This is the first chapter of many that either are completed, or are soon to be completed. (Hahaha, hopefully.) I am looking for all the feedback possible, whether it is positive or negative. Feel free to ask random, possibly annoying question, or leave comments. Thanks!

~Daniel

The EagleFire Squadron

By Daniel F.

Chapter 1: Unknown Sector: 0543 Hours

“Sir!” Jason Bax yelled, his voice filled with panic, “The fighters have disabled all weapons! We're defenseless!”

Commander Eric Rodgers swiveled in his chair, meeting the weapons officer’s expression with calmness. He had been in this situation before; there was no need to panic. That was the first rule to a space battle, never panic. After all, panicking led to mistakes, and even the slightest of mistake on the battlefield could cost the lives of many people.

“Alright,” Commander Rodgers replied, spinning his chair around towards the tactical officer. “What is the status on our launch bays?”

“Both are operational, sir,” the tactical officer gave a quick nod and then attempted to turn away.

“What?” Commander Rodgers was dumbfounded. “Collins!” He addressed the tactical officer harshly, “why have we not launched our fighters?”

“I…” Collins stumbled over his words, trying to formulate a response.

“Don’t give me an excuse, boy! Launch the fighters!”

“Scramble the fighters! Scramble the fighters!”

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“All systems are a go, Alpha Three is standing by for launch confirmation,” Ryan Anderson said, his stomach in knots. This was it. Everything that he had learned throughout his years would be needed today, in this battle.

“Alright,” the launch commander said, “remember the objective: destroy all attacking fighters.”

Ryan responded with two clicks of his comlink. It was a fairly straightforward mission. The Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Zeta wings, each composed of four fighters, were tasked to defend the Corvette Tranquility, which had been under attack for the last five hours. He had thought it strange that the Corvette had not launched its fighters at first sign of battle; instead it relied on the accuracy skills of the gunners. But even more bizarre was the fact that the enemy had not destroyed the Corvette’s launch bays.

In a space battle, the bays were the first things to be attacked. It was pretty obvious, a launch bay enabled small fighters to launch, and without them, air support for a capital-class cruiser was not possible. So, for an enemy not to attack them was a big mistake.

“It is a good thing too,” Ryan muttered to himself. Tranquility had made some costly mistakes in this battle, but the enemy either not seen them, or ignored them. Why they would ignore these mistakes, he did not know, but thanks to the enemy’s lack of action, it could cost them the battle.

“Careful on your way out, Alpha Three. You have two inbound assault fighters, each at two klicks away. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Ryan flipped a switch, firing up his craft’s engines, and then scanned his instruments for one last time. It is time, He thought; show them what you’ve got!

“Releasing catapult break in five…” the launch commander began a short countdown, each number in beat with the pulse of every second. “Go!” A grinding noise underneath Ryan’s craft signaled the release of the catapult’s break, and then, as if paper on a rubber band, his fighter was slung across the lunch bay, just inches above the metal flooring.

Ryan’s eye’s rolled back into their sockets, as he was pushed back into his seat. Even in low gravity situations, pilots still felt the effects of high-speed acceleration. A Launch Catapult threw a small fighter craft from a standstill position, to a nauseating speed of over three hundred kilometers per hour in just under a second. It was such a fast speed that some pilots were known to blackout during the process.

Not that it really mattered though; the launch process was fairly simple and took little concentration. The acceleration was fast enough that the fighter craft was lifted off the ground by itself. The only problem was that, if launched directly into a space battle, a loss of consciousness could be the difference between life and death.

“Disregard the last transmission Alpha Three,” A barely audible voice came through Ryan’s comlink system, as his ship barreled down the short runway. “Three heavily armed bombers approaching at a distance of one klick. We’d recommend hitting the afterburner and pulling into a dive.”

Ryan smiled grimly. The trick was to exit the launch bay without being shot, and normally, that was a difficult task to perform. Most fighter pilots could set their shield power to the max and get by with that. But with a couple of heavily armed bombers at a short distance away, that was not an option for him. An accurately placed missile could easily rip through delicate hull of his fighter, even with full shields.

As the black space burst around his cockpit, Ryan shoved his flight-stick away from the center, pulling the craft into a basic dive. It was a simple maneuver, but it bought him a couple of seconds before the enemy could find a missile lock. It always took him a while to refocus his eyes after a launch, and a couple more seconds before he had to evade bought him that needed time to refocus.

Ryan shook his head, clearing his mind and refocusing his eyes, and then the metallic buzz sounded. Missile lock! He hit is stick forward; curving his craft back upwards, out of the dive. The missile lock warning stuttered off and Ryan breathed a quick sigh of relief. The attacking bombers were not the greatest craft, in terms of flight control, and a simple maneuver could easily shake them off a pilot’s tail.

