Attack Butterfly (Rust Bucket Universe) Read online

Captain Kruler was already waiting patiently for his officers to join him so that he could brief them on their mission. When they were all present, save for the one officer on the bridge, he began. "We've just received an assignment to take position near the Ape-oid home world. This is not an inspection mission. Intelligence specifies in our mission orders that we are to expect a breakout by the Ape-oids. Anything other than a freighter or an accompanying gun ship is to be destroyed without warning. See to your sections that everything is shipshape and ready for action. This might only turn out to be based on false information. Regardless, we will be ready. Are there any questions?"

  Mike was glad that one of the more senior officers asked, "Will we have any other ships with us?"

  "There will be another destroyer class ship arriving to watch from the other side of the planet. Anything on our half is ours to destroy. The other half is theirs," replied Captain Kruler.

  "Only one other destroyer?" the more senior officer exclaimed while shaking his head.

  Captain Kruler replied with a stern glare, "Lieutenant, I was with Admiral Oden when he tackled the Ape-oids with only one ship. It was older than this ship and outnumbered, not to mention having some of the dumbest officers on board that you could shake a stick at. This tub happens to have well-trained officers and crew members on it. It's better armed and just as fast. It will take on all comers! I am very sure that none of you will do anything less than his or her best. Now, unless there are any other questions, please see to your responsibilities and let your people know what's happening."

  Mike left the dining facility with mixed emotions. He let his mind think it over as he returned through the corridors to his section to brief his section. It must be a trap, he thought. The two destroyers were the bait. Then the Rust Bucket would swoop in on the Ape-oids and put them in their place again. If not that particular ship, after Mike remembered that it was a civilian ship again, running convoys when the war ended, then it would be one of the squadrons such as the Grim Reaper Squadron or the Berserker Squadron. Those were two very distinguished squadrons, either one of which was capable of pounding the Ape-oid world to a shambles. Both of them weren't too far away, either.

  ***

  "Admiral," the uniformed woman said as she again poked her head inside his office. "We just got a coded message."

  "What's the message?" Dave asked.

  She replied, "'Happy Anniversary,' sir."

  Dave said, "Thanks. Have a hover waiting in front for me. Send a reply confirming receipt. Then clear out the offices and report to your defensive stations."

  She hardly seemed shocked by his statement. Perhaps that was a testament to the responsibility he entrusted her and others with. Perhaps it was because each member of his staff was hand-picked.

  By the time that Admiral Dave Oden reached the front door to the offices, a hover was waiting for him complete with a driver and bodyguards. The bodyguards were one of the few things he had to put up with that he didn't like. He was still revered as a war hero on all the twenty-two inhabited member planets of the Union. There wasn't anyone who didn't recognize him on sight and wish him well for his deeds during the Ape-oids War.

  Dave had been Grand Marshal for so many parades on Union Day, he was beginning to regret being so popular. He couldn't wiggle out of it, either. The Navy Department thought it was a great idea for him to participate at least once each year in a Union Day parade on a different planet. It was good public relations. Each time he appeared on a different planet, the recruitment from that planet went up almost tenfold shortly afterwards. So far, he had been to nine different planets and participated in nine parades and countless social events.

  The way that Dave saw it was nine down, thirteen to go. He wondered if he would be available this year for a parade or if they would have a war going on again. If the war ended quickly, which Dave was sure it wouldn't, then he would be on Echo for their Union Day parade. He wondered how the military would cope with all those nudists joining? Echo was normally a recruiters nightmare, even though it was on the periphery of the inhabited worlds and ought to have more enthusiasm for military defense. Dave was aware of the increases in recruitment as a result of his visits. He knew that Echo would likely behave similarly. Even though many of the nudists immigrated to Edun after it was terraformed, Echo had remained a nudist world. As well, Echo was the sixth most populated world in the Union with nearly ten million people. Echo's now predominant swinger lifestyle had shoved it there ahead of other worlds settled years before it. Only Earth, Venus, Mars, Ceriga, and Glint were more populated. Of course, Earth still carried the majority of people in the Union. Its population of billions outnumbered all the other member planets combined. Consequently, Earth was still the main supply for recruits.

