Valerie's Switchblade rolled into Discovery's combat hanger from the flight deck airlock, its composite nose cone crumpled, scorched from the near-miss of the missile, and the dozens of pot marks and minor holes in the fighter's armor. Flanked on either side are Kimberly and Jonathan's fighters fairing only slightly better from their combat scars. The three battered fighter craft rolled to a stop on the two large elevators and were lowered into the large main hangar and were descended upon by hangar crew and low-profile tugs. As the fighters were moved to their respected pit-bay's the maintenance crew stood on either side of the lane in stiff salute as they display their respect for them and the pilot who never returned.
Valerie looks out her canopy in numb shock as tears stream down her face silently. As the fighter came to a stop she moved on auto pilot, silently shutting down her spacecraft, regaining her composure with each command, and once done she took a deep breath and opened her cockpit. "Aa-ten-hut!" the Chief of the Deck announced, and the crew saluted, "Welcome home ma'am." He said and as she looked at him and then the rest of the crew, she felt strangely comforted by the display of respect and honor from these men and women whom she never known and who have never known Henry, but they recognized her loss and gave her the honor and respect as if they were one of their own. 'Uncle Nolan found a fine crew', she thought before looking back to the Chief, "Thank you, chief?"
He stiffened, "Petrov ma'am. Master Chief Daniel Petrov, I'm the Chief of The Deck on Discovery, and if you need anything let me know ma'am." She nodded and returned his salute, "I'll do that Chief." She stood and tucked her helmet under her arm as she stepped onto the ladder that appeared without her notice, and descended onto the deck. The crew began work on the fighter trio with practiced precision, hastened by the orders of Chief Petrov. Kimberly came up to her, with moistened eyes, and if makeup was allowed, would be running in streaks, "Valkyrie, I'm so sorry." She said fighting back sobs, the four of them trained for over a year together, and they were to be the kernel, leaders of the first four squadrons of the 1st Aerospace Fighter Wing, they were closer than siblings, and in her situation lover to Henry. Although romantic relationships were strictly regulated and outright banned within units, the unique situation of forming the first and only fighter wing in an equally unprecedented and relatively new military branch, the brass let her involvement pass since the four would never be actually deployed in the same squadron and therefore not under either's chain of command.
She thought the sanctioning of her relationship was a victory, but the suffocating pain in her chest told her the reality of having such relationships in the military, and as Jonathan joined Kimberly beside her with a sorrowful hollowness in his eyes. She stared at her squad mates forcing composure, 'It was my choice, so I got to deal with the consequences', she thought as she put on a mask of steel resolve for her squad. "Dragon, Kaze, see to your post-flight checks. Debrief is in a hour!" she ordered, as her squad snapped to attention and gave the best "Aye ma'am" they could muster before turning back to their fighters for post-flight checks. She looked back at her fighter, the nose crumpled, its armor scorched and holed, and amidst her pit-crew removing panels and checking components she placed her hand on the cold metal of her fighter wistfully, Sorry girl, I'll do better next time, she thought.
***
James Nolan sat at his office desk in his darkened ready room, damage and casualty reports floated holographically in front of him, faces of men and women injured and those dead. 'Damn, so much destruction, and for what? Fun? Politics? Frak him, the bastard Marduk will pay!' He thought darkly. The door chimed, "Come in!" he said a tad more angrily then he had intended, but Commander Halsy came in unfazed. The older blue navy officer has seen his share of death in the Terror Wars as well and fully understood his Captain's mood, "I got Engineering making repairs so we can ship off back to Olympus and Chief Petrov has the fighters settled and his crew on their repairs, which he has informed me is fairly minor hull damage and has their fabricators making replacement hull plates." James lend back in his plush chair, "Good, command says they're have the greenies back at Edwards ready when we return." Halsy nods, "Good, it'll keep her occupied. I'll draw up some training time for them." James sighed, "How's she doing?" Halsy sat down in one of the guest chairs in front of the captain's desk and also sighed, "Bad, she'll never admit it, but I see it in her eyes, the hollowness. You never forget it." James sighed, "No, you never do, I'll pay her a visit after med bay." James replied, understanding all too well.
