Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
April 7th, Gregorian Calendar
"As expected, we've routed them. Both the Battleship and the other Destroyer escaped, but the latter was damaged virtually beyond combat effectiveness. They can't communicate with each other, or naval command, without giving away their positions."
Mr. Utah crossed his arms, and raised an eyebrow. He leaned into the communication screen, and the tone of his voice dropped slightly.
"Your objective was to destroy the enemy completely. If they leave the combat zone in order to communicate with the nearest reinforcements---"
Minos waved a hand absently, and shook his head.
"We deployed a mine barrier. They can't leave the region without destroying themselves. At least, not easily. If they opt to run, it will take them far longer to find a safe exit route than it will take you to finish your work. Assuming your last five hour estimate was correct."
Mr. Utah glowered, and his eyes narrowed sharply.
"That was not part of our strategic agreement. I do not respond well when subordinates withhold information from me."
Minos snorted, and pulled away from his side of the communications line, bringing a small portion of Agincourt's bridge into focus.
"I'm not your subordinate. And let's get something straight; You may have put up those railgun emplacements, but you require the exemption frequencies to *my* ECM blanket to even hit the broad side of a barn. My mines on the other hand, require no such leave from you. And that pretty little tuna can sub of yours wouldn't last thirty seconds against them."
Mr. Utah's face remained seemingly impassive, but muscles around his mouth and eyes contracted in subtle ways nonetheless. The result was a hardened, dangerous expression. The tone of his voice changed in similar ways as he enunciated each word carefully.
"I don't need your exemption frequencies. I just need one small excuse to pull the trigger first. As far as I'm concerned, that makes you my subordinate. Now do your job."
Mr. Utah cut the channel with an emphatic flick of his right index finger, before turning to survey the progress of his work teams. The platform was abuzz with work crews. The air was filled with the sound of power tools, and sparks from a dozen welding aparati.
Four of the six cylindrical inverter devices were in place. The platform's maintenance crane was already in the process of raising the fifth into a pre-fitting position. At ten meter intervals groups of augments, each four strong, stood watch.
Further away down the length of the platform's central disc, uniformed gun crews saw to the L-RAC emplacements, eyes peeled for any sign of hostility from the remaining enemy ships, or the Agincourt.
Mr. Utah pulled his last pack of cigarettes from his inner jacket pocket, and fiddled momentarily with his lighter. As the first of his nicotine sticks caught, he shook his head and took a series of swift strides towards the nearest work crew.
"Progress report!"
"So... We're not going to talk about the fact that you're wearing one of Neyla's feathers in your crest now?"
Skye smirked as she delivered the words with a probing, devil-may-care tone. Fyrenn shook his head absently as he stared into the holotank, his mind firmly fixed on other matters.
"No. Not really. If we survive this, though, you can pester *her* about it. Honestly, you're picking up some of Stan's bad habits."
The Unicorn snorted, and shrugged, crossing her front hooves over the lip of the display tank, and staring at the mess of symbols and cartographic lines shimmering in the air above her muzzle.
"Ehhh... Well... He grows on you. As much as I hate to admit it."
After a moment of silence, she nuzzled the hologram with the tip of her nose, causing it to ripple momentarily. The forced joviality evaporated from her tone instantly.
"Not a great situation, huh?"
Fyrenn pulled up fully onto his hind legs, and began gesturing towards the tangle of telemetric symbols hovering in the display column.
"Passive sonar and magneto metric readings say there's a good chance we're surrounded by mines. Going the long way around to get a message to command would take too much time. Surfacing puts us in a crossfire. Agincourt would paint us long before we could paint her. The enemy submarine is still unaccounted for, we're down one ship and we can't communicate with the other."
Kephic sighed as he stepped into the CIC, shaking his head slowly as he picked up on the tail end of the conversation.
"Not to mention the likelihood that they're going to start dropping depth charges any second now."
Skye sighed, and raised an eyebrow.
"Well aren't you just a little ray of optimism in our cloudy day?"