  The hover arrived at the space port where a small fast fighter was already waiting for him. The hover pulled up next to the fighter. A surprised Ensign Barter stared and saluted smartly at Admiral Oden as he left the hover. She followed him into the fighter and took her place. As soon as she saw that he was secured in a seat and that the hatch was sealed, she commanded her enlisted pilot to launch.

  The flight to the space station took only two minutes for the fast fighter. There, less than a half-hour earlier, Ensign Barter had been surprised to hear herself called to the bridge to be given this mission. There were shuttles, but Captain Sorenson instructed that she was to pickup a very important person who was too important to be transported by an unarmed vessel. Sylvia at first thought it was another disappointment to take the place of the earlier and exciting training she received from Sergeant Rendall who pronounced her as someone he wouldn't mind being piloted by. Sylvia took that as high praise, considering his experience. As far as she knew, he was still the very best pilot in the entire Navy.

  She docked the fighter expertly and allowed the admiral to exit the fighter first. Then she went about seeing that the crew did maintenance on the fighter, the only attack craft the space station carried. Something was happening on the space station. She now knew that it was big. Why else would the Navy call the Commandant of the only Space Academy away from his duties? Sylvia was certain that being on the same space station with Admiral Oden couldn't be all that bad. He was a man whom action seemed to center itself on. He caught lightning bolts and hurled them back at the enemy. Sylvia was glad again that she was on the station. Now she wanted to know more than ever what was going on. Could it be the Ape-oids? Were they planning a breakout?

  ***

  Admiral Oden stood on the bridge of the space station. He chatted with Captain Sorenson whom he greeted as an old friend. Sylvia knew, of course, that they were old friends who served together during the Ape-oids War. After all, she had done her homework, learning as much about her captain as the captain knew about her or maybe almost as much.

  Sylvia wondered why she was called to the bridge when the orders went over the intercom to strap down everything for more emergency maneuvers. Was this why he was here? Sylvia wondered if this was only a demonstration for him to use in the academy. Maybe he was seeing the final results of another of his grand plans or ideas that would then be taught in the academy to cadet ensigns following in her footsteps. Was she expected to also demonstrate that she learned how to perform the same maneuvers? Was this why she received what seemed like a shitty assignment for a ensign who was in the top fifth of her class?

  Sylvia wished she could get a better image of what went through the admiral's mind. He seemed so concerned about everyone and everything. She even had friendly conversations with him during her term at the academy on no less than five occasions. That was quite an honor considering how little time he had to give anyone. Only two other people received more. Each of them had six meetings and one was now dead. Sylvia had been sure that she was going to do extremely well and get a choice assignment when she graduated.

  The couple of minutes warning seemed to go by faster this time. The next thing Sylvia knew, her thoughts were interrupted as the space stati
on left orbit again on a wild ride through space. She felt her stomach do flip-flops as the station performed maneuvers that no one planned on it doing for anything other than in an emergency when it was designed and built. In fact, it did a few that weren't considered rational maneuvers even for an emergency.

  After an hour, the maneuvers ended. The space station returned to its orbit about Beulah. Sylvia wasn't called to take the pilot's chair and demonstrate her prowess. She wondered why she had been called to the bridge.

  Dave unstrapped himself and walked beside Shirley over to Ensign Barter. "Ensign, I understand that you have Sergeant Rendall's complete confidence in handling this craft. I commend you on that. I was fairly certain that you would be the right person for this job when the Malakins attack."

  "The Malakins, sir?" she exclaimed.

  He replied, "Yes, they're on their way. We'll be ready with a few surprises of our own. You'll be relieving Sergeant Rendall during the battle so he can rest up. When it's over, you'll be reporting to Echo to train some more pilots on how to do these things, provided they still have a space station. I expect that we're the ones who'll get hit the hardest, though. You better get rested up. Captain Sorenson is assigning someone else to your other duties. I wouldn't have anyone other than you and Rendall as my flagship's pilots."