***
Repair crews work behind Valerie as she sits on a tug-cart, helmet in her hands and tears rolling down her cheeks. James enters the main hangar and sits beside her, "He was a brave man." James said as he placed a hand on her shoulder, "You did everything you could." Valerie grips tighter to her helmet, "With all due respect sir. The evidence shows otherwise." James frowns, "How so colonel?" She looks fiercely into his eyes, "I followed a four-o-nine into the refinery, and in doing so damaged my missile radar systems. I let my emotions compromise my judgment!" James looks at her with a stern look, taking his hand from her shoulder, "Your actions saved more than a thousand people in that refinery." Valerie averted her eyes, her mouth opened as if to say something but couldn't, "And yes it was at a terrible cost. But that cost also serves a purpose." He continued, she looked back at him, fighting back tears and her emotions. James sighed, "To learn from our mistakes and actions so as not to repeat it next time. You're still one of the best fighter pilots I have ever served with." He rose and Valerie followed his gaze, "The service is at thirteen-hundred." He turned and looked into her eyes, "Then I want you and your pilots to report for duty at eighteen-hundred. We're going to get them for this." He said with determination, "Yes sir." she said with more conviction. He gave a nod and walked out of the hanger leaving her speechless.
***
Fifteen coffins were in the combat hanger, each one is mounted onto a rail. The hangar doors are open, the plasma shield hums behind them and tints the Earth and open space behind it with blue. All of the coffins have a picture of the deceased and are draped with American flags, except one. The picture in front of the bare coffin was of Mr. Cromwell. The ship's Chaplain stood behind a simple stainless-steel pulpit with the ship's seal laser etched on the front. The crew stood at-ease in parade fashion and family members of the decease sat in chairs in front. "Today we gather to remember the service, and sacrifice of fifteen men and women. Everyone served without remorse, without caring for themselves. A sacrifice few would give." Valerie, Patrick, and Kimberly stood at full attention with Captain Nolan and Leanne beside them just behind the families, "They were fathers, mothers, siblings, friends. We remember and we honor them as we move forward. Now I'll let Captain James Nolan say a few words. Captain." he said motioning to James who nodded and walked to the podium, he turns to the coffins, and then to the mourners. "When I woke up yesterday, I never dreamed I'll stand here today. Never imagined I'll see fifteen friends for the last time.
"You may be wondering why I insisted on honoring Victor Cromwell beside soldiers and pilots. He saved my family's life, not to long ago. While I was on my honeymoon we had a stop on his station. My wife was mugged, I fought him of course but was shot in the leg." He gave a wistful chuckle, "Mr. Cromwell came running after him with a shotgun, then… Well he fought as bravely for those in his station as those men and women did for their country." His expression changed to one of steel and determination, "I swear to those here and those who aren't here, morning for love ones who did nothing but give a life to their families, and peace to their homes. I will find the ones who did this! And WILL make them pay for their crimes." He looked to the marine guards who marched, four to each coffin and Master Sergeant Hayes gave a salute, "Aa-ten-hut!" he announced and the all the crew in the hanger came to full attention and saluted as the marines held each corner of the flags draped on the coffins as they began to move on the rails and six marines lined up with ceremonial rifles, "Pree-sent Arms!" Hayes ordered, and the marines brought the chromed rifles to their shoulder aimed up wards. "Fire!" The hanger echoed with the sound of the blank rounds, "Fire!" The coffins moved at a slow steady pace, "Fire!" The marines began folding the flag with meticulous precision, "Fire!" The families twitched slightly at the sound of the shots, "Fire!" The coffins fly free of the rail and coast silently into space as the sun glinted off the polished surface, "Fire!" The marines finish folding the flags, "About face!" The marines turn to the crowd as one marine from each coffin presents each family the flag, "Salute!" As one the marines salute.
***
Captain Nolan paced in his ready room as the he waited for word from SOLCOMM, after the memorial Admiral Halsey's aid sent a message that the Admiral will give him new orders about ten minutes ago, and he was getting nervous. There has been a lot of political pressure lately against an independent American military force in space, the Europeans, newly formed Islamic Meccan Caliphate and Russians pushing a global military command, however China, England, and Israel have already been building the foundations of their own interplanetary military industrial programs and Congress as well as the Senate felt it most prudent to establish an American dominance of space. The push was a fortunate one for the country, the massive push of private industry and especially lunar and asteroid mining operations generously filled the country with new capital. Lining the proverbial streets with gold from the Interplanetary Gold Rush, as the media began calling it, which ruffled the feathers of countries who profited on the status quo.
