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Attack Butterfly (Rust Bucket Universe) Page 5
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Her pilot kept on the cruiser until he had to veer again. Once more, Susan kept the trigger down and cut a long swath across the hull plating. She thought for a moment that she caught sight of space through the hole she was making in the cruiser. Her beam swept across one of the engines. She glanced back as space filled her sights. The cruiser wasn't turning anymore!
"Yeeeee-haaawwww! Got him!" she exclaimed and then snapped her attention back to the sights, confident that the damaged cruiser would foul up the enemy formation severely.
Her pilot had her on a rear guard destroyer that was nearly as big as one of her own cruisers. These enemy ships are so large, she thought, it's impossible to miss! Her shots on the enemy destroyer were even more telling as she watched her Mark VI gun tear completely through the destroyer's hull and then watched it slowly rupture. It was totally dead as far as she could see.
"Scratch one enemy destroyer! Yeeeee-haaawww!" Then she controlled herself and spoke to her pilot, "Okay, form up with the wing leader for the return trip."
The pilot nodded in front of her and then added, "Yeeee-haaawww!" himself for good measure.
***
"How are we doing so far?" asked Dave.
"Three enemy destroyers destroyed, one cruiser severely damaged and out of control, two dreadnoughts severely damaged. Change that to add one cruiser destroyed!"
Dave said, "Good, good. Not as much as I would like for a first strike, but good nonetheless considering how badly they outnumber us. From what I know or can guess of their organization, they brought in three squadrons. That's eighty-one warships. We've got thirty-one warships, counting this station, and thirty-one fighters."
"More for you, sir! Add three more destroyers destroyed, two cruisers destroyed, and one more dreadnought damaged."
Dave commented, "That's more like it! We can lick 'em!"
***
Susan's fighter swept into formation. Then her wing leader led them in a line against the rear of the enemy fleet. They concentrated their fire on the engines of the enemy rear guard destroyers so that they could get at the engines of the larger enemy warships.
***
Everette went from gun station to gun station on the Dreadnought America as she pounded away with her weapons at the enemy fleet in front of them. So far, the two sides were keeping some distance between them, jockeying for positions that would favor them. His squadron, the Mad Dogs, was larger than it had been during the Ape-oids War. Then it had only ten ships. Now it was thirty ships composed of three dreadnoughts, six cruisers, one carrier, and twenty destroyers. Information was flowing freely over the intercom about how the battle was going. So far, the enemy was the one losing ships. Everette felt good about that as he continued to monitor the Mark VII's he had responsibility for, making sure that everything continued to go smoothly.
As he went from post to post, he could overhear the gunners remarking about how easy it was to hit the larger Malakin ships. The sheer size of the Malakin ships bothered him at first. Now he saw it as a distinct advantage for his side and a severe disadvantage for the enemy. His squadron was smaller in size and number as well as being well-spaced apart from each other. Much of the return fire was missing them, going between the ships off into empty space. The enemy fleet was just too close together, so it was almost impossible to miss. So far, the gunners weren't having any trouble missing their own fighters when they mixed in with the enemy fleet. The responders on the fighters kept their own weapons from firing on them until they were clear which was usually just a millisecond.
***
"Admiral, reports coming in again. Four more destroyers destroyed. Two cruisers also dead in space. Only light damage to our ships."
Admiral Oden nodded as he kept track of the score. The enemy had lost fifteen ships so far without a loss on the Union side. Now it was only sixty-six to thirty-one capital ships. The odds were improving.
***
"Pinball!" came over the communications again. Again, Susan didn't even have to tell her pilot to veer out of the formation to race through the enemy formation again, but she did just so he would know that he was doing what he should.
"Okay, veer into them again!" she ordered.
