Fiction Home - More by Anton "Viper" Moore - More in Action and Aventure

Major General Conner sat in his simulator cockpit waiting for the sim to begin. What could be taking so long? He thought to himself. He was conducting a routine training sim with Nova squadron, or so he thought. Little did he know that only ten meters away Generals Taylor and Moore were strapping into their own sim pods.

* * * * *

General Mike "Viper" Moore finished strapping in. His handle "Viper" was a hold over from his days as a Marine Corps aviator, as was the design on his helmet. The wide-open mouth of a snake, the fangs dripping with blood. Like many of the unit's personnel he was an Earth native. Today he and Nick Taylor would be flying TIE Fighters against the members of Nova squadron, the newly designated B-Wing squadron assigned to the unit. Every once and awhile General Taylor liked to throw a wild card into these training sims.

The instruments lit up and the star pattern appeared on the simulator's cockpit windscreen. The battle was on.

Nova squadron was tasked to destroy an imperial spaceport. They would have to go through two squadrons of TIEs to do it.

* * * * *

Conner rolled his B-Wing bomber to port and cut down to the ecliptic plane, intending to catch the fighters from below. With him went Nova's second flight of four bombers.

* * * * *

"Rogue, Vipe, I got a flight of crosses trying to take us from below," General Moore reported.

"Copy that Vipe, I'll hold ‘em up. You keep going, I'll catch up," Taylor said over the comm system.

"Copy that," Moore didn't like it, but he knew that General Taylor had the advantage. His fighter was faster and more manoeuvrable than the B-Wing bombers. Plus he could shoot at anything, the pilots of those crosses would have to pick their shots with care, less they hit one of their squad mates.

Moore adjusted the controls, making a flight from each squadron move back slightly. He now had a four flights up, two back arrangement. Adjusting his throttle and dropping back between the two reserve flights, General Moore provided himself with a shield of fighters.

* * * * *

Ten minutes later it was all over. The Novas had won this one, but with heavier than expected losses. Nine bombers disabled or destroyed. Conner himself listed among the losses, having been felled by General Taylor's simulated blaster cannons, but the two -star's only kill just happened to be General Moore's TIE. By tradition Nova Six, who had now kills to show for this sim, would buy the drinks.

* * * * *

"All stand," the MP said as the military tribunal entered.

"This tribunal is now in session," the admiral seated in the centre called. "Captain Smith, you stand accused of two counts of gross misconduct and one count of dereliction of duty. Has an agreement been reached?"

"Yes, your honour," the prosecuting attorney called out, "If the defendant will plead out to one count of gross misconduct prosecution will drop the other charges."

"Is this acceptable?" the admiral asked.

"Yes, your honour," Captain Smith said.

"Very well, the court will take a recess."

* * * * *

It was a short recess, Smith noted. Most likely he would be removed from command and demoted. Maybe some brig time, too.

"This tribunal has reached its decision," It was the admiral again. "Will the accused please stand. Captain Smith, this tribunal finds you guilty of one count of gross misconduct. You will be reduced in rank to Commander and removed from command of the Ashleigh. You will however be instated as first officer of the Ashleigh until such time that a suitable captain is found. That is all."

A wave of relief passed over now Commander Mike Smith. After all, command was still command. Temporary or not.

* * * * *

General Samem, commanding officer of Alpha Elite wasn't feeling much relief at the moment. Her unit had run into yet another Goa'uld trap. AE had an uncanny ability to walk right into them.

Samem jammed another magazine into her MP-5 and pulled the charging handle. "Blow the mines!" she screamed at the tech sergeant behind her.

The sergeant pushed the detonate button on the control device for the Claymore mines planted around the perimeter of the Stargate. The mines detonated, showering the attacking Jaffa with metal ball bearings, taking about a dozen of them out.

"Back through the gate! Go, go, go!" she yelled. Samem continued to fire, catching a Jaffa with four rounds in the chest. Seeing that all the rest of her unit was already through the gate, Samem turned and dived through. She exited the other side and rolled down the ramp shouting, "Close the iris! Close the iris!"

Behind her the Trinium iris scythed closed, and the gate deactivated. Samem got up and headed for the debriefing room.

* * * * *

Across the hall in the mission briefing room the four pilots of Rogue Squadron's two flight - Rogues 5, 6, 7, and 8 - sat receiving their briefing from General Moore. Present also were the pilot and co-pilot of the shuttle Ultima.

"Your mission is relatively simple. The X-Wings are to protect the Ultima on its run to Coruscant to retrieve Commander Smith and the new skipper of the Ashleigh, and again on its run to Mon Calamari. Questions?" General Moore concluded.

Rogue 5 raised her hand, "Who's the new captain, sir?"