The speckled Gryphon chuckled grimly, and fell back onto his haunches, staring into the holotank as if the force of his stern glare would force it to disgorge answers and solutions.
"I got tired of running laps around deck seven."
The Unicorn winced, and nodded. She realized that, on an unconscious level, the claustrophobic conditions were taking a toll on them; Especially the Gryphons, given not only their attachment to open sky, but their strong hatred for inaction.
The sound of talons rapping against the compartment's aft door frame instantly drew everyone's attention. Varan's grim visage filled the hatchway, and Fyrenn could tell that something had transpired.
The golden Gryphon blinked once, and spoke in a low, urgent tone, inclining his head directly at Fyrenn as he did so.
"You're wanted on the bridge."
The red Gryphon wordlessly dropped to all fours, and began following Varan through the corridor at a swift clip. Skye and Kephic immediately fell in behind.
Varan continued speaking as claws, paws, and hooves rapped in time against the metal of the deck plating.
"Lantry did not give a specific reason, but he asked me to convey a strong sentiment to you on his behalf; Please control yourself with regards to Captain Orik."
Fyrenn glowered, and shook his head as the group made its way quickly up a ladder to the bridge deck. As he pushed through the hatch, and regained footing on horizontal deck, he snorted.
"No promises."
Kephic inclined his head, and grinned slightly.
"Somehow I knew you'd say that."
Varan nodded calmly, and pulled up short a few feet from the bridge's aft port access door.
"I told him not to 'hold his breath.' "
Skye snickered as Varan pushed open the hatch, and winked, muttering to him under her breath as she passed.
"Good answer."
Fyrenn took stock of the bridge as he entered. Orik stood close to the central holo tank, flanked by Lantry and Carradan. The Pegasus looked visibly angered, which set the red Gryphon on edge instantly.
As Kephic, Skye, and Varan made their way in behind him, Neyla arrived through the starboard access door. Orik grunted, and shook his head.
"I'd prefer if we could discuss this in private."
Neyla raised an eyebrow and allowed a low, almost imperceptible hiss to escape her beak. Kephic snorted, and fixed the man with a hateful glare. Carradan sat back on his haunches, crossed his front legs, and allowed his muzzle to twist into an expression of pure disgust.
Varan decided to speak the obvious on everyone's behalf. Fyrenn had known his brother long enough to recognize subtle changes to his flat tone that spoke to a well controlled, but strong, and very dangerous underlying anger.
"We do not always get the outcome which we prefer."
Orik winced reflexively, and continued, albeit at a more hesitant pace.
"Five minutes ago, we picked up a low-band broadwave transmission. It was directed down and out from the surface. It was specifically directed at you."
The captain pierced Fyrenn with a sharp gaze, and gestured to the communications officer. The man nodded, and pressed several rapid fire commands on his console. A familiar voice crackled through the bridge speakers.
Fyrenn reflexively glowered, and tensed, as Minos' words issued forth.
"I have no doubt that the red Gryphon is down there with you. He's proven he'd never miss a chance at vengeance. So I'll make this simple for all of you. Convince him to give up the location of the child, and I will break my agreement with the HLF, disable my mines, and withdraw from the area. You have ten minutes."
A discomfiting silence ensued, during which Fyrenn probed Orik's face for any sign of his thoughts. At last, the Captain spoke, choking back his fear word by word.
"Fyrenn... I have to ask you to consider this as a viable option. I'd rather not make it an order, or worse, but that isn't off the table. We're talking about our best shot at saving billions of lives. You left her under excellent care and protection. I'm asking you to trust that the girl is provided for, and take a worthwhile risk."
The red Gryphon nodded slowly, eliciting expressions of pure shock from everyone else in the room, Orik included.
"In a sense, you're right. I don't much care to admit it... But under almost any other circumstances? I'd be forced to agree with you."
Fyrenn inhaled deeply, then shook his head once curtly as he continued.
"But given the way Earthgov has turned a blind eye to this mess for political reasons... Probably are the primary stakeholders to the whole affair... And given that Minos is, by nature, entirely dishonest and ruthless? More likely to shoot down both us, and the HLF, in the same breath? I have to put my claw down firmly here. The likelihood of reward does not outweigh the severity of risk."