Susan watched the fixed sight sweep onto another destroyer as her ship came from behind the enemy fleet. She fired her Mark VI and peppered the enemy destroyer from stern to bow. She definitely saw two of her shots go clear through the hull to reveal space on the other side. The guns on the destroyer fell silent. She knew she had destroyed it. "Yeeee-haaaawww! Scratch another destroyer!"
She barely had time to finish speaking before she was concentrating her fire on the cruiser that was in front of the now dead destroyer. Her fire slashed at the engines of the cruiser and then along the length of the hull almost halfway to the nose before her pilot banked towards another ship. Susan saw two gun emplacements on the side of the cruiser go silent as her fire caught them from behind while they were trying to concentrate their fire on the Mad Dogs Squadron.
The enemy dreadnought loomed in front of her while her hands gripped the firing mechanism. She continued to pour on fire at anything that came into her sights without a responder signal. She barely noticed one of the other fighters take a hit and crash into the side of one of the dreadnoughts. It contained someone she knew personally, of course, but it happened too fast for her to tell whom it had been.
***
Everette felt a small shudder in the ship. He knew that they had taken a hit. He went along his gunnery stations and rechecked them. His stations were all in fine shape and his gunners were in good spirits. He called in to the bridge with his damage report.
***
Dave observed the fighters emerging from the front of the enemy formation. It was soon apparent to him that a few of them were missing. Those were the first noticeable casualties, even though he was already sure that some capital ships of the Mad Dogs Squadron had taken hits and suffered casualties by now.
The communications officer spoke out in the distance, it seemed to Dave as he concentrated on observing and analyzing the enemy movement. "Put a destroyed dreadnought in the kill column." He noted mentally that it was the first enemy dreadnought out of action. That left eight of them to the three in the Mad Dogs Squadron. If anyone had a chance of whipping the enemy fleet, it was Commodore Remm on the flagship America. He wished there had been time before the battle to visit with her and chat for a while.
***
Susan instructed her pilot to loop back into the enemy fleet. She felt the g-forces suddenly press her back in her seat as the nimble fighter pulled a sharp u-turn and sped back into the fray. It seemed like only a second passed before she was sighting in on enemy ships, again. She felt that it was becoming a turkey shoot. She hadn't missed a shot yet. Every shot caused significant damage at the point blank range that hers and the other fighters were firing at.
"This is F42 taking command of the wing! Continue Pinball!"
William had been taken out? Her own fighter wing commander was gone? She kept her head clear as she continued to fire, raking every target with scathing fire. Susan barely noticed that the dreadnought she was firing on suddenly went quiet or that gases were escaping from the holes in it with small pieces of debris being shoved out into space by them as her fighter banked towards a cruiser.
Kenyon at navigation, which wasn't needed for the tactical maneuvering they were currently engaged in, spotted that the dreadnought was dead and toggled on his radio. "Scratch one more dreadnought!" he shouted. As he watched, one of the enemy cruisers tried to desperately change course again to avoid hitting the now dead dreadnought. The enemy's initial tight formation was working to its disadvantage in more ways than one. Kenyon switched to his light side-mounted Mark II gun and fired at the escaping gases from the now dead dreadnought. He succeeded in igniting them to create a brief flare up that exploded the dreadnought into pieces and blinded some of the enemy ship's sensors. His hit spread out the debris of the dreadnought so that
it was impossible for the enemy cruiser to avoid hitting a large chunk of it. Getting into the spirit of the battle, Kenyon shouted, "Yeeeee-haaaawwww! Avoid that now, you bastard!" He watched the enemy cruiser suffer damage as several large pieces of the destroyed dreadnought were thrown against it while others still hung in space for it to go through. "Damage on a cruiser!" he reported.
Susan took him at his word without glancing away from her sights. "Great work, Kenyon!" she exclaimed. She knew he fired his light weapon which was only suitable for strafing troops when supporting their own ground combat forces. Evidently he hit something that even his light weapon could harm.
Kenyon spoke, "Advise the other fighters that if one of the enemy ships is leaking gases, the Mark II's can ignite them."