  "Uh, yes sir. Uh, thank you, sir," Sylvia managed to answer as part of the mystery of her assignment revealed itself.

  He added, "By the way, when you finish training the other pilots, you'll be given your choice of squadrons and ship. How's that for an incentive and reward for being treated so poorly by an old admiral?"

  Sylvia replied dreamily, "It's wonderful, sir. Thank you, so much!"

  Ensign Sylvia Barter returned to her quarters, mindful that she was to rest for an upcoming battle. A battle? She was being trusted with the life of the great Admiral Dave Oden in battle! Was he able to see this far into the future so many years ago? Was that why he talked with her so often?

  ***

  Susan listened to the scramble alarm go off while she reported to her battle station with her crew. It wasn't difficult to do so since crew quarters in the carrier were all relative to the fighter craft so that they wouldn't have to jostle their way through crowds of other people trying to get to their own stations. In fact, the only people around her when she ran out of her quarters were her crew members and maintenance personnel. As she reached her fighter, she noted that the ready lights were on amber and not red. She wasn't expected to launch just yet. Susan still had to report in and notify the carrier commander that her crew was assembled and could launch within thirty seconds more. She picked up the head and handset and waited for an acknowledgement before talking.

  "Attack Butterfly, fighter 45, ready to launch, sir!" she spoke crisply, remembering to use her fighter number as identification in case someone hadn't gotten the word about the name she gave it.

  "Stand by for instructions. Thank you."

  Susan wondered what kind of instructions? This was an unusual way to pass on instructions. Normally it would be done in a formal briefing. She continued to hold onto the handset and listen. There was a touch of static about two minutes later. Then the carrier commander's voice came on. "This is Captain Grade of the Fighter Carrier Terra. Intelligence sources indicate that a force of Malakin warships are approaching Beulah and other outer planets in an attempt to catch us by surprise. We are moving the Mad Dogs Squadron into position to catch the Malakins off guard when they arrive. Please instruct your crew members about what's going on and try to relax near your fighters. The dining hall staff will be coming around with light snacks and beverages for anyone who has the jitters. Believe me, I know how you all feel right now as we prepare to get involved in a shooting war. You're all capable and qualified men and women who won't let the Navy or the Union down. You don't have to worry about letting me down. You've already lived up to my expectations so you're a third of the way there. Be aware that Beulah Station will be taking part in the battle. They have a few surprises of their own, so be sure to give them a wide berth. I understand that Admiral Oden is running the battle from there. Beulah Station is our flagship once the shooting begins. That ought to give you some indication of what we intend to show and do to the Malakins. I really pity those poor insectoids."

  Susan kept her hand off the transmit switch and repeated, to the men and woman gathered around her, almost every word that Captain Grade spoke. Each of them showed surprise at first that a shooting war was about to begin. Susan wondered if her own face revealed anything about how she felt. She thought before that she might get a chance for action against the Ape-oids if they ever attempted a breakout. She had followed the news on the negotiations with Malak, but hadn't discerned the severity of how badly the talks were going. She honestly thought that it could be patched up peacefully since both sides were constantly talking, unlike the Ape-oids who simply came out fighting years ago.

  Captain Grade was saying, "When the alarm for battle stations is given, you'll all know what to do. Have faith in yourselves and your training. You will acquit yourselves well today. Good luck and good shooting. Thank you. That's all for now."

  Susan's eyes gleamed with the intensity of a natural born killer instinct. She was always ready to play rough. Now she was getting to go at it for real. She had practiced with her crew for a few days now and was confident in their abilities. She saw immediately that it was to be a righteous war in that the Malakins were attacking the Union. There wouldn't be anyone waving a Malakin flag around or defending their choice of attacking instead of negotiating. The Malakins hadn't been able to draw anyone to their cause like the Ape-oids once did among the populace on the planets when there were only twenty-one member planets. Now the Union was a little bigger and stronger. The Navy was at full strength with a number of new ships, including her own fighter-carrier and its fighters.

  ***

  "Message for you, Admiral, I think," the communications officer announced.

  "What's it say?" he asked.