The red Gryphon turned, and began making his way to the corridor once more. Orik's eyes narrowed, and he threw out one hand as his voice took on an almost pleading quality, tainted thoroughly by frustration.
"You're biased! If this were anyone else's child, you'd be prepared to make the right call without hesitation!"
Fyrenn halted, and tensed. He kept his gaze fixed firmly ahead, but his tone dipped into a low, dangerous warning growl that rattled the decking beneath his paws.
"Unlike you, I am not prepared to use children, *anyone's* children, as bargaining chips. This conversation is over."
Neyla nodded slowly, and took a menacing step towards the Captain, her voice deceptively calm.
"Do not put yourself, or your crew, in further danger needlessly. You have our answer, and it is final."
Orik shook his head, and sighed.
"We're not simply talking about this ship, or my crew. We're talking about the populations of entire species now. If you refuse to co-operate, I will have you placed under arrest, and I will acquire the information I need through one of your companions, or from General Lantry."
Fyrenn turned, and flared both wings slightly. Loud echoing whines filled the bridge, as Orik, several of his officers, and two marine guards, drew their sidearms.
The red Gryphon snorted, and raised an eyebrow.
"Why? You know from experience that this can't end well for you."
Orik tensed, and inclined his head slightly, keeping his pistol firmly trained at a spot directly between Fyrenn's eyes.
"Because deep down, I guess I just can't accept the idea that you'd kill your old CO in cold blood. I don't think you have it in you. And I don't for a moment buy a single thing you have to say about our superiors. They have my complete loyalty."
Lantry winced, and shook his head emphatically.
"Please Orik... Put the weapon down. You're inviting disaster!"
Fyrenn sighed, and chuckled grimly.
"You've made two mistakes. The first is presuming that I'd be merciful because we served together. Trust me when I say that I would have beaten you to a pulp even then, if you gave me good enough reason. The second?"
The red Gryphon inclined his head towards Neyla. Orik turned as Fyrenn spoke.
"You should be far more worried about her, than me."
The man barely had a moment to comprehend what he was seeing, accompanied by the red Gryphon's words, before his world snuffed out. Neyla threw a vicious double-winged punch, visibly deforming the sides of Orik's head.
The impact sent the man's body spinning backwards over the holotank. He came to rest against the opposite bulkhead with a sickening thud, bleeding profusely from several distinct points on his skull.
The majority of the bridge officers were too stunned to act. The marine guards attempted to open fire, but abruptly found their own weapons turned towards their lower jaw region, under the vice-like impetus of Kephic and Varan's claws.
The men wisely opted to release the weapons, taking a series of tentative steps backwards and raising their hands skyward in surrender.
Lantry bent over Orik, and swiftly placed two fingers to the side of his neck. He glanced up and gestured emphatically to the nearest officer.
"He's alive. Get a med team up here."
The General rocked back slightly in his crouched position, and shook his head grimly.
"I can't say he wasn't warned... But honestly, did you really have to put him in intensive care? We're running out of qualified naval officers at a rate of spades... Brutality serves no purpose now."
Lantry glanced up at Fyrenn, and raised an eyebrow.
"I'm hoping, for all our sakes, that you've got some idea for where to go from here. You helped put us in this mess... So you had better damn well get us out."
An awkward silence hung over the bridge for a moment. Fyrenn kept his breathing slow, and calm, as his mind raced frantically to intuitively knit together an uncountable number of variables into a workable configuration.
The General rose, and fixed the red Gryphon with an expression midway between concern, anticipation, and disappointment.
"I brought you out here for your capacity to turn impossible situations around. I was gambling that you'd bring something to the table that would outweigh the negative repercussions of cooping you up down here. For the love of God, prove me right."
Fyrenn's eyes narrowed as the tiniest spark of a concept took root in the back of his mind. He inhaled deeply, then began to firmly enumerate his requests.