Susan spoke quickly over her communications to the other fighters and passed on Kenyon's discovery.
***
Dave watched as an enemy dreadnought burst into flame for just a brief moment. That brought the enemy dreadnoughts still active down to seven. Things were improving. Now it was only fifty-five to thirty-one.
"Destroyer Percy destroyed!" came suddenly out of the communications officer's lips.
Dave glanced over at the Mad Dogs Squadron and spotted the Percy easily. It was dead, its hull shredded from one side to the other. He adjusted his figures to fifty-five to thirty. It was bound to happen sooner or later. He hadn't expected to get out of the battle without some casualties. It wasn't long before the maneuvers of the two fighting forces left the Percy floating on a course of its own, alone with its complement of dead men and women. It was doubtful that there would be any survivors. If there were, they'd have to wait until the battle was over.
If the Union Navy won, a salvage ship would also later retrieve the Percy and bring it back home to take the dead men and women off for burial. Then maintenance experts would work on either repairing the ship or using it to repair others with. If the Navy lost, the Percy would probably continue to drift out into deep space for untold time.
"Berserker Squadron is being assigned to our sector, sir," the communications officer stated a moment later. "Their ETA is ten hours from now."
Dave said, "Acknowledge the message. Send them the battle stats."
"Already have, sir!"
Dave looked at the communications officer. The woman was smiling as Dave looked at her. He returned the smile to let her know that she was doing well. Then he turned his attention back to the battle in progress. Almost ten years ago, he wouldn't have been able to rely on unknown officers, not that he hadn't done his own homework on the Beulah Station's personnel before boarding the satellite, to do everything he expected out of them. Now the Navy was something he was very proud to be a part of. This was a fighting Navy that didn't back down or run when the going got tough. This was a fighting Navy that was well trained and confident. This was a fighting Navy willing to go against the long odds. This was his fighting Navy.
More battle stats came from communications. Dave listened intently to the latest kill reports as more of the enemy destroyers were added to the list. The odds went down to forty-five to twenty-nine as another Navy destroyer was taken out of action in the Mad Dogs Squadron. The only stat that no one could keep track of easily was how many Navy fighters were still menacing the enemy fleet within its own formation where they were nearly impossible to hit or defend against. If Dave knew that, he might have been better able to predict what his total losses would be. He was already confident of the outcome of the battle. His side would win against this invading fleet. If the Mad Dogs could wipe it out soon enough, they might be able to rest briefly and make some repairs before the second wave hit them.
"Three blips, Admiral, on the special channel."
Dave nodded as he received verification that a third wave was definitely on its way to Beulah. His forces would have to keep their losses low or be overrun by the huge numbers of enemy ships. He also knew that if the Mad Dogs didn't wipe out this fleet before the arrival of the second wave, then the tide would change dramatically. He would have to order them to withdraw before they could be surrounded and wiped out by two maneuvering enemy elements.
***
Susan lined up the destroyer in her sights and fired again. She noted with calm satisfaction that her shots took out the engines of the enemy ship. It was no longer maneuvering with the rest of the fleet. As she continued shooting, she noticed hits being made on the same destroyer by another fighter. She didn't mind the assistance at all. The sooner all the enemy ships were destroyed, the better. She was already hoarse from yelling. She limited herself to passing on information to the other fighters and the big ships of the squadron. Susan didn't give herself any time to consider just how many ships her fighter was responsible for damaging or destroying. There were too many other things to do and think of as her fighter quickly and nimbly jounced in and among the huge enemy warships, taking point blank shots with its powerful Mark VI gun.
Her pilot was flying the fighter and she was firing the main gun. Her other two crew members, without any real duties to do were each actively manning their Mark II side-mounted guns meant for ground support to add firepower to the entire melee. Susan was barely aware of whether they were doing any good with most of their shots. Nonetheless, it gave them something to do. Susan didn't see any reason for them not to fire since each weapon had its own power supply and recharge system. They certainly weren't taking away anything from the other weapons or the engines.
