Battle at Tidberphal

Battle at Tidberphal

Captain Iroga sat in the command seat of the starship watching the world explode in front of them; she knew they couldn’t fix it, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t try. She checked the fleet status console and saw that both Alliance destroyers were fully engaged with their Celurian counterparts. They would be unable to deploy troop transports down to the planet to reinforce the regiments that were pinned down.

The small two-person Scout ship, Hoverfly, was high above the atmosphere of the contested planet, Tidberphal. The main battle between alliance forces and the Celurian was taking place on the southern edge of the larger, eastern continent. She gave the order to her young pilot, “Shall we go try and rescue some marines?”

The young man at the front of the bridge responded, “Yes ma’am. Which site should we go for?”

Fresco was on his first mission with the Terran Scouts; it should have been an ordinary survey of the asteroids of the system. Instead, the tenuous peace that had existed between the two forces had evaporated as suddenly as a flash of lightning. The Celurians infiltrated the system with their powerful dreadnoughts. They showed up suddenly using their cloaking technology and deployed their forces to the planet. The Terran Alliance responded quickly with two line destroyers, the Tibarra and the Eloria. While the Alliance destroyers weren’t able to get past the Celurians, at least they were preventing more of their troops from being deployed to the planet. The Hoverfly avoided detection by virtue of its small size and location in the asteroid belt.

Iroga brought up the map of the combat zone on the main screen. She looked it over and gave the order, “Take us into Camp Charlie-Alpha. Go down hard and fast, with shields up.”

Fresco aimed the nose of the triangular-shaped vessel downwards and engaged the two main thrusters. Within seconds the Hoverfly was moving through the clouds at a blistering pace. As they closed in on their destination, they were buffeted by blasts from the Celurians’ surface-to-air silos.

Fresco diverted his eyes to the status display and reported, “Shields holding, ma’am.”

“Excellent, they have revealed too much. Lay down a double layer of grapeshot as we pass over. Make a hard landing behind the marines’ encampment.”

Fresco took the Hoverfly low and fast over the Celurians and released two barrages of explosives at their positions. It slammed down at the rear of the marines’ camp.

Iroga commended her pilot, “Well done Fresco. Lower shields and deploy the turrets. Let’s provide some cover for the troops. I’ll go back and open the hatch. You be ready to take off at my mark.”

By the time she got back to the cargo bay, opened the airlock and deployed the ramp, the ship’s turret was already deploying shrapnel towards the Celurians. The odor of burning everything was ripe in the air, and the thick smoke made it hard to see without the visual aids in the headgear that she pulled on. She retrieved an impulse rifle from the weapons locker and moved down the ramp into the acrid camp. She saw and heard the sergeant give the orders for the troops to fall back to the ship. Iroga, along with several uninjured marines, provided more cover for the troops as they hurried in. They carried the wounded and dead with them. After just a couple of minutes, all the marines had abandoned the camp and were in the Hoverfly.

Iroga couldn’t see the platoon’s Lieutenant, so she addressed the Sergeant, “The medical locker is right behind you. The mess is just forward. Tend to your wounded and try not to drink all our beer. We’ll be at the rear base in thirty.”

The sergeant grinned, “I make no promises on that score. It was a glorious sight, seeing your bird fly in. I’ve never wanted to kiss a scout before, but I might just make an exception.”

The tall, lean, blond Scout laughed at the burly woman, covered in grime and sweat, “Once you get cleaned up, I might make you regret that offer. Hang on for now, we’re heading out.”

She raised the ramp, secured the airlock, and alerted Fresco to take off. As she headed forward to the bridge, she heard the sergeant shouting orders, “Corporal, get the kit. Let’s make sure that crazy brass lives to get his medals!”

They were airborne by time she was seated in her command chair at the rear of the bridge. She asked, “Status, pilot?”

“We took a few hits, but no serious damage. She held firm. Should we deploy more grapeshot on our way out.”

“No, we need to conserve that in case we encounter resistance on the way to the base. Take us there, low and fast.”

She radioed ahead, “Alliance Base Tidberphal. This is Captain Iroga of the Scout ship Hoverfly. We’re coming in with wounded needing medical attention. Our ETA is …”, and she paused.

Fresco shouted, “Twenty minutes.”

The shrill voice of a Naylorian radio technician came back, “We’re on it, Captain. Hold for the Colonel.”

Only a few seconds later a deep voice spoke, “This is Colonel Dernhelm. Impressive work at the camp. I can tell you there was much cheering when you dropped in. The Celurians targeted both of our birds in their initial attacks, and we had no way of extracting the troops. We’ll have the medical team waiting for your arrival. Is there anything else we should have ready for you?”

Iroga replied, “We used up most of our grapeshot in the strafing run. Can you resupply our ordnance chamber for our run over to Bravo-Tango?”