  "Just two blips, sir, on the special frequency you told me to monitor."

  Dave replied, "Very good, that's what I was expecting. Keep that channel monitored at all times."

  Shirley asked, "What's that mean, provided you can tell me?"

  "Two waves definitely spotted coming in our direction. The Malakins seem to do most things in threes. I figure we'll get hit by three waves, probably three hours apart or close to that if you use the Malakin time system."

  "How many in each?" she asked.

  "We don't know that yet."

  "So, we're going to wait here until they arrive and fire the first shot, then?" asked Shirley.

  Dave exclaimed, "Hell no! When they arrive, that's enough for a state of war to exist. We'll shoot first and maneuver at the same time. There isn't any way in hell that I'm giving them the first shot!"

  Shirley replied, "I'm relieved to learn that. I thought we might have to play sitting duck for awhile."

  Dave said, "Not at all, Shirley. We've got wings, so this duck is going to be a moving target. There aren't any politicians anywhere near us to tell us otherwise, either."

  Chapter 4

  "Yeeeeeeeee-haaaawwwwwww!" Susan shouted, as her fighter launched from the carrier along with all the other fighters. Fortunately, her crew was already used to her shouting on launch and didn't bother looking back at her.

  As her fighter came out of the carrier, she saw Beulah Station suddenly fire one of its defensive weapons at the approaching Malakin fleet and then do a maneuver she didn't know a space station was capable of. It was quite a lively craft, she suddenly realized as her own fighter hit top speed and swept out towards the massive Malakin fleet that outnumbered the Mad Dogs Squadron of thirty warships. The carrier was already moving into a rear guard position for the squadron as the rest of the squadron advanced on the Malakin fleet with virtually every gun firing that could be brought to bear.

  Susan snapped her attention back onto the M
alakin fleet. She saw that they appeared surprised, judging by their reactions, and well they should be. The Malakin surprise attack wasn't a surprise. They were being ambushed to boot! They might be bigger and there might be more of them, but already the Malakin plan was in shambles. Now the Malakin fleet was trying to make the best out of a bad situation as it attempted to shift its position to counter the attacking Mad Dogs Squadron. Virtually no attention was being paid to the fighter command by the Malakin fleet. Susan wondered if the Malakins thought her small fighter and the others weren't a threat? If so, then she and her companions had yet another surprise in store for them.

  As the Malakin fleet shifted its position, it ignored the space station that was firing its few defensive weapons at them. The Malakin fleet tried to put its punch onto the attacking squadron. As it turned, more and more of its weapons could be brought to bear, but they were holding their fire, even though the Mad Dogs were already scoring long range hits, causing minor damage that could mount up and be telling in almost no time at all.

  "Pinball!" came over Susan's communications from the fighter wing leader.

  Susan's eyes lit up with fiery determination as her fighter was released to target whatever warship she could reach. Then the squadron would reform on the back side of the Malakin ships and do it again. For now, her pilot was steering. She only had to concentrate on gunnery unlike in the academy where she had to be able to handle the fighter as if she was the only person to launch it. Then and there, she had to navigate, communicate, pilot, and fire the gun all on her own. This was easy compared to that. She lined up her target sights on a juicy enemy dreadnought and fired the Mark VI gun at it, watching the bolt slice into the metal plating of the enemy ship now in range. She kept firing as the pilot twisted the fighter to keep from being hit by return fire that wasn't coming at them at all yet. Around her, other fighters were getting the same easy first shots on the enemy fleet as they suddenly flew among the enemy ships where they could fire point blank with maximum effect and be even harder to defend against. Susan managed to keep the trigger of the Mark VI depressed so that she cut a jagged line across a long line of hull plating on the dreadnought until she saw only space in her sights. Her fighter swept away from the dreadnought and angled toward an enemy cruiser. She only got to pause for a brief moment before the cruiser was in her sights and she was firing again. The cruiser got no respect from her, either, as she fired her Mark VI gun at it. She caught an enemy gun position in her sights and watched it fall apart. That's one less gun that can return fire, she thought.