CAP, What Just Happened?
Posted on Fri 18th May, 2018 @ 1:58am by Lieutenant Damion Ildaran & Lieutenant JG Kellian Michaels
898 words; about a 4 minute read
Mission:
Brushfires
Location: Space
Timeline: MD13, 1254
Previously:
Mustang remembered Control! Crap. "Control, this is Lancelot-13. We, uhmm. We made contact with a Romulan raider class. We were fired upon and we fired back. The Romulan-built Vimkar and three Scorpions were all destroyed. I am running diagnostic scans now. My Raptor is showing no damage, and I can complete my patrol."
"Lancelot-14, here. I am also showing no problems, and I am good to continue patrol."
"Negative," Control responded. "Repeat, that is negative. Your presence and report are commanded on 109 as soon as possible. Another patrol is being sent to relieve you. Report soonest."
"Control? We cannot recover till relieved. The next patrol does not launch for a while yet. We should at least search for survivors. I mean we should, shouldn't we?" Lancelot-13 was still processing what happened, but his protocol training said you did not end a patrol till relieved.
"Negative, Lancelot-13. Patrols are already launching, and you are to head back immediately." The voice had changed, and it brooked no argument.
Beck and Nordstrom, in the Arrow parked in the shadow of 109's ring section, exchanged glances. "That was pretty intense," Beck said at last. "Did you get it all on logs?"
"I did," Helena responded. "I'm still absorbing the ... the speed, I guess, of that interaction."
Beck nodded. She hadn't been there and wouldn't second-guess the men who had, but she still wondered if destroying the main vehicle was necessary. Of course ... it was a pirate ship. That was evident by their response to being discovered. An old Romulan ship wouldn't be sending interceptors if their intentions were peaceful. She shook her head, "Helena, we were just attacked by pirates. Pirates attacking a station of this size! What were they thinking?"
Nordstorm shrugged. "That they could win?"
The technician who had previously manned control was back in his seat. He realized the pirate interaction was far above his pay grade. He immediately contacted every security, intelligence and Marine officer he could find on the manifest. Better too many than too few, he thought.
"Encryption, this is AWACS control. If you've decoded that message, I believe you'll want to be in the hangar when Lancelot 13 and Lancelot 14 arrive. That's with the transcription, of course," the petty officer said. His suggestion was informal both because he spoke to an ensign and because that particular ensign on duty this morning was a friend of his.
"Got it right here, and it's a corker. I'll be up as soon as I copy the file. Thanks," the ensign responded.
On the BlackKnight's flight deck, Ector-43 was the alert-5 fighter, and events had moved so rapidly, he had not even launched. He was sealed up and ready, but no order had been given. Gunny Harris called the squadron leader.
MacBain was still in his office, having flown the first patrol of the morning. "Captain, Mustang and Cowboy just engaged a raider, sir. They are ordered back to the barn to report, but the next flight has not reported in yet." Harris was unsure of what to do, since everything had happened so fast.
"On my way, Gunny. Prep my fighter for launch, and hold Echo-43. I will launch with him."
Ranulf called up the replay of the mission recording as he jumped back into his flight suit. "Damn." They had dealt with an enemy in short order! By the time he was on the flight deck, his Raptor was being towed into launch position.
Ranulf climbed aboard and ordered, "Gunny, call in Aban-21 and Aban-22. Tell them to be ready to launch as soon as possible." Ranulf waved the Gunny away as he did a rushed pre-flight. "Deck control, Lancelot-11 and Ector-43 ready to launch."
As soon as he got the green light, MacBain lifted off the deck. "Take it easy, Ector-43. We are professionals, so let's behave as such." Lancelot-11 left the bay with a steady, smooth acceleration, Ector-43 left the bay slightly ahead.
"Form on my starboard wing, Ector-43. Loose deuce and leave us some room. I prefer a wider formation." Wolfman, Ranulf's call sign, banked into a turn once clear of the base and flew toward the scene of the crime. He met the two returning fighters halfway there.
"Lancelot-13, Lancelot-14, you are relieved. Control, this is Lancelot-11 and Ector-43 taking back the watch. Anything you can tell me, Control?" Ranulf was still trying to process what he had seen, it was so sudden, so fast as to defy description.
"Sweep the area for wreckage, even the possibility of survivors in escape pods," Control responded. It was protocol, but it needed to be said for the log record. "If there's anything that will give information about who was in that ship, Command wants it."
Captain Beck was itching to take her Arrow out into the debris field, and she imagined everyone on board with her felt the same way.
"Captain, I've searched all communications traffic from the doomed ship. There were no outgoing messages in the hour before the attack. It must have been on blackout, only open to receive one message and then planning an exit," the warrant officer informed Rachel.
"Good initiative, Nordstrom. Someone in-hull may have done the same, but confirmation is important." She turned her chair slightly and half-smiled at her assistant. "But really? Doomed?"
Helena shrugged, "They didn't know it, but yeah, doomed."
RSS Feed