Staring out into the vast emptiness of space, he can not help but contemplate how different his life would have been if had elected to follow orders like a “good soldier.” Just obey every command and order completely and trust in the words of others. “Trust in the words of others,” he thinks to himself as he snorts gently. Now that would have been a unique concept for him to try. Probably back when he was younger, he would obey without question but age has a way of sweeping those lingering feelings of idealism away like dust on a floor and hardens your soul to the cold realities of the universe. Would his life have been any different if he had made different choices based on faith in others instead of common sense? More than likely he would not even be alive today if he had listened. His home destroyed, his friends and family lost. Everything that he had is but a distant memory now. So much has happened over these past few years that he wonders if it will ever end. The question weighs heavy on his soul as he draws his attention back to the scene in front of him. Bracing one arm against the bulkhead, he continues to watch the battle off in the distance. As if present matters were not anymore complicated, now a new variable has been thrust back into what passes for a life for him now. “Just what are they up to these days,” he thinks to himself. Further thoughts are interrupted as his XO quietly steps beside him.
“Have the boys down in intel had a chance to confirm those signals Bill?”
“Yes sir. They washed it through the system several times and it came up the same answer. Those are definitely UED ships out there,” he says as he hands over a cup of coffee.
“Great,” he growls as he takes a sip and grimaces from the harsh taste. “As if this sector wasn’t anymore crowded, now we have the UED back on the scene.” Turning briefly to look at his XO, he adds another comment with a slight smirk. “And what did I say about that sir crap?”
Smiling slightly, his XO replies, “Sorry Jim. Old habits die hard I guess. So do you think another fleet from Earth came to find out what happened to their previous buddies?”
“Not sure,” he says as he rubs the stubble on his chin. “If it is a new fleet I don’t think they would be running around on little supply raids. One would think they’d have brought their own supplies.”
“Yeah… that makes sense. When they first came here they were more interested in assuming control instead of going shopping for goods.”
“Exactly Bill. So that takes us back to the first theory. Those guys out there were part of the original force. So now that we’ve pretty much figured that out there’s one question left to ask.”
“Are they still with the UED or have they decided instead to go freelance,” finishes his XO.
“Ding Ding Ding. Give that man a prize,” replies Raynor with a slight smile. “Well that’s what we intend to find out Bill.”
Moving over towards the tactical station he asks for an update on the battle. “How’re our new friends doing out there Tom?”
“So far kicking the shit out of Arcturus’ boys Cap’n,” he replies with broad grin. “I’ve got 20 credits riding that they stomp ‘em with no more than 8 losses.”
“I say they do it losing at least a squad,” puts in another bridge crewmember.
“Let’s not be too hasty there boys and you can put me down for 20 that they do it losing no more than 6,” states Raynor with a tight grin. “Cloaked combat is a cast iron bitch. It’s all about instrumentation and vectors. You wind up depending more on the information from someone else instead of your own eyes. That’s a hard thing for a pilot to do. These guys act like it doesn’t even faze them.”
“Bullshit Cap’n,” retorts the comm officer. “They can’t be that good. As soon as they lose their vessels they’ll be cold meat in space. Look at the odds. It’s like three-to-one favoring Mengsk’s boys.”
“We’ll see about that,” counters Raynor as he moves to get a better view of the battle on the display.
“Are you serious about finding out who they’re with, Jim?” asks his XO.
With his attention completely on the tactical display, he replies without turning. “Have you ever heard of the old saying the enemy of my enemy is my friend?”
“You’re not thinking of asking them to join up with us are you,” asks his XO with a stunned look on his face.
“Maybe,” answers Raynor with a raised eyebrow. “Never hurts to have a few more allies.”
“I know Jim but can we really trust ‘em?”
“Well the only way to find out is to ask them huh?” he replies as he turns back to watch the ensuing battle with a great deal of interest.
***
Meanwhile out in the debris filled field, the battle continues to rage on without pause. Onboard the UED science vessel Galatea, her crews continue to feed attack vectors to their supporting fighters.
“Two fighters closing on Wild 3 from mark 218.2!” excitedly relays one controller.
