Wing Commander: Death's Breath
C.A. Hall, callsign Outsider, has been a fan of Wing Commander since seeing his cousin playing Wing Commander III: The Heart of the Tiger in the mid-90s. From that time he has been a faithful follower. Now he delievers a short story to prelude an upcoming Wing Commander series, Wing Commander: No Way Home. He hopes you enjoy Death's Breath.
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Characters:
Captain Pete Holmes (Captain, TCS Vanguard)
Major Chip Richardson, "Havoc" (Squadron Commander, VF-234)
Captain Aaragon Pierce, "Hammer" (Squadron Executive, VF-234)
First Lieutenant Adam Priest, "Preacher" (Pilot, VF-234)
Second Lieutenant Erin Sweet, "Hottie" (Pilot, VF-234)
First Lieutenant Tyler Breathen (Team Leader, Marine Corps Unit 184)
Sergeant Billy Coates (Soldier, Marine Corps Unit 184)
Private First Class Dave Jones, "DJ" (Soldier, Marine Corps Unit 184)
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Part I: The Ambush
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Bridge, TCS Vanguard
Deep Space, Draga System
0710 hours (CST), 2668.360
Captain Pete Holmes leaned over the map table as it outlined a plan for a quick strike against a Kilrathi suppy convoy. It would pass very close to his ship's patrol route. The TCS Vanguard had been operating on radio silence for the last thirty-six hours, having broken from its taskforce two days before. Though the Vanguard was getting older in service age it still had plenty of fight left in it.
Pete had served aboard the Vanguard for the past four years. He had come aboard as a lieutenant commander to act as tactical officer. Within three years he was promoted to full commander. He was assigned later as the carrier's flight officer and then as executive officer. Eight months ago he made full bird captain and given the Vanguard as his first command, its former captain now a commodore serving back in Sol System. This was truely his ship. He knew it inside and out, weakness and strengths, what she could and couldn't do.
"Status," asked Captain Holmes, not moving his eyes from the map table.
His executive officer spoke up. "Fighters still on the desk, six Arrows, along with the two Longbows."
"And the convoy?"
"Late," answered the tactical officer.
Pete didn't like that. When things got delayed or didn't go as planned it made him worry. Heck, any commander would worry. It was in their nature. He was risking his ship and the lifes of his crew to make a small, but needed blow to the Kilrathi here in this system. He was too far away from his support and his own supply lines. So many things could go wrong this far from his own friends. He couldn't just pick up a headset, call the Kilrathi, saying, "Hey, where is your convoy? I have a schedule to keep!" It was a waiting game, a game he didn't like to play.
The Vanguard sat right infront of the Draga sun, straight in the path the convoy should take. When it, the convoy, jumped in the carrier would hit the lead ships with a barrage of torpedo and laser fire, the Arrows would launch with Longbows right behind. The Arrows would draw fire and take care of any escort fighters, leaving the Longbows to drop their loads of torpedos. Pete holed it would all just take one pass to finish the job. A five minute operation tops, he told himself.
Red lights began to flash, snapping the Vanguard captain out of his thought process. "Incoming," announced the tactical officer.
Captain Holmes looked hard at his map table again, not out the windows around him. Images began to appear on the table as ships emerged through the jump. But what he saw was not four Dralthi's escorting three cargo transports. No, it was much worse. "Scrabble all fighters! Scrabble them all, dammit," he ordered to his staff. The flight officer was already on the communications link relaying orders to all reserve pilots to get to their fighters. They would launch a total of twenty-four total. The six Arrows already on the deck were already off, rocketing towards the enemy.
What he saw was bad, very bad. In front of him was not the Kilrathi convoy, but a fraking battlegroup: a carrier with two destroyers, three frigates, and a few smaller support craft. Already the Kilrathi had a total of thirty-six fighters steaming towards his ship and crew. Things had gone wrong.
C.A. Hall, callsign Outsider, has been a fan of Wing Commander since seeing his cousin playing Wing Commander III: The Heart of the Tiger in the mid-90s. From that time he has been a faithful follower. Now he delievers a short story to prelude an upcoming Wing Commander series, Wing Commander: No Way Home. He hopes you enjoy Death's Breath.
-------------------------
Characters:
Captain Pete Holmes (Captain, TCS Vanguard)
Major Chip Richardson, "Havoc" (Squadron Commander, VF-234)
Captain Aaragon Pierce, "Hammer" (Squadron Executive, VF-234)
First Lieutenant Adam Priest, "Preacher" (Pilot, VF-234)
Second Lieutenant Erin Sweet, "Hottie" (Pilot, VF-234)
First Lieutenant Tyler Breathen (Team Leader, Marine Corps Unit 184)
Sergeant Billy Coates (Soldier, Marine Corps Unit 184)
Private First Class Dave Jones, "DJ" (Soldier, Marine Corps Unit 184)
-------------------------
Part I: The Ambush
-------------------------
Bridge, TCS Vanguard
Deep Space, Draga System
0710 hours (CST), 2668.360
Captain Pete Holmes leaned over the map table as it outlined a plan for a quick strike against a Kilrathi suppy convoy. It would pass very close to his ship's patrol route. The TCS Vanguard had been operating on radio silence for the last thirty-six hours, having broken from its taskforce two days before. Though the Vanguard was getting older in service age it still had plenty of fight left in it.
Pete had served aboard the Vanguard for the past four years. He had come aboard as a lieutenant commander to act as tactical officer. Within three years he was promoted to full commander. He was assigned later as the carrier's flight officer and then as executive officer. Eight months ago he made full bird captain and given the Vanguard as his first command, its former captain now a commodore serving back in Sol System. This was truely his ship. He knew it inside and out, weakness and strengths, what she could and couldn't do.
"Status," asked Captain Holmes, not moving his eyes from the map table.
His executive officer spoke up. "Fighters still on the desk, six Arrows, along with the two Longbows."
"And the convoy?"
"Late," answered the tactical officer.
Pete didn't like that. When things got delayed or didn't go as planned it made him worry. Heck, any commander would worry. It was in their nature. He was risking his ship and the lifes of his crew to make a small, but needed blow to the Kilrathi here in this system. He was too far away from his support and his own supply lines. So many things could go wrong this far from his own friends. He couldn't just pick up a headset, call the Kilrathi, saying, "Hey, where is your convoy? I have a schedule to keep!" It was a waiting game, a game he didn't like to play.
The Vanguard sat right infront of the Draga sun, straight in the path the convoy should take. When it, the convoy, jumped in the carrier would hit the lead ships with a barrage of torpedo and laser fire, the Arrows would launch with Longbows right behind. The Arrows would draw fire and take care of any escort fighters, leaving the Longbows to drop their loads of torpedos. Pete holed it would all just take one pass to finish the job. A five minute operation tops, he told himself.
Red lights began to flash, snapping the Vanguard captain out of his thought process. "Incoming," announced the tactical officer.
Captain Holmes looked hard at his map table again, not out the windows around him. Images began to appear on the table as ships emerged through the jump. But what he saw was not four Dralthi's escorting three cargo transports. No, it was much worse. "Scrabble all fighters! Scrabble them all, dammit," he ordered to his staff. The flight officer was already on the communications link relaying orders to all reserve pilots to get to their fighters. They would launch a total of twenty-four total. The six Arrows already on the deck were already off, rocketing towards the enemy.
What he saw was bad, very bad. In front of him was not the Kilrathi convoy, but a fraking battlegroup: a carrier with two destroyers, three frigates, and a few smaller support craft. Already the Kilrathi had a total of thirty-six fighters steaming towards his ship and crew. Things had gone wrong.