Return

UNSF Space
12:24 SET
2195

The UNSF 4th Fleet, led by Admiral Beckerd A. Benson, had attacked savagely and without warning.

The battle against the Imperials had been raging for a little over forty minutes. It seemed that the UNSF would return, beaten.

“Vaughn!” Blackbird called to Captain Vaughn on the Explorer-A, “move to flank! The Enterprise is gone!”

“Acknowledged,” came the starship captain’s voice.

“Set up a point defense, Ordese,” ordered Cain. “See if you can’t take some of those pesky fighters out.”

“I’m on it, Commodore.”

The Stealthlon’s short range guns sounded, peppering a few of the Imperial fighters and narrowly missing UNSF ones.

“He’d better watch it!” called Commander Grant DaNastie, almost a victim of friendly fire. “When I get back to the ship I’m going to wring his neck.”

On the Explorer-A, Captain Vaughn was holding his own against a Captain Fullman, commander of the ISS Black Ice, a Long Sword IV class destroyer.

“Return fire!” he ordered, pointing at the screen. “Forward guns!”

The sound rang as the Explorer-A fired its forward guns at the Black Ice, full intensity. “This isn’t doing us much good, Captain,” Commander Clifton Martin observed quietly. “Maybe we should--”

Vaughn wheeled on Martin. “Do what, Commander? Fall back? Does the Explorer-A ever fall back this early in a battle?”

“No, Captain.”

“Then there’s no need to do so now.” The Captain straightened in his command chair. “Suggestions, bridge?”

“The Long Sword IV’s two main threats are firepower and maneuverability,” commanded Lieutenant Kondesh, the Explorer’s weapons officer. “We should disable those elements first.”

“Very well,” agreed Vaughn. “Target her main weapons.”

The USS Foch-D was defending itself nicely, along with the Black Sea.

“Tell the Stealths and the Pukin’ Dogs to fall back to left flank,” Captain Styles ordered, giving the Stealthlon some assistance. “That should help them out some.”

“What about our defenses, sir/”

“We’ll take care of ourselves, Lieutenant.”

Commander Skip Taylor, commander of the 177th Stealth Squadron, recalled his men and women to the Stealthlon to provide aid. All but three answered the call; those three were tied up with more immediate affairs.

Swooping to avoid a UNSF fighter that flew too close, Sanstreen released two stilettos that downed yet another Imperial fighter. Another notch on the kill board. Immediately, she headed for the 4th fleet flagship, joining her squadmates to set up a feasible defense.

“Blast it!” exclaimed Blackbird, no longer able to contain his temper. “Where is that Explorer when we need it?”

“It has a habit of doing that,” Cain chimed in. “Mansel’s going to have hell the pay for this one.”

Blackbird silently agreed. Also, he was worried about Mansel and his crew. It was most unlike the starship and its compliment to go missing for such a long period of time.

“The Ice’s port gun just went, sir,” reported Lieutenant Jones on the Explorer-A. “Out shields are weakening fast.”

“Throw all reserve power into the shields,” Vaughn ordered.

“Aye.”

“Kondesh, target that starboard gun,” Vaughn said, pointing at the gun at was swiveling in their direction. ‘Take it out.”

“Acknowledged.”

There was no need for the Explorer-A to worry about taking out the gun. From behind the Black Ice, half a dozen Stealth Squadron members flew in formation, converging on the Imperial warship. Unleashing both missiles and lasers, the starboard gun was quickly taken out.

“Kudos to Stealth Squadron,” said Captain Vaughn, expressionless. The Long Sword IV class vessel was quickly becoming defenseless.