“Break right Jamie!” yells Razor as he whips his fighter into an inverted reverse course. Wild 3 responds immediately just as a flurry of laser blasts streak across space in his wake. With his targeting system being fed from the readings off their science vessel, Razor hears the seeker head on his missiles tracking into the void. The low-pitched growl changes to a high-pitched tone and he squeezes the trigger twice. With a blinding flash of light, two missiles leap off the rails and roar off into emptiness. The missiles close the distance rapidly with their hidden targets and impact on the sterns of two Dominion wraiths. With a blinding flash, the once cloaked wraiths are revealed before they disappear under the hammering blows. One wraith disappears in an expanding red fireball while the other spins off out-of-control into the void as flaming pieces fly off; the pilot ejecting seconds later.
“Thanks boss!”
“Nicely done commander,” states a controller on the Galatea.
“Thanks,” replies Razor as he blows a drop of sweat from his nose. “But it’s not over yet,” he adds as he pulls his fighter over to a new course.
“Watch it commander! You’ve got one closing from your rear!” shouts the tactical controller.
Razor immediately snap rolls his fighter left and dives just as a score of shots arcs out from the darkness seeking him. One laser manages to punch a hole in his starboard wing sparking a brief fire. His fighter shudders roughly from the impact as a section of his display flashes red from the damage. Looking down at his tactical, he banks his fighter hard in the opposite direction cutting across the path of the following fighter.
“Swing to mark 075.2 boss!” says Wild 2. “I’ll pick him off your tail!”
“Don’t bother Gunther, I got him,” calmly announces Razor as he immediately throws his fighter back to his original course. Caught flatfooted trying to follow him, the Dominion fighter overshoots Razor. A sharp flip by Razor and hunter now becomes the hunted. Scanning the supplied readings and guessing correctly, he manages to trace a line of shots into the void onto the targeted fighter. The lasers lance through the small fighter’s hull and blast it into wreckage.
“Ok, that takes care of that.”
“Well done commander. Be advised Wilds we’re reading six more fighters trying to close on us at mark 314.5!”
“Acknowledge control,” says Razor as he yanks his fighter over to the new heading. He scans around him and spots the flaming death of one more of the bandits.
“And your mom too!” screams Squeezer as he flies through the center of the expanding cloud of wreckage hollering a war whoop.
The incoming Dominion fighters, coached by their own vessels, barrel recklessly towards the UED vessel in an attempt to eliminate their opponent’s advantage. Fed data from their own defended vessels, they struggle to volley off their missiles. They continue to thread through the defensive fire of the UED towards their goal.
“Jamie, Warren. Break to mark 314.5 now!” snaps Razor. Wilds 3 and 4 immediately peel off from formation and rocket off towards the intercept heading. “Steve, Chris. Fallback to cover position for leakers.” Wilds 11 and 12 viciously reverse course and head back towards their vessel.
“Wilds 3 and 4 sending your target feeds now!” announces the tactical controller.
Targeting coordinates are received and the computer-predicted imaging is displayed on their HUD. Seeker heads start to growl as they begin to acquire their elusive foes. The tone switches to a high warble and with one pull on the trigger, a missile is ejected off the hard point of each fighter. With a brilliant flaring of light and a roar that is heard even in the vacuum of space, the two missiles streak off and seconds later blast the two wraiths out of existence. The first wraith is immolated in the fiery explosion as the other is shredded into numerous fiery pieces despite the attempts to evade.
“Yeah! That’s two for us!” screams Wild 4 with glee.
The four surviving incoming Dominion fighters continue on despite the loss as they rapidly close the distance to maximum missile range. Their warheads lock and quickly six missiles are volleyed off at the UED vessel as they turn to run. Warning alarms scream insanely throughout the vessel.
“We’ve got six inbound Wilds! We could use some help over here!” urges a controller.
“Got it! Steve, Chris, take those out!” orders Razor as he and his wingman roar off to intercept.
Three missiles fall to a barrage of lasers from the defensive fire of Wilds 11 and 12 and explode harmlessly out of range. Wild 2 drops onto the tail of a passing missile but only gets off a fleeting burst. It’s enough to clip one missile in the engine and the weapon spins out of control to explode in a shower of debris. The last two missiles continue on as the ponderous vessel struggles to evade. Razor blasts parallel with the inbound missiles and snaps his fighter over viciously tracing a flurry of lasers in their wake; one missile explodes from the hammering blows but the other races in. The missile impacts on the side of the vessel and pounds it mercilessly. Flaming pieces are blasted into the void as sparks and escaping atmosphere is vented into space. Alarms hoot all over the damaged vessel as the controllers struggle to regain control over the battle.
