be something other than a soldier, other than a fighter and other than one of the guys. Just a moment to be human and a friend to hold her while she did.
An announcement over the P.A. called Juan to report to the Captain's office. He put his arms around her and pulled her head to his shoulder. Then he whispered into her ear "Last one back on the deck buys the drinks." Julie laughed and hugged him back. She then pulled herself off of Juan, wiped her eyes and left the room without saying a word. Juan collected his pads and headed towards the bridge.
~~~
As soon as Juan entered the bridge of the clean, well lit and new Carrier ship, he was directed to the Captain's side office. When he entered it, the Captain, the First Officer, and the Chief Tactical Officer were all waiting to talk to him. Juan was caught a little off guard. A junior officer was not called to the Captain's office to stand before the top three ranking officers on the ship unless there was a serious problem. His gut tightened as he tried to think of anything that he had done that would have brought him to such a situation. Without waiting for the formalities, Captain Low threw down a 10x10 inch color slide. "What do you know about sector C-489?"
Juan couldn't tell you which sector Earth was in without looking at a map, but that particular sector was one he knew by the number. "It's a solar system with twelve planets. Four are gas giants, six are mostly rocks like mercury, and a couple are earth like with water, vegetation, and possible animal life. It also is full of plasma storms that disable every probe we send into it." Juan answered still standing at attention before the three officers who were sitting around the steel briefing table.
The First Officer spoke up. "Yet we understand that you proposed a plan to lead a rescue mission to find a pilot that might have ended up there."
"Yes, Sir," Juan said without hesitation.
"You like taking risks?" The First Officer added.
"No Sir," Juan responded. "But it wasn't to find just any pilot. The mission was to find Commander O'Hara, an Ace eight times over and a squadron commander with nearly twenty years of combat experience. I think any command would view an asset like that worth the risk."
"Your Captain didn't agree." the First Officer replied in a voice meant to keep junior officers in their place.
Juan's back stiffened with anger. He didn't know these officers too well, but he wasn't about to let them question his loyalty to the Corp or his former Captain. "Captain Roche made a difficult choice. I didn't agree with it, but I respected it and had no difficulty following his orders."
Captain Low looked at his First Officer with a look to communicate that his comment to Juan was out of line. He then turned his attention back to Juan. "At ease Lieutenant, we are not questioning your loyalty. Your record speaks to that. What we want to know is if you still have the stomach to fly into that hornets' nest."
"Sir?" Juan said, asking for clarification.
The Captain opened up a classified file. "The enemy has been sending probes into it for the last five days, and this morning they launched two small Commando Carriers towards that same system. Now, why would they risk sending two teams of commandos into a solar system full of plasma storms that disabled all of their probes?"
Juan picked up one of the photos and studied it for a moment. "I don't know Sir."
"Neither do we, but Fleet Command wants to know." The Captain said as he studied Juan's face to see if it displayed either fear or resolve.
Juan was elated; it was the chance he thought he would never have but did his best to hold back his smile. "I'll get my team together right away," he said, prepared to be dismissed so to get to work.
"Hold on Lieutenant." The Captain ordered. "This is a direct reconnaissance mission only. Get in, identify what the enemy is doing and get out. You can make a quick scan for your missing pilot as you make your way through the system, but you can't spend any additional time looking for him. If you should happen to find him, we will consider a rescue mission, if it is feasible. Understood?"
Juan didn't answer at first. He desperately wanted to argue for the time to search, but couldn't come up with the words.
The Captain repeated himself. "Understood?"
"Yes, Sir," Juan responded respectfully despite his frustration.
"Have your ship ready to fly by 0400."
"Yes, Sir," Juan answered putting himself at attention ready to respond to a salute and dismissal.
"Dismissed," The Captain said and saluted.
Juan returned the salute and left the office.
The tension in the room was thick as each of the officer's silently questioned what they had just done. The First Officer turned to the Captain and asked. "What do you think he's going to find out there?"