Ryan rolled his flight-stick back to the left, and slammed the left petal down as well, causing his craft to spin counter-clockwise towards the enemy bomber. It was another basic tactic, used primarily to allow for head-to-head stand-offs. “Hah!” Ryan grinned grimly as the streaks of stars outside his canopy window came to a stuttering halt, and the enemy bomber came into view. “You don’t stand a chance.” He centered the bomber in the crosshairs of his targeting system, and, with a tap of the afterburner, he came into firing range.

The enemy tried to evade the obvious onslaught, pulling its nose up, but to no avail. As Ryan tapped the trigger, the laser bursts shot out, pelting the bomber and overloading the shield system. Without shielding, the second round of laser blasts were allowed to penetrate the fragile hull, and the bomber was no more.

Ryan slammed his stick back to the right, avoiding most of the hazardous debris that now floated aimlessly in the space, and brought up his tactical display screen. “Why is there another bomber on my tail?” Ryan questioned himself, frowning in disgust. The enemy had been making mistake, after mistake, after mistake, and yet, they were still winning the battle. He kicked the left petal in again, and pulling the stick upwards, his craft made a curl, wrapping around to face the enemy bomber.

The enemy was ready though, and the mechanical buzz of the missile lock rang in Ryan’s cockpit. He brought the flight-stick back towards his chest, but it was already too late, the bomber had launched missiles.

“Hey Three,” the voice of a comrade came through the communications system, “watch your aft, swarm-type missiles inbound.”

“Great,” Ryan muttered a response. Swarm-type missiles were the worst. Though they packed less of a punch, multiple missiles were launched at one time and they swarmed their target, hence the name. Ryan shoved the stick right, caressing the afterburner in order to gain more distance between the inbound missiles, and then rolled it back towards the center. The tactic did not work though; the missiles’ course was not disrupted.

Ryan grimaced, he had one last option: to launch a counter-measure. In theory, a counter-measure was a mechanical device used to interfere with the aspect lock of a missile. When launched from a starfighter, the device reprogrammed the aspect lock’s coordinates from the starfighter to the actual device itself. In theory. The actual percentage of missiles diverted was very low.

The missile lock warning screamed louder, signaling the approach of the missiles, and so, Ryan yanked at the flight-stick, forcing his craft into a roll, and launched a counter measure. He triggered the afterburner, and waited. A brilliant light filled up the backside of his cockpit window.

“It work—” Ryan was stopped as the radiant gold laser blasts lit up his portside shields. Not a good time to rejoice, Ryan thought, trying to juke the attacker off his tail, especially when you just foiled the pilot’s last plan.

“Can I get some help out here Alpha Wing?” Ryan asked. He had heard nothing from his wing since he entered the battlefield, not even from the leader.

“Alpha Three,” A female’s voice responded to his plea, “This is Beta One, I have you in my sights, hit your stick right and watch the enemy die.”

“It’s about time you got here!” Ryan laughed, he would recognize that voice anywhere. “Thanks sis.” He pulled his stick right, and watched his attacker explode behind him.

“Intel, what is the status on Alpha Wing?” Ryan inquired, dreading to hear the answer.

“Alpha One and Four are currently a-vehicular and Two has been destroyed, all by bombers. So, you’re on your own.”

Ryan clicked a response over the comm. regretting to have ever asked that question. It was not like he would not have found out sooner or later, but the fact that bombers had destroyed two fighters, instead of fighters, was a surprising one.

“All wings, the attacking waves have been eliminated, and Tranquility is preparing to make a jump,” the tactical officer said, his voice flowing through the entire squadron’s comlink system. “Jump time in five minutes and counting.”

Ryan relaxed in his seat, the battle was over, and it was one to be proud of because the Corvette had been successfully defended. They could return back to the ship and rest easy knowing that they had stopped the destruction of home for at least one more day. It was not a question of whether the Corvette would be destroyed or not, it was a question of when. A successful operation could only lengthen the days aboard the Corvette for a day or two, and then, a new operation would commence putting the Corvette at the same risk of destruction.

“Heads up pilots!” the tactical officer broke through the silence of the comlink. “We have a wave of fighters and a wave of bombers, inbound at seven klicks and counting.”

“Alpha, Beta, Gamma, form up on Zeta, let’s take out these ships,” The communications system became alive with the transmission of orders.

Ryan pulled the flight-stick around towards the enemy, and punched in his afterburner. “Enemy in range!” he called out as his ship’s weapons system made an aspect lock on the first enemy bomber. “Fox one and two away.”

The enemy bomber made a sloppy maneuver, but the missile kept its lock on the bomber, punching through its shields and destroying the craft.

“All pilots disengage! Return to Tranquility! We are ready to jump. I repeat, all pilots return to base!”

I've actually decided to clutter the forum with shards of my story, just so it keeps the chapter and the critiques together.