This democratization of space hit the Europeans and Russians the hardest, since their space programs were still tightly controlled by their governments, and in regard with the EU specifically, kept them financially afloat, and Russia lost any leverage on the United States once SpaceX and ULA began weekly flights to the aging ISS and fledgling Lunar Complex in the mid and late 21st century. The fad of commercial space became the next industrial frontier leaving those emerging and reemerging manufacturing superpowers to die on the vine as industry fled the planet along with the suffocating environmental regulations and prohibitive taxes. Who cares about CO2 emissions on Mars? On that frosty and barren world, it's actually adventitious to raise the ambient temperature. And since Mars is considered universally claimed for humanity by treaty, profit shares are negotiated with sponsoring nations based on market value and risk. An arrangement that left both parties pleased, the government gets a small percentage and in return supply generous low interest loans to get the company established, with old glory predominately displayed as often as possible of course. By Nolan's time the increasingly irrelevant nations began to grow bitter, causing a re-emergence of state sponsored terrorism, both on Earth and in space, and in many ways it's easier to destroy things in space then on Earth. Fit a nickel/iron asteroid with a dozen ICBM rocket motors aim it at your target and light the fuse. Or more often than not, a single pound of C4 and someone crazy or indoctrinated enough to blow themselves up.
That's where the bastard Marduk Hussein got his start, trained in Moscow, and sponsored by the Meccan Islamic Caliphate, his ban of part pirate and part terrorist cell, began a campaign of costly and deadly destruction. Striking at first on terrestrial based sites like corporate buildings, launch platforms, and assembly plants feeding the various space ventures. Once special forces and American Naval power thoroughly dismantled their operations he shifted to various interplanetary bases scattered around Sol. His first attack was to use the before mentioned asteroid and smash it into the ISS. Being immobile the aging construct was itself rapidly becoming irrelevant as well, but was still serviced well beyond it's designed life, and was still crewed by twelve astronauts running expensive research experiments. However, it was the debris that cause the greatest damage, several large chunks slammed into Detroit, Paris, Munich, Bejing and off the coast of Japan. The fires and tsunamis caused trillions of dollars in damage and the lives of more than 200,000 people and thousands more from the temporary, but devastatingly cold winter. The response was swift.
Security by the corporations has always been tight on Earth, but after the October Strike, it was thoroughly examined and reinforced with military troops, both on Earth sites as well as sponsored colonies and stations. The new space arms race began, space-based terrorism became forefront in the public mindset, and to appease the traumatized public the Congress and Senate passed the Spacecraft Defense and Militarization Act, with heated scorn by the EU, Russia, and China. England, Israel, Japan, and France however quickly enacted their own variation of SDMA legislation shortly after the United States which granted the use of armed security or military personnel to secure spacecraft, stations, and colonies. Allowed the design, manufacture, and private sale of space-based weaponry and extended the 2nd Amendment to US sponsored colonies and stations as well as self-defense use of weaponry mounted on spacecraft and stations at any time. The SDMA also authorized the establishment of what became the United States Space Force's Black Navy, which merged personnel from every other branch. The reorganization of the armed forces was a stressful time, and compounded by very high cost to taxpayers. Before the government was content to cash in on commercial space indirectly with sponsorship loans now they had to fit the bill for a squadron of black navy warships, shuttles, fighters, and the vital infrastructure needed to construct, deploy, as well as retrain thousands of military personnel and finance the largest recruiting drive since world war two.
This latest attack just again drove the point home, warfare is here to stay in space, and Nolan is chopping at the bit to be its spearhead. The problem, of course, is with the bureaucracy. Weather they keep him chained to Earth or let him loose to wreak some revenge. The ace in his favor of course was the sizable press contingent currently aboard his ship, of which he used to full advantage before he was ordered to clamp his trap on the whole thing, which of course was meaningless. By the time the orders filtered down and transmitted from Earth, nearly 12 hours passed and the voice recordings, optical sensor feeds, and lengthy interviews he subjected himself too has been playing constantly on interplanetary and Earth nets.
Now he awaits his fate as he paced the deck of his ready-room. His console beeped, he quickly sat at his desk and straightened his uniform before he tapped the blinking icon on his main holo-display. The bridge comms officer appeared in a hovering window in front of him, "Message from SOLCOMM sir."
