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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/580669
Rated: 13+ · Book · Action/Adventure · #1416720
The first Navy in outer space.
#580669 added April 21, 2008 at 2:56pm
Restrictions: None
Chapter 25
Chapter 25

April 28 2184, 15:20 Hours (Standard Solar Time)
Aboard USNI Carrier "Waterloo" In Lunar Orbit

The sirens wailed and Chang sprinted down the corridor painted by the flashing red emergency lights. He nearly slid turning a sharp corner but Greenbaum caught him.
"Come on," his squad mate said. "We need to get to the flight deck."
They double timed it down two flights of stairs and down another corridor. Without warning the entire ship jolted violently. This time Chang did hit the ground. He landed hard against his elbow and he clenched his teeth. The lights threatened to go out but they flickered back to life after a few heartbeats. Something had hit them, but not hard enough.
He got back to his feet, holding his wrist against his body. He had gotten the cast removed only two days before and it throbbed even now. Greenbaum grabbed his collar and he ran.
At last they reached the flight deck. Crew chiefs and avionics crews rushed between Marauders making last minute adjustments. Ordnance loaders hauled missiles and ballistics. Chang made his way to the area where hundreds of technicians helped pilots equip their flight suits.
Chang and the rest of the squad found Captain Seymour getting suited up. A pair of techs rolled a large metal container toward them that held their squads suits. He tore off his shoes and was about to toss away his shirt when the Captain said, "Chang, come here."
He walked to him as the technicians connected the various electrical components of the white and blue suit. "Chang, you have to stay here."
"What?" he asked. Why would the Captain suggest such a thing?
Seymour shook his head. "Your arm is still recovering, you have to stay behind."
"Captain, my arm will be fine." Even as he said it though, his wrist was inflamed.
He looked at Chang skeptically. "Let me see your wrist." He stuck it out immediately for inspection. The Captain took his wrist in his hand. He closed his fingers around it, applying pressure slowly at first but then greater. Chang's face began to flush as his brow trembled. He struggled to remain stoic but at last the pain overwhelmed him. He cried out and pulled his wrist away.
"Lieutenant, how can you pilot a Marauder at several Gees when I can't even put a few pounds of pressure against your arm?" Captain Seymour shook his head. "You would be a liability, Chang."
"I can do my duty," Chang said in a low, trembling voice.
"Stay here and watch over us from the Control Room." The Captain locked his helmet into place and left for his Marauder.
Greenbaum slapped him on the shoulder. "We'll be fine Chang. You can buy the first round of drinks tonight if it'll make you feel better."
Moore waved goodbye with the rest. They had all become his friends, as close to family as his last squad had been on the Alamo.
Changed watched them go. He watched them climb up the ladders and settle into the cockpits of their fighters. He watched as they were lowered down the elevators into the launch bays. He watched as his Marauder was carried off the flight deck to make room for the others.
He left and headed to the control room. It was a room that was half the size of the flight deck but no less chaotic. Data straight from the battle was analyzed in real time and commanders sent orders to their subordinates. Squadrons were coordinated and strategies were organized.
Chang found a vacant terminal and took a seat. He logged on and pulled up real-time video feeds of his squad and navigational charts of the entire battle.
"Hey," called a young Ensign behind Chang. "That's my station." Chang craned his neck and glared at the man with eyes as severe as a twenty-one gun salute. "Uh-I'll find another one," the Ensign stammered.
Chang returned to the console. The battle was too close and too chaotic to tell which side was winning. The Waterloo was in close orbit with Luna and seemed to be guarding the Germania. Another, larger force seemed dedicated to doing the same to the Alamo and the Earth. Chang tapped into the COM system and put on a pair of headphones.
"Henry, pull in closer."
"Roger that Gold One Six."
"Alright everyone," the Captain said. "This is it. Contact in thirty seconds. Watch your sixes and the six of the Marauder next to you. Get in close and use your nose cannons. Remember, they're at a disadvantage in a dogfight." Seymour paused and added, "Godspeed."
Chang closed his eyes and wished he was there, right next to all of them. Gold team made contact. The enemy swarmed around them but they endured. They maneuvered into better positions and outflanked the mindless machines.
Greenbaum took on fire but Moore was there to knock out his pursuer. They herded a pair of enemy fighters close together and blasted them apart with their automatic cannons. Chang gripped the sides of the desk until his knuckles lost all color. He felt so helpless here. He was confined to watch his squad and do nothing. He had learned from an early age that words were wind. What a person did was all that mattered; actions. Chang tried to think how he could act, but there was nothing. He was powerless against fate.
The skirmish ended and Chang relaxed just a little.
"Patrol Formation Sierra," Captain Seymour commanded. "We're going to secure the far side of Germania." The rest of Gold team formed up around him and they flew a steady arc around the perimeter of the lunar space base.
Chang studied the Battle Net. USNI had destroyed or disabled about twice as many ships as they had lost themselves. Even so, the Fist of Jupiter was still numerically superior.
An explosion jarred the Waterloo and Chang was thrown against the wall. The main over head light burst, sending sparks and small shards of glass in all directions and some one screamed. He had been so preoccupied worrying about his squad that Chang had forgotten he was in just as much danger.
The room's supplemental lights winked on. The skipper's voice came on over the intercom system, cushioned by static. "We're OK everyone. Just hold on, we're in for a rough one."
Chang checked the Battle net and saw a Carrier escort group moving in on their position. The Manassas was obliterated in a second. Shortly after that it was the Kraken. The FoJ group was heading straight for the Germania and Gold team.
The carrier flew right by the Germania, not firing a shot at the USNI's second most potent defensive position. There was something else though. Something that no one noticed at first; not Chang, not the analysts in the control room, and not Golf Team. Not until it was too late.
"What is that?" Greenbaum said.
"Enemy contact!" Captain Seymour shouted. It was the last thing he said before his COM went dead. Chang saw enemy fighter signatures suddenly flash all around Gold team. The carrier had dropped them off during its flyby and no one had noticed.
"FoJ fighter escort," Moore yelled. "Greenbaum, help me out here, I'm-" but Lieutenant Heather Moore died before she could finish.
Chang watched, trembling, as his entire squad was wiped out one Marauder at a time.
Greenbaum tapped into FleetCom, despite having no authority to do such a thing. "USNI forces," he called. "Be advised; Fist of Jupiter forces are assaulting the Lunar space base. Germania, prepare to repel a boarding action." Soon after finishing his warning, Greenbaum succumbed to his enemy and joined the rest of Gold team. Chang was all that remained.
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