"My best guess?" The Captain said putting the intelligence memo pad down on the table. "I think the enemy has found a way to navigate the plasma storms and are trying to bait us into the trap. I hate to sacrifice anyone, but if it is a trap I would rather risk one fighter than an entire ship; and since the young lieutenant is so eager to go... well, it's always better to send a volunteer than it is to order a man to take a one-way trip." The Captain poured himself his third cup of black coffee and then said to the other officers. "What's next?"
~~~
A Carrier ship is an extremely large ship, usually a quarter of a kilometer wide and nearly a kilometer long. With the distance between the bridge and the flight deck being far too long to walk they utilized express paths, which were primarily moving sidewalks that ran from one end of the ship to the other on the top, mid and bottom decks of the ship. They moved in five rows. As a person stepped on the first one, they would be moving at 5 KPH. A person could then easily step over to the next one that would be moving at 10 KPH. Each row increased up by 5 KPH. The last moved at 25 KPH and could get a person from one end of the ship to the other in just a few minutes. Juan stepped onto the path and quickly moved over to the express row.
"Juan!" A voice called from behind. "Wait up."
Juan turned to see Smitty trying to catch up with him on the express path. Smitty was the most senior pilot on his squad and would have been Juan's superior if he had been less of a drinker and more of a model officer in his earlier days in the service. Smitty was a good pilot and had come to terms with the fact that he would reach retirement age with a rank no higher than Ensign. Juan was someone whom he wished he had been more like in his younger days, so he was very supportive of Juan when he moved up in the ranks and was made 2nd in command of the squad. Yet, he felt Juan was still green behind the ears and needed his advice and guidance from time to time. Juan stepped over to a slower moving row to make it easier for Smitty to close the gap.
"What's up Smitty?"
"I heard you're going after O'Hara. I would like to volunteer for the mission." Smitty said, still trying to catch his breath.
"There is no mission," Juan said. He didn't want to take that particular side of that particular argument, but he had his orders.
"But I heard..."
"You heard wrong. It's a recon mission only," Juan said, sternly trying to close the discussion.
Smitty didn't want to give up on the idea. "But it's in the same system that we think O'Hara went down in."
"Yes, it is." Again Juan was short with his answer trying to close the topic.
"So you're going to need a rescue shuttle for when you find him, and I'm the best shuttle pilot you got." Smitty often talked to Juan in a way that was still respectful, but also with a bit of authority in it like talking to a younger sibling.
Juan stood his ground and looked Smitty dead in the eyes. "There will be no rescue shuttle, just my fighter. I'll be taking a few quick scans and then getting out of there before the enemy can track me."
"What the hell!" Smitty said pissed off. "We had this worked out. You were the one who convinced us that this was the system that he must be in. All of us, especially you, owe our lives to him a dozen times over. Now you are going to pass through without even trying."
"I didn't say that. I will do a scan for human life and his transponder. If I come back with proof that he is there and that the enemy hasn't established a base, then command will let us put together a rescue plan."
"There are a lot of ifs in that plan." Smitty completely disregarded their ranks and status. He was talking as a friend; a betrayed friend.
"I know." In any other situation, Juan would not let a lower ranking officer talk to him like that, but Smitty was voicing what Juan was feeling himself.
"What if you find him and he's hurt or dying? Your fighter only sits one. Are you just going to leave him behind?"
Juan looked straight at Smitty and said without blinking "Yes. That's exactly what I will do because those are my orders. O'Hara would be the first to tell both of us that the needs of the Corp come before anything else. Once we disregard the chain of command, there is no Corp, and our reason for serving our nation is gone. So I'm giving you an order. Drop it!"
He stepped back over to the express row and continued on his way to the flight deck to prep his fighter for his mission. Smitty didn't follow. As much as he wanted to continue the argument he knew that there was nothing Juan could do without disobeying orders and as much as he wished Juan would have the courage to turn a blind eye to Command, Smitty knew he never would.