I'm walking from the front to the back of the bridge. Turning my eyes to the viewport, I cant help but gaze at the nameplate running from left to right;
UFS EISENHOWER
And she's mine, all mine.
My attention is quickly snapped to the viewport as some form of fighter exploded directly ahead of the Eisenhower. I stride up to the holographic war map, glowing green, red and blue, which stands at the center of the bridge. Several high-ranking officers surround the map. Looking down, I can see the images of the Federation vessels advancing on those of the Aurorans.
"Zoom in"
Currently, two flights of Anacondas are engaging one of the Auroran Cruisers acting as Vanguard. Missles away, boys. Pinprick explosions appear as the munitions discharge against the cruisers shields. Breaking through, lasers begin to mar the surface of the ship. One well-aimed shot of...something..impacts near the engines, spewing flame. Quick-moving Auroran fighters are now engaged, as the Anaconda fighter representations begin to blink out, corresponding with faint thuds at the end of my hearing range. This rate of blinking out begins a dramatically sharp increase-
::Whats that noise?::
"Admiral, look!"
Viewports, and all I can see is a blindingly white light. All I can hear is the klaxon
::Klaxon::
The only reason I can wake up is because Markochech is shaking me.
"God damnit, Kyle, dont you hear the alarm?"
One look is all she needs to back off. I roll off the spartan federation-issue ship cot and walk toward the bridge. I told First office Whittier to get out of my chair, and quickly took position at the helm. Quickly, I checked the messages that would accompany this freaking-
"Would somebody PLEASE shut off that alarm?"
Okay. Here we go
ATTN: UFS Customs PT Boat GY575
Suspected smuggling operation in progress. Ground Customs Enforcement agents require air support.
Requesting assistance ASAP in Nesre City Spaceport, Pad 34.
"This is what I love about this job, people, it's the emotional connections. Lets get to it. Code yellow. Markochech, bring us down"
I sat back in the chair as Nav Officer Markochech set the speed and course, bringing us down through the New Babylon atmosphere. I tried to remember what that dream was about, coming out with only an odd feeling.We quickly dropped through the upper atmosphere and cloud ceiling. To my joy, we crossed onto the dark side of the planet. I love making busts at night, it always seems so much more..dramatic.
Dropping down to a few hundred feet, now, the mass expanse and lights of Nesre City comes into view. Markochech veers us off to the left, towards the spaceport. Screeching over the ground, I imagine that I can begin to make out the lights of ground forces converging on one pad in particular.
"Markochech, you see that?"
"I do, sir"
"Then slow the hell down, bring us into a hover over that pad"
I switched on the intercom.
"Smith, status."
"Lasers warming up, rockets loaded."
"Thank you"
The primary engines began to slow to a halt, and the hover engines whined to life. Within moments we corssed the border into the spaceport.
"Communications, contact both Customs and Nesre City Spaceport, alert them to our arrival."
"Consider it done"
We were now encroaching onto landing pad 34. Quickly, I switched on the searchlights of the Patrol Boat. After a few seconds I could make out the distinct shape of an IDA Frigate, with perhaps a dozen bodies, now scattering, around the hull. The ground agents were closing in, but were still about a minute and a half away. Unfortunately, I could already see the engines on the Frigate glowing to life.
"Whittier, what's the ID?"
"Old Earth,Inc. IDA Frigate 211: Designation "Red Sky" Carrying 85 tons of FATE"
"FATE? Whooee! These guys are scerewed!"
I switched on the external loudspeaker, while hailing directly into the frigate bridge.
"Attention IDA Frigate 211, Designation "Red Sky". This is Captain O'Connor of the Federation Customs Patrol. Your attempt to smuggle illegal narcotics has been detected. Power down your vessel, step onto the landing platform, and await the arrival of customs agents. Repeat, IDA Frigate 211, designation "Red Sky" you are breaking planetary and interstellar law. Give up now, and await the arrival of customs-
The intercom crackled
"Sir, they've locked on to us!"
"Evasive, Now! open fire!"
Markochech lurched the ship forward, then to the left. Too late, as the ship lurched from some heavy weapon blast. I could hear our Quad laser turret opening fire. Markochech turned the ship about, as the IDA frigate was blasting off and up towards space, all turrets blazing fire in our direction. I flicked the intercom on.
"Communications! Send out a call for Federation assistance"
"Will do, Sir"
"Markochech, engage in chase pattern, Smith! open up fore blasters and light cannons. Whittier, damage"
"Sir! Shields at 76%, falling, Frigate stands at shields 88% , falling"
The boat fell in behind the frigate, blasting away at the shields. As the pair rose into the atmosphere, the frigate dissapered into the dense cloud ceiling, laser bolts quickly lighting up the puffy mass. Suddenly the boat was engulfed, and as quickly they were clear, still chasing the smugglers.
"Commnications, Sir, Two fed vipers and one destroyer have aknowledged, and are on an intercept."
"Whittier!"
"Our shields holding steady at 55%, the Frigate is down to 68%"
"Smith, fire off a round of Ravens"
"Done."
Quicker than the eye, a dozen silver streaks fell from the bottom of the patrol boat and streaked towards the
Frigate, pounding into the shield.
"Whittier!"
"He's down to 30%, sir."
As the atmoshpere quickly dropped back to reveal the black, starry void of space, I could quickly make out the tiny shape of the intercepting destroyer breaking orbit from Georgia. Those vipers were still hidden from view, however, probably on the opposite end of New Babylon.
The intercom crackled
"Sir, the Frigate is letting loose rockets. Radar, too"
"Jam them, Smith!"
Already I could see the rockets dropping, then screaming ahead, wheeling around to race towards the boat. two, four, six, seven rockets in all.
One rocket veered off course, and then another. No more, though.
"Activate Point Defense! Evasive!"
The quad turret took it's focus off the Frigate, and began blasting at the incoming rockets. One fell, two, but no more.
"Brace for impact!"
The boat shook violently as three discernable impacts rocked the ship. The cabin lights flickered for a moment, then recovered.
"Shields down, sir!"
Whittier reported as the red alarm began to blare on the bridge.
"Maintain course, open fire with remaining Ravens"
Waves of silver streaks blasted into the shields, and finally reached beyond, plowing into the engineering section, causing a good deal of havoc. This would be no cakewalk, as I could hear metal rending as turret blasts slowly teared my boat to shreds.
"Looks like you could use some help, Captain."
Suddenly the Frigate came under fire from both sides as the Vipers arrived on scene. Sparks and flames started shooting out in jets where the Vipers struck true. Within a minute, the engines on the IDA began to dim and come to a standstill. Lights began to dim and peter out all over the ship, which itself began to list aimlessly through space. It was quite a sight to see that hulk rolling through space, an occaisonal jet of flame shooting out.
"Whittier, report."
"Hull integrity is at a minimum, sir"
"Thats it. Break off, Markochech."
"Thanks for your assist, Vipers, make sure not to damage that too badly. Customs'll be coming soon to tow it back to New Babylon."
"Understood, Customs, we'll keep guard. Go get yourselves patched up."
I switched off the comm, and slumped down in my seat.
"Bring us home, Markochech. Great job, everyone. Thank God we're alive."
I switched off the intercom, and silenced any protestations from Whittier or Markochech with a glance. This is my boat, and I'll run it as I want.
To be continued.
:Where's the rest of the crew? You talked about four people on ship with a ten man crew. Why's an admiral in command of a PT boat?