"Clean up that transmission, store a hard copy. Cross-compare every last bit of telemetry from the moment it arrived. They would have had to send the burst during a lapse in the oscillation of the ECM blanket. Work back from that and figure out if we can isolate the frequency to send our own short-range bursts. Skye is on point for that task."
The red Gryphon turned back to the hatchway, speaking firmly as he left the bridge.
"Get the TAO on his feet again. He's the ranking competent naval officer. I want him, and the CAG, on the hangar deck in ten minutes."
Stan raised an eyebrow, and his tone crept upwards in a minute expression of hope.
"You have a plan?"
Fyrenn shook his head as he reached the top of the ladder.
"Almost. Just assume that I will in ten minutes, if it makes you feel better."
"Sir? Time's up."
Minos pursed his lips, and nodded slowly. He stared thoughtfully out the front bridge windows as a particularly large wave broke over the ship's bow. The man sighed, rubbed the back of his head absently, then nodded at the Agincourt's Captain.
"Alright then. It was worth a try. Start dumping depth charges. Four a minute, high-density spread, magnetically configured. Put the Lancets on reconnaissance duty."
Minos sighed, and folded his arms over the back of the Captain's chair as the officer moved around the bridge, quietly issuing a series of orders.
Agincourt's command center was especially long, compared to the average naval bridge, and barely a single story high. Most of what might have been the CIC was collapsed into the sides, and rear of the compartment.
As a result, missile control was more immediately accessible, and easier for the command staff to communicate with on short notice.
The chamber had been conceived, and built to Earthgov naval standards, but lacked the colors and insignia normally associated with a navy vessel. Instead, nearly everything was painted a drab shade of light gray, with default yellow stripes to indicate the placement of junction boxes, and fiber optic lines.
Minos stared out at the ocean and squinted, mumbling to himself as the ship pitched into another swell.
"You can't hide forever..."
Fyrenn placed the oversized DaTab down on the work cart with no small amount of emphatic force. He clutched the edges of the device, and leaned in, locking eyes with each member of the group in turn.
The distant thud of depth charges punctuated the relative silence of the hangar deck at disturbingly regular intervals.
Stan maintained a slight tinge of optimism on his muzzle. Skye seemed genuinely curious. Kephic, Varan, and Neyla all bore stern looks of supportive resolve. Lantry seemed largely preoccupied with keeping the TAO on his feet.
The Air Group Commander looked completely unimpressed, eyeing Fyrenn with unabashed suspicion, mixed with a healthy dose of well subsumed fear. Two other bridge officers were present; The LADAR officer seemed shaken, but the communications officer seemed surprisingly unfazed.
Fyrenn tapped several keys on the touchscreen before him, summoning a cartographic display. He glanced up once more, and raised one eyebrow slightly.
"We are operating at a disadvantage in terms of time, resources, and position. In practical terms? That means its time for 'no-holds-barred asymmetric warfare...' My favorite five words on the battlefield, incidentally. Our main disadvantage stems from the enemy's ECM field, so our first primary objective should be turning that firmly against them."
Fyrenn gestured to the comms officer as he continued.
"I'm told that the ship's AI, with a little help from Skye, have managed to pick out a break in the blanket's frequency. We're going to exploit this by making use of a unique opportunity the enemy has delivered gift-wrapped to our doorstep."
The Gryphon flicked a switch with one talon, and Minos' voice poured forth from the DaTab.
"I have no doubt that the red Gryphon is down there with you. He's proven he'd never miss a chance at vengeance. So I'll make this simple for all of you. Convince him to give up the location of the child, and I will break my agreement with the HLF, disable my mines, and withdraw from the area. You have ten minutes."
Fyrenn stabbed one index talon down towards the screen for emphasis.
"We're going to re-transmit this on the wide-band surface channels, at maximum amplification, making use of the exemption trough in the ECM blanket's current frequency setting. Agincourt will be forced to rotate the field harmonic settings to cover for their treachery, thus locking the HLF out, and making them just as blind as we are."
Varan nodded slowly, an approving hint of an upturn gracing one corner of his beak as he murmured softly.
"Divide et impera."