"Command hasn't seen fit to tell me that Lieutenant."

"Sorry, sir," she settled back into her seat.

"Any more questions? Good," General Moore pushed a button on his data pad, "You now have the specifics. Good luck." He walked out, leaving the pilots to speculate on the identity of the new captain.

Waiting for him out in the hall was General Catherine "Neith" Craig, Rogue Squadron's executive officer.

"AE walked into an ambush again. Hammond's debriefing Samem as we speak," she told him.

"Could there be a spy in AE?" Moore asked her.

"Other than ours you mean?"

"Yes, ma'am," he'd forgotten about that.

"Possible, but highly unlikely. Probably just stupidity," General Craig said.

"I don't think so Neith. They may be many things, but AE isn't stupid," Moore replied.

* * * * *

As the departure clock started ticking down, pilots began pre-flight checks and permission rituals. One by one pilots started strapping into their acceleration couches. There was an eagerness among the crews, each pilot wanting to be the first to learn the identity of the new skipper of the Ashleigh, and who would win the pool.

Flight control began assigning exit vectors and soon all five spacecraft were out of Earth's atmosphere. A few minutes later they cleared the gravity well and shot into hyperspace.

* * * * *

Back on the ground General Craig watched the displays as the symbols representing the fighters and the shuttle winked out.

"All five craft have entered hyperspace," the officer on duty called out.

Neith continued to stare at the display for another minute, then turned and exited the CIC. She walked down the corridor to her quarters. Time for bed, she thought.

* * * * *

General Taylor was sitting in his office reviewing Samem's mission debriefing when the call came.

"They're away, sir," Lt. Commander Brown's voice came over the phone line.

"Thanks Nef," Rogue said aloud to the speakerphone.

"No problem, sir."

* * * * *

"General Moore, report to the briefing room."

Mike rolled over in his bed to look at the clock, "Two A.M.! What the hell could they want at two in the morning?"

He rolled out of bed and made his way to the small bathroom in his quarters. Splashing water on his face, he looked up into the mirror and realized he hadn't shaved in two days. He decided to do it later since they wouldn't have woken him up this early if it weren't important.

He walked out of his quarters while pulling on his uniform jacket, and headed down the hall to the elevator.

The elevator stopped on the next level down to admit someone, and when the doors opened Lt. Commander Zowie "Nef" Brown was waiting.

"Hey Nef," Moore greeted her as he walked in.

"Heyya Mike, I see they woke you up, too," she said.

"Yea, know what it's about?" Viper asked her.

"No, sir, I thought you would know."

Moore pushed the button for level 28. "Nef, at two in the morning I don't know much. My brain is still asleep," he said.

* * * * *

Generals Hammond, Craig, and Taylor were already waiting in the briefing room when the two arrived.

"Ah, General Moore, Commander Brown, so good of you to join us," Hammond said as they walked in.

"General, next time you call me into the BR this early in the morning, I'm going to revolt." Moore told him.

"He'll do it, too," Neith observed.

"Please begin the briefing general," Nick Taylor interrupted.

"Approximately forty minutes ago we received a distress call from our astronomical observatory on P92-38T1," Hammond began the briefing. "They reported landing craft deploying tank-type heavy weapons platforms. Alpha Elite has already been scrambled, they are embarking as we speak, to their off-world equipment storage site, and will mate up with their eMAT weapons platforms. In thirty minutes Rogue Squadron will move through the gate to your own OWES site and mate up with your armoured vehicles. You will then proceed back through the gate to P92-38T1 and meet up with AE to defend our outpost."

General Moore spoke up, "What about air cover, sir? Our only 4 operational fighters are off on a mission."

"The outpost has six Hawk Guided Missile batteries, and the SAMs on the eMATs should keep the skies clear of gliders."

* * * * *

As the Ultima cam out of hyperspace the crew received a message from ground control that they would only have one passenger. Commander Smith had been reinstated as captain of the Ashleigh. His replacement, Captain Derrick, had been reassigned.

Their moods lighted by this turn of events, the crew prepared to descend to the spaceport.

* * * * *

The Rogue Squadron command officers stood watching the procession of armoured vehicles as they passed through the Stargate.

General Taylor watched a particularly fat Air Force sergeant wave a C-47A1 APC into line using lighted batons.

"Run this by me again. How are we going to set this up?" he asked General Moore.

"Two eMATs and six APCs as a recon line, our eMATs set about twenty or thirty yards in front of the AE tracks and all the APCs. Since the one-forty-fives on the AE tracks have about three times the range of our Bushmasters, we can use them as light artillery," Moore told him.

"What about us?" Neith asked.

"There are three C-47A2 "God" tracks. They have better armour and a whole load of commo gear," he said. "I'm going to be in one of the lead eMATs."