“We’ll be ready for you. Do you have any info on the casualties?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t. I’ll patch you through to Sergeant Dorian. She’s with the troops back in the cargo bay.”

Iroga opened a line to the cargo bay, “Sergeant, Colonel Dernhelm on the line for you.”

“Yes ma’am. I’m ready for him.”

Iroga turned her attention back to the route and her pilot. As they approached the alliance base, she cautioned Fresco, “Let’s make the landing soft, we don’t know the situation of the wounded back in the cargo bay.”

Without averting his eyes from the screen or his hands from the piloting controls, Fresco replied calmly, “Wilco, ma’am.”

They approached the base and the same Naylorian tech came on, “Hoverfly, you are cleared to land at delta position. The spotting lights are on, all the teams are in position.”

Fresco answered, “Roger, Tidberphal. Coordinates set.”

Fresco set the ship down, opened the airlock, and the ramp slid down. Iroga congratulated her young pilot, “Well done Fresco. It’s no wonder you were the top-rated Pilot in the academy. I’ve seen Scouts with twenty years' service who couldn’t have done better.”

He smiled at the compliment from his seasoned commander, “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Let’s secure the bridge and see what damage the Celurians did to our beautiful ship.”

They made their way back through the ship past their quarters and the mess into the cargo bay. It was already teeming with medical personnel attending to the Lieutenant and the many wounded soldiers. They eased through the mayhem and down the short ramp. Colonel Dernhelm was waiting for them when they stepped on the tarmac.

The marine officer gave them a crisp salute, and said, “Impressive work Captain, Pilot. I thought our teams were done for, but you swooped in and saved them all.”

Iroga returned the salute, “Thanks for the kind words, Colonel. I hope they won’t give you a dishonorable discharge for saying such nice things about Scouts.”

The colonel laughed heartily, “That’s a big risk. I hope I can count on your discretion.”

“Scouts are the soul of discretion. We’ll head out to Bravo-Tango as soon as our ordnance locker is resupplied.”

“We’ll send a nurse and a corpsman with you. I’d send our field surgeon, but she’s busy with this platoon. The reports from Bravo-Tango are better than they were from Charlie-Alpha. I’m going to check on my injured and will see you when you make it back.”

He headed inside the Hoverfly, while Iroga and Fresco began the external inspection of the vessel. He crept underneath with his scanner while she did the same around the hull, starting at the stern working her way around. They met back at the stern to compare notes. She went first, “Nothing major around the sides. Anything below?”

“There were a few minor dents, but the shields held their own.”

They watched closely as the weapons techs carefully loaded the bags of grapeshot into the ordnance trays. When they were released in a strafing run, the bags would disintegrate in the air pressure dispersing the incendiary loads over the target. By the time the techs finished, all the casualties had been removed from the ship. The med team with red arm bands over their marine grays stood waiting with their equipment by the ramp.

Iroga went over to them and returned their salutes. She led them up the ramp while telling them, “Strap yourselves in tight; it’ll be a rough ride over there.”

They deployed the auxiliary seats at the rear of the now empty cargo bay. The two marines moved to them as the scouts went forward to the bridge. When they were seated Iroga contacted the marines, “Are you strapped in?”

The nurse replied, “Yes, ma’am. We’re good to go!”

Then she ordered Fresco, “Take us up to twenty kilometers. Then down hard and fast to Bravo-Tango.”

Fresco gave an enthusiastic, “Yes ma’am.”

She checked the scans and added, “There’s a Celurian patrol ship in the area, but just ignore it. We’ll go by too fast for those assholes to do anything.”

He laughed, “I see them. I won’t hit the retros until we’re well past them. They won’t even see us at our speed.”

As predicted, the large, slow Celurian gunship barely moved as the Hoverfly sped past, within a few kilometers. They performed the same maneuver as before, releasing a double layer of grapeshot in their strafing run over the Celurian camp. The ship was rocked by a near direct hit from the silo, but the shields deflected much of the impact.

The Hoverfly slammed down at the rear of the camp. They lowered shields and deployed their turret again to provide cover for the retreating marines.

By the time Iroga made it back to the cargo bay, the two queasy marines were just beginning to unstrap. The nurse told her, “You weren’t lying; that was quite a ride, Captain.”

She laughed at his pallid face, “I’ll make sure to pass along your compliments to the pilot! You two stay here. Your patients are on the way, and they’ll need you.”

She grabbed a rifle from the weapons locker and headed down the ramp. When she got there, the marines were already making their way back. The turret was providing cover over the marines towards enemy combatants. The soldiers beat an orderly retreat to the safety of the Hoverfly, which was firing continuous rounds of impact explosives from its turret. Once all of the wounded and killed soldiers had made their way inside the cargo bay, the Lieutenant ended his covering fire and limped up the ramp. Iroga put her arm around him to provide support, and she closed the ship and radioed up to Fresco, “Take us back to Tidberphal Base, serpentine pattern Charlie. Half-speed; we don’t want to bounce around too much back here.”