The TAO shook his head, and narrowed his eyes, wincing as the motions exacerbated the throbbing pain in his temple.
"That will instantly give away our position. They'll have torpedoes, mines, and depth charges all over us before we can even begin to take evasive actions. You'll have to forgive me if I'm not immediately enamored with your plan. Especially seeing as how you helped put my captain in a coma."
The red Gryphon nodded, and pointed with an index talon.
"Valid point. But I'm not finished."
Fyrenn tapped the display again, and gestured for the group to tighten the circle. A wireframe aircraft schematic filled the screen, rotating lazily about two axes by turns.
"Wild weasel. With a twist."
He gestured to the ship's compliment of aircraft, tucked snugly into their storage bays with folded wings, wheels firmly locked down with magnetic clamps.
"Most of the consignment onboard are Scythes. Useless in our current situation. Can't be launched while submerged, and will be too vulnerable in takeoff configuration after surfacing. But if you'll direct your gaze to the last two bays on the right, you'll see two HFB-17 SeaHawks. Originally designed for sub-surface launch configurations."
The CAG shook his head emphatically, and snorted, levelling an accusatory finger at Fyrenn.
"Now you're just blowing crap out of those fuzzy ears. The SeaHawk program shifted away from that system three years ago. We only stock them to fill a heavy fighter-bomber role now."
Fyrenn raised an eyebrow, and the edges of his beak turned down in a mixture of disdain, and dismissal.
"So much for the famous aviator 'can-do' attitude. This ship has two fully equipped machine shops, and an entire crew of air mechanics for *each* craft that have nothing better to do at the moment. You're telling me they can't be bothered to at least give this a shot?"
The Commander crossed his arms, but offered no verbal objection. Fyrenn nodded curtly, and continued unperturbed.
"Most modern fighters could almost fly themselves based on their AI wire-guidance package. The wild weasel doesn't need to undertake complex combat maneuvers. It just needs to divert mine, torpedo, and depth charge tracking to its own signature for a matter of seconds, at best."
The red Gryphon swiped a claw across the DaTab, returning it to the map display as he inhaled deeply.
"Our next objective has to be the platform itself. No matter what, and if all else fails, that structure must be painted with active targeting beams. We must assume that the initial assault failed to even reach the objective. So this time, we do it the Gryphon way."
Fyrenn gestured to Kephic and Varan, who each nodded in turn.
"You two will be the tip of the spear, and transport. You're each certainly capable of carrying one lightly armored, well armed trooper, so that gives us a four-person breach team."
Lantry held up a hand, and squinted down at the DaTab.
"Excuse me... But isn't the pressure at this depth too great, even for you? Let alone a Human being? Your plan requires us to surface, and that makes the ship too vulnerable."
Fyrenn nodded slowly, and allowed the tiniest hint of a grin to creep onto his beak.
"This is where we have to get creative."
He tapped at the DaTab once more, calling up a series of tactical illustrations as he outlined his idea.
"Our first SeaHawk is going to act as a wild weasel. We send out our short-range, high-power transmission. Immediately following that, the North Carolina will launch *both* SeaHawk's, and initiate a series of high-torsion evasive actions. The first SeaHawk will peel away under drone control, and drag the majority of enemy ordnance with it."
The red Gryphon glanced up, and inclined his head towards the aircraft.
"The second will be a crewed mission. Its objective is to reach the surface as quickly as possible, and deploy our own home-brewed ECM canisters."
Lantry, the TAO, and the CAG all winced as they took note of the on-screen specifications describing Fyrenn's 'home-brewed' solution. The Gryphon sighed, and nodded slowly as he finished.
"With that cover out, the Agincourt is at a distinct disadvantage, since she lacks railgun-based firepower as compared to us. With the majority of her missile targeting systems disrupted, she will be a viable kill. The North Carolina will surface and keep her engaged, at point-blank range, with support from the SeaHawk, while the strike team seeds the platform with targeting beacons. As soon as the beacons go live, the North Carolina will obliterate the platform."
After a long moment of thoughtful silence, the TAO nodded slowly, speaking with an even and surprisingly calm tone.