Her fighter swung away from the now almost dead destroyer. She fixed her sights on another destroyer class enemy ship. She was barely given enough time to release the trigger before she was pressing it again.
***
One of the Mad Dogs Squadron cruisers suddenly went silent and drifted away from the squadron formation. The report came to Dave and he nodded. That made three major losses from the squadron. He wondered just how bad off the remaining ships were as far as damage was concerned. It was difficult to tell if individual guns were working or not at the visual range from the space station to where the battle was taking place.
Both fleets maneuvered into deeper space so that they could attempt more complex maneuvers in both the offense and defense. His space station flagship was forgotten as a participant of the battle as the enemy strove to keep the Navy ships away from any planetary defense systems that might have evened up the battle more, not that it wasn't already becoming even in numerical odds. Dave considered their forty to his twenty-seven as fairly even. He wasn't counting the space station anymore since it couldn't keep up with the battle and remain active. Now the Beulah Station was performing rear guard and last ditch defense for the planet. He had to hand it to the Malakins in one respect. Their dreadnoughts, larger than the Navy's own dreadnoughts, certainly accepted a tremendous amount of punishment before they died. Dave knew that against similarly sized craft, the battle would have been over by now. Even the enemy cruisers, as large as the Navy's dreadnoughts, were taking considerable damage before they finally accepted the grave.
***
"I just saw a shuttle of some sort go between two ships!" Kenyon exclaimed.
"Where?" asked Susan.
"Went to our right and docked."
Susan called out on communications, "All fighters, concentrate on the ship that Attack Butterfly is attacking. We suspect that the enemy has transferred his flag!"
***
"They've found the enemy flagship! Attack Butterfly is leading them in after it," the communications officer stated to Admiral Oden.
Dave heard the name of the fighter. He thought for a moment before he realized who must be in that fighter. That would have to be Lieutenant jg Thompson, he guessed. She was the only fighter commander he knew of from the academy who went to the Mad Dogs Squadron. So, she had taken his story and used it to name her fighter. Incredible, he thought, but the name fit in an eerie sort of way. She was, after all, in the smallest fighting vessel that the Navy used and attacking the largest enemy vessel aroun
d. It was little more than a single Mark VI gun with an engine and gunner's compartment stuck onto it. Silently, he wished her and the other fighters luck in destroying the enemy dreadnought.
"Enemy flagship is reeling!" the communications officer suddenly blurted out, almost interrupting Dave's thoughts as he watched the maneuvers of the Mad Dogs Squadron itself.
Dave thought he saw something happening there. Then he was positive of it. They had spotted a weakness. One of the Navy dreadnoughts was leading off part of the squadron to take advantage of it. The whole maneuver took place before his eyes as slightly over a third of the Mad Dogs Squadron peeled off and streaked to a new battle position to catch the enemy in a devastating cross fire. They were using the individual initiative tactic that Dave re-introduced during the Ape-oids War.
Suddenly there were more reports of enemy ships being destroyed. "Enemy flagship is destroyed!" the communications officer shouted. In the background, Dave could hear a loud yell punctuating the communications network. It sounded like a woman hoarsely yelling, "Yeeeee-haaaawwww!"
***
Commodore Remm watched as one of her cruisers suddenly ruptured. She hadn't even known that the ship was going to be hit. It was just a coincidence that she happened to be looking in that direction when it happened. It marked the fourth ship of her squadron that was destroyed. Reports coming in around her indicated that a third of her fighters weren't returning, either. Otherwise, the battle was going well as the two groups of ships concentrated their fire onto the remaining enemy ships that no longer outnumbered her force. Now it was an even match in the number of warships. With the enemy flagship out of commission, the job suddenly became even easier as the enemy ships lost their formation. She knew then with certainty that her squadron would win.