"Right, put it through here ensign." He replied and the ensign gave a yes sir and the display changed to Admiral Nelson sitting at his desk at Olympus Station, "James I got news from the Pentagon." Nolan nodded, "yes, sir"
Nelson stared stone faced directly at the hidden camera, giving the effect of staring directly into Nolan's eyes. It always unnerved him and he made a conscious effort not to squirm. "While they aren't particularly pleased that the press informed the President before they could, which I might add, I also shared in the President's displeasure. It's been decided, by lack of other options, that you are tasked to take Discovery back to Olympus, kit her up for war, pursue the Red Crescent Pirates, and obliterate them." At the last part the Admiral cracked a smirk, "Yes sir, thank you sir." Nolan replied with a smile, "Don't be a smart-ass Captain,"
"Of course, not Admiral," Nolan said seriously, "Don't let it go to your head James, the brass had a major hissy fit with the stunt you pulled, they don't like perky reporters to spin events before they can. You came out as the hero and naturally it's the brave hero's job to smash the villain's head in. Despite your violation of a dozen regulations, any one of which would've stripped you of command of a warship, am I clear Captain?" Nelson's tone left little to debate, he did take a big risk with his career, and it sobered his mood, "Crystal sir."
"Good, I'll expect you back home by the end of the day and the detailed copy of your orders arrived with this link. See to your ship Captain." Nolan saluted, "Aye sir." Nelson nodded and cut the connection.
***
Discovery's engineering section was a hive of activity as a nervous crewman carefully scanned his surroundings before opening a panel with a high voltage warning and went to work on the circuitry inside. He took a cylindrical tool from his belt at went to work on the panel. A few minutes later he put the tool back onto his belt and replaced the panel before checking nervously around and headed out of engineering.
***
Discovery eased back into her dry-dock with dozens of construction mechs and automated drones buzzing carefully around her hull. Nolan stood on the bridge as Bennett eased Discovery into berth on Olympus. He felt the slight shudder as the clamps arrested the big ship's drift before turning to Bennett, "Excellent work Lieutenant." Bennett grinned, "thank you sir." Nolan shared a smile, "Commander, I have a meeting with the Admiral. See to the ship." Halsy saluted, "Aye sir." Nolan returned the salute, "You have the ship" Nolan said for protocol, and Halsy repeated the order, also per protocol and Nolan left the bridge. James was serious as he walked the halls, he has a mission and the most advanced, and only, ship at his command and he will not lose. Marduk is Hitler, Mao, and Stalin combined into the most hated man in the free system. Despite the known links to the IC, they get off on technicalities in the worthless UN sessions, he can imagine the smug faces of the Caliphate leadership as the brainwashed masses cheer at the plight of the infidels on the lunar station. World sympathy for Islam is practically extinct back on Earth, replaced by anger and fear, James knows that not all Muslims strap bombs to their children's chest and send them to school, but as the world sees the masses in the middle east cheer the deaths of so many innocence in the name of Allah time and time again, not even political correctness can justify the senseless murders any longer. The only thing that stops the US and the other sane nations is the vast nuclear arsenal stolen from the Russians and Chinese in the later half of the Terror Wars.
Now it's James' chance to strike at that monster and stop his reign of murder once and for all, and once he announced his orders to his crew they cheered, even now the men and women under his command move with purpose. His orders also included a mandate, to find irrefutable evidence linking the Meccan Islamic Caliphate to the Red Crescent Pirates, ideally evidence of IC military command providing orders or intelligence for committed or planned attacks. It's hoped that such evidence would be enough to justify a multi national strike to end the hated nation once and for all, wiping it's stain on humanity clean for future generations. James is not so naïve as to think it'll end Islamic terrorism, too many Muslims are treated like pariahs to end it completely, but at least there wouldn't be a fraking nuclear armed nation fanning the extremist flames smack dab in the middle the most tense region on Earth. As Nolan passed through the transit tube into the station a dozen of nearly too young men and women in distinctive, part overalls, part spacesuit called ship suits, were in the process of being dressed down by Valerie. The 'greenies' from Edwards, Nolan mused.