“DAMNMIT” screams Razor with fury. “Galatea, are you still operational?! Come in over!”
“We’re still alive and kicking commander,” replies a shaky voice. “Most of our systems are still online and our hull seems to be holding but I don’t think we can survive another volley. We need to end this fast!”
Seeking to press their advantage, the Dominion fighters roar in as they attempt to finish the vessel off and tip the scales in their favor. Several remaining fighters break off from their engagements and roar in as their own vessels directs from the safety of the freighters.
“They’re coming in to finish us!” cries one controller.
“All Wilds form up now!” orders Razor tersely. “Give us those targeting feeds control!”
“We need a few seconds to recalibrate!”
“You don’t have a few seconds!” snaps Razor.
The UED fighters desperately rush to the aid of their vessel as they attempt to hit the incoming fighters. Space is filled with a wave of laser blasts as they try to nail their unseen foes. The dominion fighters merely dodge the futile attempts and roar in on their target.
“We got it!” screams the tactical controller. “Sending your feeds now! Take ‘em out!”
Space immediately becomes a madhouse as the Wilds tear into the attackers with a fury born out of desperation. Missiles crisscross everywhere as laser blasts fly across the void. Several fireballs mark the death of enemy fighters as they succumb to the barrage. One fighter snakes past the defenders and manages to volley off two missiles on the vessel before several lasers shred it.
“Shit! He got two off on us!” Both missiles rapidly close the distance as they remorselessly home in on the crippled vessel.
“I got ‘em!” replies Wild 5 as he throws his fighter over behind them. Lasers lance out from the guns of his fighter as he attempts to down the warheads. One laser pierces a missile and rips it apart. The last missile slams against the battered vessel and pushes itself into the interior. A massive fireball is created in its wake as large pieces are blasted off from the intense shockwave. The vessel seemingly shudders from the massive explosion while several breached decks add fuel to the raging inferno as the vessel slowly drifts out of control.
“F***! Galatea?! Come in Galatea!. Anyone still alive there?!” urgently asks Razor.
A fuzzy image and static filled image of a bloodied officer materializes on his display as fires and smoke rage around him in the background “We’re bare… here… mander… are senso… still online I think... the info… might be off but… it’s as good as… gets.”
“Barely reading you but we’ll take what you’ve got! Let’s finish this!” snarls Razor as he orders his squad onto the offensive. Despite their advantage in numbers, skill is on the side of the UED as they make quick work of the last attacking fighters.
“Saki! Reading one on your tail!” screams Wild 5. “Break right and climb now!”
Wild 6 responds but not before a missile streaks across space to explode in his wake. Fragments from the exploding missile tear into his fighter and shreds his craft. His cloak drops with a shimmer of energy, as the entire rear is set ablaze. Fires rage over his battered craft as his wraith tumbles out of control.
“Shit I’m hit!” screams Wild 6 with panic in his voice. “I’m punching out!” he yells as he ejects just as his cockpit is engulfed in fire scorching his flightsuit. His wraith disappears in a blinding explosion mere seconds later.
“Saki is down! I repeat Saki is down!” announces Wild 8 as he drops onto the tail of the Dominion fighter. The fighter tries to dodge but a line of lasers is stitched along the midsection and the fighter is ripped into two flaming halves. “We’ve got a friendly EV over here! I’m marking with a beacon! Notify the transports.”
“Got it Sean,” replies Razor. “Is he ok?”
“Looks ok boss but he needs a ride.”
“Roger that. His ride is on its way.”
“That’s it Wilds, just read… four more Domin… fighters covering their vessels in… area,” states a controller with a sigh of relief.
“Ok, let’s do this job and get the hell out of here, I’m hungry. All Wilds form up and cover the transports, it’s time to go shopping.” The remaining Wilds slip into escort position around the marine transports as they begin their assault on the supply ships.
Keying his comm to the other squadrons, he asks for a status report. “How’s it going on your end Sultan?”
“What a bunch of rookies over here,” comes the reply with contempt in his voice. “Just cleaning up on this end Randall. We lost four of our wraiths and our science vessel took a pounding but we got it under control now.”