"Leading from the front?" Taylor asked.

"Yes, sir."

* * * * *

On the other side of the gate Alpha Elite had already positioned its sixteen M31A2 eMATs along a ridge between the landing site and the observatory. Two C-47s were ahead of the line, playing the reconnaissance role until the RS APCs and eMATs could relieve them. The remaining seventeen APCs were set slightly back on the more heavily armoured eMATs.

General Samem surveyed her unit's deployment from the hatch of her "God" track. Her armoured units were painted in woodland and tiger stripe cammo motifs and were not properly suited for the desert climate of the planet. Not that there had been much time to repaint them, most of her unit had been called out of bed when they had been scrambled and many were sleeping in their tracks at the moment.

"General," came a voice from inside the mobile command centre, "Rogue Squadron ‘31s coming through the gate now."

* * * * *

Ten minutes later the RS recon element relieved the two Alpha Elite APCs. The RS eMATs rolled past the AE positions, down the ridge face, and into a gully at the foot of the ridge. This allowed them to fight with just their turrets showing, giving the Goa'uld gunners less of a target to shoot at.

Rogue Squadron's eMATs and APCs were already painted in desert cammo patterns and would blend in while AE's would stand out.

General Moore began hearing reports of enemy units over the comm channel, seconds later they appeared on his IVIS board.

"Wolfpack Six, this is Rogue Six, over."

"Wolfpack Six copies."

"This is Rogue Six Actual you have permission to begin plan Delta, over."

"Wolfpack Six Actual copies."

"Good luck Wolfpack, Rogue out."

Well, its on now, Viper thought as he switched comm frequencies, "Wolfpack, this is Six. Execute plan Delta, repeat plan Delta. Recon screen, start the party."

"Copy that, Six. Recon is moving."

General Moore stuck his head out of his hatch and took a look around. He watched through his binoculars as two commandos fired off their LAWS rockets and retreated up the ramp or their C-47A1.

As the recon screen fell back, the 145mm guns on the Alpha Elite eMATs opened up on the Jaffa tanks. Four death gliders came out of the clouds heading for the AE positions.

"Light off the AEGIS radar! Arm the Stingers! Now!" Moore shouted to his gunner.

"Yes, sir."

On either side of the flat-topped turret, four FIM-92A Stinger Surface-to-Air Missiles poked their noses out of their launch tubes. All down the formation AEGIS radars switched from standby to full alert.

"Target lock, missile away!"

The first missiles fired were Hawk missiles from the HGM vehicles set up near the AE positions. They were followed a second later by the slower Stinger missiles fired from the eMATs. Three of the five Stingers and both Hawk missiles found targets.

* * * * *

Neith and Rogue both stared at the IVIS screen. Both saw the lead echelon of Goa'uld forces disappear.

"It's working Neith, its working," he said.

"Let's hope it keeps working, sir," Neith told him.

The IVIS board showed Viper's eMAT line moving forward to meet the Jaffa formations on the move.

* * * * *

"Gun check," General Moore called to his gunner over the intercom system.

"HEAT rounds."

"Switch to AP. All silver shot till I say different." Viper reached up and dogged his hatch shut.

"Coming into range now, sir," the driver said.

"Copy that. Target. Traverse left. Range twenty-one-hundred meters."

"Up!"

"Fire!" General Moore shouted.

The gunner depressed the butterfly trigger for a for round burst. The 25mm shells hit the Jaffa tank in a neat line down the side, penetrating the armor and shredding its crew.

"Hit! Target. Traverse right. Range two-kay meters."

"Up!"

"Fire!"

The gunner depressed the trigger for the third time in ten seconds, scoring his third kill.

Within minutes of the first shots fired by the recon screen the battle was over. Over fifty Jaffa tanks and personnel carriers lay burning on the battlefield. Friendly casualties were surprisingly light. Only one RS c-47 and one M31A3 were destroyed. One AE eMAT melted its gun tube and sat out the fight.

Gunners with nothing large left to shoot at switched to the coaxial cannons. Commanders began to return fire with the top-mounted 7.62mm machine guns.

General Samem's voice came over the comm unit, "Well done people. The observatory had been evacuated, begin pulling back to the gate."

"Wolfpack, this is Rogue Six Actual. Begin pull back, over."

"Wolfpack Six copies. Six to Wolfpack, you heard the general. Head for the gate. APCs first then eMATs, over."

* * * * *

General Taylor stood at attention as nine Rogue Squadron personnel were laid to rest at the national cemetery. The honour guard fired off its twenty-one-gun salute, and the group began to disperse back to the black unmarked USAF sedans parked on the street.

As his driver pulled away from the curb, Nick thought about all the men that had died under his command. He now had nine new faces to add to that list.