Chapter 5

The journey towards the first jump point would take a couple of days. From the moment the ship left the system of Port Maw, all the crew saw were readiness drills, combat drills, or any other kind a commanding officer could think up. The crew didn't like it much. The officers on the other hand saw this as a golden opportunity to train the crew a bit more while they were still in relatively safe area.

Not knowing what's ahead, everyone could use all the training they could get. In addition to that, it would keep the crew occupied.

For all his experience, Mercer Trune had to agree with this. Going into combat within possibly two weeks, he had to get the hang of his new kite and fast. From the moment the ship departed Port Maw he had almost non stop briefings and classes on the Viper. Luckily his instructor seemed to be a man who knew what he was talking about.

As promised Mercer met his instructor at his cabin. The man looked as if he was somewhere past his fifties, his eyes looked older though. That he was a long time pilot was clear, but how he had stayed at this position for so long was a mystery to him. "You must be our new pilot! Mercer Trune right?"

"Right you are Mr....."

"Major Irwin Burke, but most call me Bingo. I'm your instructor and CO"

"Interesting name"

"It's just a callsign. You will get one in time. Put your stuff in your cabin if you haven't already and follow me. I'd like to start your training as soon as possible."

"Expecting trouble Major?"

"Word is we're going into battle within two weeks, so yeah you could say that." the old man answered while they both turned and walked the corridors. "Have they showed you your plane yet?"

"No sir, no time yet."

"Than we'll do that first" Major Burke said while ducking through the bulkhead leading to the main hangar deck. The entire deck was in motion. Hangar crews were giving maintenance to the spacecraft while others were preparing the fighters to be moved towards the flight pods. Small carts were driving to and from their respective destinations. And despite the maze of motion, Irwin Burke didn't seem to have any difficulty finding his way without someone driving over his toes.

Somewhere halfway in the middle of the bay stood a few small fighters coloured in white with red-bands. Though he was not familiar with the type, Trune could see that the white vessels were of an older type than the grey and sleeker ones, which were more numerous in the hangar. All were significantly smaller than his trusty old Fury, a mere 9 meters, which gave him serious doubts.

"Is that my plane? Isn't it a bit small"

"Don't let its size fool ya. This ship is fast, very manoeuvrable and has a nasty bite. Armed with two mass drivers and up to 8 missiles, this ship can turn very powerful ships of the line into burning hulks. Once you've flown this bird to its limit you'll see what it can do. You've read the plane's manual and operations?"

"Yes I have."

"Good, get in your flight-suit. You're going up in an hour."

Although the CIC always was a centre of activity, at the moment everything was relatively quiet. The the lower crewmen went on with their tasks while senior staff was monitoring exercises and navigation duties.

All radio traffic of the air-group exercises was routed to the speakers in the room, so all inside could listen in to all the chit-chat which was cast into the void. Some of it was more comedy than anything else. "Sounds like someone is enjoying himself."

"You know our fighter boys, always witty and on the line. Let them have this one, they've deserved it."

"Maybe you're right John, but our boys should be sharp while out there. By the way, our new Flight Sergeant is up for his first flight right about now."

"That should be something to listen to." Goradin said to no-one in particular.

"Why is that?"

"I've served with Mercer on a few occasions. When he's struggling his language becomes less civilized, if you catch my meaning."

Meanwhile Mercer Trune was strapped in his new plane and being loaded in the launch tube for the first time. Major 'Bingo' Burke had given him a personal introduction in the operation of the small craft and gave another lecture on the launch procedure. On the first glance this new fighter was simple and the controls didn't differ much from his Fury. Now he would find out how this bucket would fly.

The tube launcher came in on radio:

"This is shooter, I have control standby..... Viper 114 clear forward" loading completed and a massive door closed behind him, sealing him away from the hangar bay. All he could see now was a thick airlock door leading to the long tunnel ahead to the void, and the launch-tube control cabin to his right.

"Navcon green, Interval check" Trune checked the instruments and signalled the controller. The magnetic catapult came back and hooked his plane up with a soft thump while the outer door opened, sucking the remaining air away.

"Magcat ready, thrust positive and good luck." With those words the shooter pressed a button which launched the fighter out the launch tube with tremendous speed. Within seconds the little fighter emerged outside the huge battlestar, now flying on his own.