“Good job Raj. We’re assaulting the supply ships now. I’ve got one pilot EV and the Galatea is going to need a major paint job but we got ‘em.” replies Razor with a broad grin. “Secure the area while we board.”
“Got it boss man.”
“Galatea, how’re you doing?”
“Don’t… worry… us Razor, we’ve got… of the fires under control now… we should have… engines back online aga… long before we… to leave this area,” comes the static filled reply from the commander of the battered vessel.
“Roger that. Send us those feeds on those last few fighters. Those have got to go in the first volley.”
“Sending… now, go… ‘em!”
The battle is quick and violent. Despite the poor odds, the Dominion pilots still fight bravely to the last. The fighters are soon blasted out of existence in white-hot explosions from a volley of laser and missile fire. One science vessel is literally hammered to pieces by the impact of four missiles and simply winks out of existence. Dozens of laser blasts are turned on the last surviving science vessel and stitch across the hull. Power is immediately lost on the vessel as several shots pierce the interior. The now blackened vessel is left to drift dead in space. Meanwhile, the Wilds continue to effortlessly evade sporadic cannon fire and immediately begin to systematically destroy the defensive turrets on the cargo ships. Cannons are blasted off the hulls with small fires burning in their wake. Eventually, all defensive fire is silenced giving the raiders a free run.
“All clear now Marine lead. They’re all yours.”
“Thanks Razor,” comes the reply as the marine transports rocket ahead to board the now defenseless ships. The assault crafts latch onto the sides of the ships as a shower of sparks is emitted as cutting torches carve out an entrance.
Staring at the blackened vessel drifting in space, Razor gets an idea. “Hey Marine lead, can you spare some troops for that science vessel?” asks Razor with interest.
“Sure, we can spare some. You looking to buy or are you just pricing?” asks the marine commander with a grin.
“I think I’ll take it. I like the styling,” replies Razor with a laugh. On command one transport veers off and proceeds toward the crippled vessel. The other raiders have penetrated the hulls of the cargo ships and move in to claim the supplies on board. Facing well-armed foes, the civilian crews instead elect to not interfere and in some cases, voluntarily assist them.
“It looks like we got away pretty clean on this one boss,” states Wild 7
“Yup. And it looks like we might even manage to snag a new vessel in the process Mike,” says Razor as he watches the raider transport dock with the disabled research ship.
“We did good Randall,” proudly states Wild 7 as he shows a thumbs up.”
“Forget the vessel!” shouts Squeezer, “I’m praying that there’s some cold beer in those ships! You have any idea how long it’s been since I had a decent drink?”
A chorus of laughter fills the fighter comm channels as the tension slowly is bleed off. Razor can not help but laugh himself as he continues to watch the cargo transfer with detached interest; yet another successful mission for the UED.
***
Meanwhile back on the bridge of the Hyperion, others are cashing in on the success of the UED mission.
“Ok, give it up now. Come on, you too Brad,” states Raynor with a sly grin while he collects his winnings. Most of the crew reluctantly hands over their credits as they grumble to themselves over the loss.
“I still don’t believe it. They were outnumbered big-time and they still pull out a win,” states his XO as he slowly shakes his head in disbelief. “You know Jim, I think they’re going to work out just fine.”
“They’ve definitely got the skills but let’s not be too hasty there Bill,” replies Raynor as he watches the UED finish up while he counts his new found wealth. “We still have yet to find out what their agenda is these days. Remember we’re looking for allies, not pirate bands,” he adds.
“Got it boss. But you’ve got to wonder how many of them are still left. Hell, they might even have most of their fleet still intact… that’s an awful lot of firepower if I remember correctly,” states his XO.
“True,” Raynor concedes, “but then why haven’t we heard of them until now Bill. They’ve been keeping a low profile all these years and we’ve got to find out why that is. I don’t want another repeat of the last time if I have anything to say about it."
“Maybe be we should just let the UED and the Dominion just duke it out while we bat clean-up,” states his XO with a chuckle.
“What, and have this sector reduced to free-floating dust particles? No thank you. I’d like to think I’d have a possible home to settle down when all this is over Bill,” replies Raynor as he takes another sip of coffee and makes a sour face. “Man, why does this always have to happen to me. And to think I could’ve had a normal boring life,” he says as he laughs softly.
“Yup… the galaxy just keeps getting more interesting everyday Bill,” says Raynor as he contemplates the days ahead.