"I perceive two serious flaws in your plan. First; The crewed SeaHawk is essentially impossible to operate under the conditions you're describing."
The CAG let out a sound halfway between a snort, and a chuckle, and shook his head, stroking his moustache absently.
"You'd have to pull over fifty Gs of sustained maneuvering and acceleration forces to avoid being targeted, and destroyed before you break the surface. That's well into the red. Lethal. Kaput. Finite. The program was mothballed for a good reason."
Lantry nodded, and dipped his head.
"And if I'm not mistaken, the TAO is also going to point out that your plan doesn't factor in the submarine, which is still unaccounted for, and represents a dangerous adversary in our present condition."
Fyrenn shrugged both wings, and nodded.
"I'll admit; I can't really account for the sub. But the plan has a certain amount of built-in flexibility thanks to the SeaHawk, and the Columbia, the latter of which may join the battle and tip the scales further in our favor. As to the problem of G-forces..."
The red Gryphon tried, and failed, to keep a wide smile off his beak as he continued, crossing his forelegs and inclining his head.
"Sure. A human pilot can't take that kind of pressure in a sustained situation... But the aircraft is rated for a maximum stress of ninety five Gs. I couldn't necessarily say what the average Gryphon is rated for, except to point out that I know I've pushed well over sixty five Gs before, without coming even close to a gray-out."
The CAG shook his head emphatically and exhaled sharply.
"No. No you're too big, and too heavy, for the cockpit. SeaHawk is a two-person job, even under the best of conditions. You must weigh close to a quarter of a ton..."
Fyrenn rolled his eyes and perked his ears.
"Oh please. Probably a fair bit less than that. Besides, you regularly bolt two-thousand pound ordinance to the wings of that thing. Just pull all non-essential items from the configuration. As for the fit? I measured it. If you remove the seats and ejection mechanisms, we can fit sitting on the cockpit floor, with two inches to spare."
Skye blinked twice, and cocked her head.
"Now when you say 'we'?"
Fyrenn dipped his head towards Neyla, and grinned.
"I mean *we.* Neyla is the only other non-Human here that's fully qualified in military grade vehicle weapons systems."
The TAO squinted, and exhaled slowly as he reluctantly voiced his opinion.
"You're not flight qualified."
All three of the top-level Human officers looked ready to pile on further objections, but Fyrenn held up a claw, and shook his head slowly.
"I have a pair of wings. My reflexes are so fast that even the best pilot in the world would be orders of magnitude slower. I spent most of my initial military career preparing to be a pilot. I am as qualified as it's going to get. Before you raise any further points, or talk about how short we are of time, let me ask you this... In all honesty..."
Fyrenn glanced at each of the Human officers in turn, then loosed his question.
"Do any of you have a better idea?"
After a beat of silence passed, the red Gryphon crossed his forelegs, and snorted.
"Do any of you have *an* idea at all? Of any description? I'm sure I speak for everyone when I say that all options are on the table at this point."
Another moment of silence passed awkwardly. Fyrenn brought his eyes to rest on Lantry, and sighed, rubbing the back of his head with one claw.
"I'm nobody's diplomat. The jury is still out on whether or not I'll be a good father. I can't really offer an unbiased perspective on whether or not I've been a good brother... And I certainly haven't been a good little soldier..."
Fyrenn's eyes hardened, and his wings tensed as his voice took on a determined edge.
"But I am a good fighter. A good warrior. And you had better believe I'm good at improvising. You said you brought me here for my unconventional tactical insight. Well here it is. Take it or leave it."
Lantry sighed, and seemed to take a great interest in examining the pits and scrapes of the decking beneath his boots. He shuffled thoughtfully for a long moment, then glanced up at the CAG.
"How long will it take your crews to make the modifications to the aircraft?"
The man exhaled slowly, then threw up his hands.
"Five hours. Give or take. Assuming everyone who isn't busy with damage control pitches in."
Lantry nodded curtly, then shot a half-smile at Fyrenn.
"Do it. And pray we've got five hours to burn."