Following the instructions of the Major, Mercer immediately throttled up and tried to stabilize his fighter. Instead he overcorrected and started bouncing all over the place. His angry cursing and swearing was there for everyone to hear. In the CIC operators were listening over the speakers to the rapid fire of bad language. Here and there a few smiles and badly camouflaged grins emerged on various faces. Even the senior officers had a hard time keeping a straight face. Lieutenant Goradin did no such effort to hide his amusement.

"I think I know what you mean Daemus" Howard said with barely a straight face.

Major Burke was flying in the void together with Mercer to teach his new "Nugget" how to fly.

"Easy on the stick Sergeant! Easy, easy, Holy Frack!" Burke sweared while he had to evade. His Nugget came barreling down straight towards him. "Nugget! Small movements, use small movements and go easy on the throttle!"

"This damned bucket is all over the place. Can't get the bloody thing straight, and don't call me Nugget!"

"Until you master your plane I call you whatever I want. You are way too enthusiastic with the controls. You are not flying a Fury, you are flying a Viper. So fly like one!"

It took some effort, but after about thirty or so seconds, he managed to straighten the craft out, more or less. "Be careful nugget. Your Viper can turn end on end in 0.34 seconds. Keep that in mind when you fly or you'll be hosed out of your cockpit by the chief of the deck. Lets try a few simple circuits to let you get the hang of it. Keep on my 4. Follow me."

Both planes took off and started their racetrack pattern. Now this nugget got his plane under control, things went better. Over time he became more confident flying it and stopped bobbing up and down around him. After a few touch and go's on the port flightpod, the man's status as a veteran pilot came forward.

Though this sense of progress was short to live. Something was off so 'Bingo' Burke turned his craft around and watched his rear. At first sight nothing special was around, save for a small asteroid field some distance away. But after a little while it was clear that there was something out there.

"Invictus-Bingo, I've got contacts inside the asteroid field, how copy over."

"Copy that Bingo, we're getting faint contacts here. Get your flight home, alert Vipers on the way."

"Roger Invictus, Bingo RTB. Okay Nugget, we've got Bogeys on our tail. Reinforcements are coming but we've got orders to land ASAP so firewall the throttle!"

In the CIC everyone was working hard to get to action stations while trying to identify the unknown craft. Though none of the Battlestar crew had any idea of the classes and weaponry in the sector.

"Commander, if I may?" Goradin asked while gesturing towards the sensor operators. Price nodded.

"Crewman, can you get me a visual on those contacts?"

After flipping a few switches and button presses three ships emerged on the screen.

"Commander, these ships appear to be a Havoc Class Merchant raider escorted by two Claymore Class Corvettes, followed by strike craft. Possibly Furies and Faustus interceptors. I advise prioritizing the Havoc first as it is better armed."

"What are the weapons on those ships?"

"The havoc has Plasma based weapons. Those can cause severe damage to an unshielded ship this size. The Claymores have a single railgun, similar to your calibre, and Point defence guns."

"We have more firepower than them combined. Then why would they attack us?"

"They may think we are a cargo hauler Howard. Aside from a few people, no-one here has ever seen a Battlestar. We could use this to our advantage."

The three ships closed in rapidly, eager to claim their loot. This eagerness would prove to be costly. All main gun turrets rose from their nests and rotated to face the attackers, ready to fire at a moment's notice. Vipers were intercepting the few strike craft the pirates had, while the Strike Vipers were forming up and preparing their own counter-attack. The Pirate Captains barely had the time to realise their mistake. When they were too close to run, a huge wall of fire rose up and sped towards them impacting on their Void Shields. The Corvettes started returning fire while trying to outflank the Battlestar. Some of their shots hit home, absorbed by the armor, while others bounced off the angled sections. The Havoc Raider had to close in further for it to be able to return fire. All this time the small ship had the full attention of the battlestar's entire broadside, putting significant stress on the fragile Shield generator. It would not take long for the shields to fail and the shells to start impacting the hull.

The weak armor of the raider was no match for the powerful broadside of the battlestar. Shells penetrated the outer hull and bounced around on the inside, wreaking havoc to the ships internals. A direct hit to a portside battery caused the entire compartment to erupt in a violent explosion. Everyone inside was either blown to the bulkheads or sucked into the void. Seconds later multiple shells hit the engine bay, setting the ship adrift.