***
"Alright greenies, a-ten-hut!" Valerie barked as the dozen young airmen snapped to regulation attention, God they're young, Valerie thought. Which is ironic since she is only 30 herself. "SOLCOMM in their infinite wisdom, has stuck me with you lot. So instead of shore leave I have the misfortune to attempt to get every one of you ready for our mission." She walked the line of the fresh minted pilots, staring down each one, gauging their reaction to her scrutiny. None appeared to be flustered, which isn't very surprising, everyone in the SF fighter program were experienced pilots in the top 5% from their respective service. Most of this lot flew combat sorties in F-22Fs or F-35Gs. However flying in atmosphere is far different than piloting in space, the rules of physics and timing are unique. The mantra of 'Speed Kills' takes a whole new meaning when you're coasting at percentages of light, than multiples of mach. "Each one of you are capable pilots, but in the wild black that means nothing, you have to earn one of my Switchblades. Is that clear!"
"Aye ma'am!", they shouted in unison. She walked back to the front, "Since Discovery is unable to receive my fighters during refit, your miserable lives will be lived inside my simulators. You'll be assigned a squadron leader to be trained in deep space combat tactics and formations. Learn from them, they have all survived actual space combat and you haven't! Once they, and I, are satisfied in your performance you'll became Plank Holders in the first three new squadrons of the First Aerospace Fighter Wing. Then, and only then, will you get your gold wings, clear!", they all stood a bit straighter as they shouted, "Aye, ma'am!" She scanned the eager faces of her new pilots, "You'll assemble in the Mission Briefing Room at 14:30 hours, this is your only notice, if you're late you'll be docked a point for every minute. You have 20 points, your performance and adherence to procedure gains, or docks you points. Reach zero and you'll be rotated back to Edwards and the next greenie in line will get your slot!" She glanced at each of them, "Dismissed!" she ordered and they quickly grabbed their shore bags, and sprinted past her boarding Discovery. She looked at her watch, 14:05 hours, she smirked and leisurely walked toward Discovery's transit hatch. Let the games begin, she mused.
***
James entered Admiral Nelson's office and was greeted by his secretary, "Afternoon Captain, the Admiral is expecting you." James thanked her and walked up to the door to Nelson's office, which opened as he approached, and walked through. The office was spartan, with a few shelves on the off-white composite bulkheads, with some actual books and some 3D printed resin models of Olympus Station and some of the aircraft Nolan assumed he has flown. The Admiral sat behind an ornate hardwood desk stained a dark cherry color, vastly expensive to transport up to orbit, even with EM-Drives and Single-Stage-To-Orbit craft. Perks of rank, and it does give some warmth to the space made of plastics, metal, and composites. James stood at attention and held a salute with a curt 'sir', but the Admiral appeared engrossed into a report on his pad, which from his experience as a command officer is highly unlikely. It was a clear sign of displeasure toward a subordinate officer, even knowing this fact James held his increasingly uncomfortable stance, regulations and courtesy demanded it until the Admiral saluted in acknowledgment.
After a few minutes Nelson calmly placed his pad on his desk and lend casually back in his plush chair, "At ease Captain" Nolan shifted into the slightly more comfortable posture, "Thank you sir." The admiral eyes him impassively, "well Captain, what do you have to say?" Nelson stated calmly, James stiffened, "I felt it important to present a public narrative in our favor before the IC sir."
"Bullshit. I've played this game far longer than you Captain and for far higher stakes. You want to hit them, or more specifically, hit him." the admiral stood to face James, who remained silent as Nelson continued, "You needed the whole damned civilized system to send you, the hero of Lunar Station, to smash Marduk and his ilk's collective faces in, and you played a dangerous card to do it." Nelson paused and started to pace around Nolan, "The press are fickle allies Captain," Nelson continued, "You're the hero one moment and a baby killer the next. You got your wish Captain, but I have concerns, concerns that put your mental state into question." Nelson walked in front of James and looked the younger man's eyes with purpose. "Sir, I can assure you that I am thinking clearly." Nolan said firmly but Nelson still bore his gaze into the thoroughly uncomfortable Captain. "Are you James? I know you have unpleasant history with Marduk. He worked with your unit for 2 years as your translator in Syria before we pulled out of that hell hole. Then he tried to kill your unit and nearly succeeded. Now you're off the leash and you want payback!"
"No sir!" James said defiantly, "I only want to stop him so no one else dies because of him." Nelson studied him for a moment, "Horse shit, just keep in mind that 160 crew rely on you to keep them alive Captain." Nolan steeled his gaze, "Every moment sir."