The young Lieutenant leaned back against the bullhead and gingerly removed his helmet, revealing his short blond hair, and yellow skin typical of the Soletians. He saw Iroga’s concern when she viewed his sweaty countenance was also coated in so much blood that he appeared to have an orange glow. He slid down to the floor and told her, “I’m fine Captain. My minor injuries can wait until we’re back at base.

But she was having none of it. Without taking her eyes of the wounded man, she shouted, “Corpsman, see to the Lieutenant before he bleeds all over my beautiful ship.”

She shouted back, “Be right there. Just finishing up with this broken leg.”

Iroga knelt next to him with her hand on her shoulder, and told him, “That’s enough bravery for today. Sit back and let her take care of you.”

He groaned in pain, put his head back, and closed his eyes. When the corpsman came to them, Iroga left the mayhem of the cargo bay to head forward to the bridge.

Fresco brought up a visual of the stationary Celurian gunship hovering in the distance on the main view screen. He announced, anticipating an affirmative response, “Missiles ready, Captain. Should we take it out?”

She disappointed him by saying, “No, they held their fire while we cleared the field. We’ll do the same. Send up a blue signal flare.”

He failed to hide it when he glumly responded, “Yes ma’am.”

As they headed back towards the base, they saw the Celurians had responded with their own blue signal flare. Iroga took the opportunity to teach her young pilot, “We won’t always be at war with the Celurians. Their commander will remember that we didn’t fire our missiles at them when we had the chance for an easy kill; just as I will remember that they didn’t fire on our troops when we were pulling out. Every little bit we can do to resolve this war, is a benefit.”

He wasn’t entirely convinced, but said, “I understand. Thanks for explaining.”

She opened a channel back to the base; she was surprised with Colonel Dernhelm was on the other end, "Colonel, we’ve cleared the camp. We’ll be arriving in …”

Fresco shouted back, “Fifteen minutes.”

Dernhelm replied, “Good news Captain. Is Lieutenant Deixut available?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it. The corpsman was treating his injuries when we left.”

“Copy that. We’ll be ready when you land.”

“Hoverfly out.”

Dernhelm was there to meet them when they lowered the ramp. He hugged many of the soldiers and gave a few encouraging words to Lieutenant Deixut as he passed by on a stretcher. After all the wounded and deceased had passed by, he turned to Iroga, “Captain, our troops at the remaining base are holding their own. I want to bring reinforcements. Captain N’Tenga here believes we can squeeze two platoons into the cargo bay. Can you take us in?”

Iroga looked over at the stout man in the green uniform who barely glanced up from his tablet, and said, “Far be it from me to disagree with the calculations of an engineering officer. We’ll head over to Camp Easy-Papa as soon as our ordnance is replenished.”

Dernhelm gave the orders, and in addition to the marines moving up the ramp, the engineers loaded several large crates containing mobile armored weapon encasements. Within ten minutes, both platoons of marines were crammed into the cargo bay at the rear of the small triangular-shaped vessel. A small group of engineers in green uniforms stood out among the mass of marines in their grays with similar colored field armor. Iroga made her way up the ramp and was surprised to see Dernhelm in his field armor following along.

She asked, “Do you want to come up to the bridge with us?”

“No, I’ll be back here with my troops.”

Iroga squeezed through the throng of marines like a blue fish in a sea of gray. She emerged and went forward past the crowded mess and the crew quarters to the bridge. She sat on the chair at the rear of the bridge and gave the order, “Pilot, take us directly to Camp Easy-Papa at full speed. What is our ETA?”

Fresco checked has navigation console and reported, “We’ll be there in eight minutes.”

She opened a channel to the cargo bay and announced that information. Fresco engaged the thrusters, and they rapidly accelerated to full speed. They were near the camp and she opened a channel, “Easy-Papa, the is the Hoverfly. We’ll touch down at the rear landing area with reinforcements. Colonel Dernhelm is on board. Be ready for him.”

The crisp reply came through, “Yes, ma’am. Captain Ergot is expecting him.”

As soon as the ship slid to a stop, they opened the doors and lowered the ramp. The platoons headed out, and the engineers were pulling their equipment to begin assembly. They noticed it was quieter than expected and a sturdy young woman came forward to meet them. She saluted Dernhelm and Iroga in turn, “Welcome to the camp. The Celurians have just stopped their assault and launched a blue signal flare. What do you make of it?”

Dernhelm was silent momentarily, but then spoke calmly, “That’s welcome news, Captain. They’re ready to talk. Respond in kind. Send up a blue signal flare.”

Ergot gave the order, and within a few minute they could see a pair of Celurians moving forward across the barren landscape in full dress uniforms. They weren’t wearing armor, so their headtails sat forward on their shoulders. Dernhelm told them, “Well, Captain Iroga, Captain Ergot; shall we go meet some Celurians?”