Meanwhile fighters from both sides were turning round each other in a massive furball. Las-blasts were answered with Mass-Driver shells and missiles, complemented by the countless FLAK batteries firing from the Invictus. Dozen Fury Fighters fought a desperate battle, but they were completely overwhelmed by the numbers of fighters thrown at them. If they managed to shake off one pursuer, another would take his place in moments. This was emphasized with the vibrations and TAK-TAK-TAK sound of impacting shells. In a last ditch attempt to gain a kill one of the Furies broke off and burned at a ramming course with one of the vipers. At the last moment the viper shot to the side, letting the desperate fighter through. In the blind fury the fighter wandered straight into the Flak-barrier. A single FLAK shell penetrated the hull of the stricken fighter before exploding inside, shredding any and all equipment. Support-beams were broken, panels blown out and reactors breached. The explosion that resulted was larger than any colonial ever thought possible for the size of the spacecraft. Only warped chunks of wing and nose were left when the fire dissipated. The rest of the pirate fighters rested a similar fate. Fight or Flee, it didn't matter. At the end of the battle, the result would be the same.

With the Havoc out of the fight, and every Pirate fighter fighting for a minute of extra life, the Claymores were on their own. The closest one was focussed down by the Invictus herself while the other was attacked by at least 40 strike vipers. Both ships fired all their defence guns in an attempt to deflect the attack. All they did was delaying the inevitable. Invictus battered the shield bubble of its target, whittling it away. Knowing what was about to happen, the Corvette turned and burned away at flank speed. By doing so it showed the now exposed engines to its attacker. The ship did outrun Invictus, but its shells it did not. In the next moments the engine bay took heavy damage. Fires erupted out of the hull, trailing lazily out of its host.

AP shell no 3789 was just loaded in the breach of Dorsal turret 5's dual cannons. Slowly the turret adjusted its aim and fired both cannons. 3789 blasted out of the barrel, leaving a meters long muzzle flash behind. Silently ripping through the void, the rear of its target doubled in size with every split-second. With untold violence the shell ripped through the weak armor between the two corvette engines, blasting and bouncing through the engine bay it ripped cables, destroyed equipment and ruptured plasma-lines to finally impact the containment magnets of the main reactor.

Inside the stricken ship, alarms started blaring and warning lights lit up. All it did though was strike more fear into its crew. For them, it did not take long.

With the reactor's containment gone, the plasma inside ran rampant. Expanding and expanding while slowly melting through the reactor shielding. One of the rogue enginseers looked with sheer horror at the events. Once the plasma broke free, he was evaporated in an instant. He never felt what hit him.

The plasma raged towards filled capacitors. The result of the two in contact was spectacular. First the engines flickered and extinguished. Seconds later the engine bay exploded violently, the fire engulfing the entire ship. The only thing to emerge was the ship's armored prow, blasted away by the explosion. The Prow drifted away for a few seconds, only to impact a nearby asteroid.

The remaining corvette suffered a similar fate at the hands of the Strike Vipers. It too suffered an explosive reactor breach. Any strike craft with anti-ship ordnance left fired it at the drifting Havoc, ending the engagement. All of this took just under 20 minutes.

"Ok gentlemen, lets wrap this up, we've wasted enough time here. XO, recover fighters. Jump Prep!"

The orders were barely given or the crew had already started carrying them out. Within minutes the last fighter was aboard.

"FTL?" - "Go!"

"Sublight?" - "Go!"

A jump? Already? The commander truly is a hardass to risk Warp Jumps this early! The Imperial Lieutenant didn't like this one bit. Although he tried, he could not hide his nervous and terrified emotions. To say that Warp Travel is dangerous would be a tremendous understatement! Not to mention he hadn't seen any sign of a navigator aboard! "Emperor save us" he thought and started mumbling a prayer in High Gothic: "Deus omnium Imperator, ut salvet nos de periculis inane..."

"Engineering?" - "Go!"

"Flight Pods?" - "Go!"

"Commander Price, the board is green. Ship reports ready for jump sir!"

"Very well, start the clock!"

The Jump operator at his station inserted the Jump Key in the console and started a countdown.

"10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5"

"Deus omnium Imperator, ut salvet nos de periculis inane. Deus omnium Imperator, ut salvet nos de periculis inane..."

"3, 2, 1, Jump!"

The moment the operator turned the key, Goradin felt an intense nausea rise to his throat. The walls seemed to come at him while he felt as if he was shrinking. On the outside one could see the engines die out just before a bright flash traveled from the bow to stern. After that the ship was gone, like it was never there. All of this happened within a fraction of a second.