Chapter 18
Somewhere over the Northern Great Plains
Hyper Sonic Transport 636
Sylvester walked the line of Jump Infantry that made up his small command. He knew that outside the Hyper Sonic Transport his sister Terresa was flying top cover protecting him and his troops. They had left the WSRDC seven hours ago and were just now clearing the Artic Circle of New Texas. They had another four hours before they reached their drop zone. So far, all of the insertions had gone to plan. They just had four more drops to go. With his being the last.

“Relax, skipper. You’ve doubled checked our jump rigs so many times that you’re wearing out the speed latches.” One his troops said with a smile. They all knew that this was no ordinary drop sequence. That their lives were riding the edge. Not that it mattered to them. They had all made more than one combat drop. Yet for some reason the men and women could tell that their commander was worried about something. More like he was worried about someone.

Before Sylvester could take issue with the young man that had made the remark his First Sergeant stepped up to him. “Sir, can we talk privately?”

Sylvester just wave towards the front of the HST. Once there he turned to his First Sergeant. “Okay Top. We’re about as private as we can get on this bird.”

“Sir, it’s normally none of my business but when your mind is not on the jump you can get people killed. What’s up your ass?” The man was brutally honest with Sylvester and was expecting an answer.

“I’m just worried about someone on this mission Top. No it’s none of our troopers. There are you happy?”

“To a point sir. Who is it that you’re worried about sir?” Sylvester could tell that the First Sergeant wasn’t going to give. Sylvester just sighed. That was all the First Sergeant needed. “Sir, I know that our top cover is your sister. Look you have to put that shit out of your head, boss. You go into a jump like this worried about her and you don’t come home.”

“Damn it Top! I know that.” Sylvester bitched. “It’s just that this one of the longest escort flights she has ever pulled. She’s out without a wingman flying over enemy controlled territory. We come under attack this rust bucket can pop the hatch and we bailout. We get down and still get the mission done. Terresa on the other hand has to fight her way all the home. She’s good Top, but sooner or later her luck is going to run out. That attack on the base by those Peacemakers damned near killer her then. I know for a fact that she has flown escort for every one of these deep strike drops. All four of them so far. That’s more than twenty-eight hours of flight time in sixty-hours. She’s going to burnout before long. Those new pilots are nowhere near ready to strap into the new Claymores. As it stands right now those fighters are the only ones that can support our operations. That means she is our only support. She goes down and we’re fracked big time, Top. So, don’t tell me that I shouldn’t worry.”

“Damn, sir. I thought you were only worried because she is your sister. I didn’t know that she was pushing the edge that hard. Shit! I don’t think any of us know!”

“Top, you and the other troops aren’t supposed to know. Those DPF pilots that came in the other day are still in their cocoons. They’re not due to pop the lids until sometime later today.” Sylvester sighed. “Look do me a favor. Keep the condition of the pilots under your hat. I know that the guys know that we’re short on pilots right now. I just don’t want them to know just how short we are. Got it?”

“Sure thing, boss. They won’t hear it from me. Not do me a favor and try to put your worries over your sister out of your mind.” Holding up his right hand the First Sergeant listed his reasons. “One, you worry, you lose concentration. Two, you lose concentration, you make mistakes. Three, you make mistakes, people get killed. Four, the more people get killed, the more mistakes. See what I’m getting at here, sir?”

Sylvester sighed. “Yeah, I see where you’re going, Top. I’ll get my head in the game. I just wish we didn’t have to go through with this damned operation. I don’t understand what is so fracking important about getting those bridges.”

“Those three bridges span the Greater Reo Grand gorge sir. Without those bridges it is a seven to ten-day hike to get around the gorge. More than enough time for the Empire to get us a large relief force. Look those two armored cavalry regiments of Tatiana’s Children of the Stars and the one-oh-first aren’t going to be enough to take back this planet, sir. That’s after we throw in those two medium mobile divisions that the New Texans have. I will give the Texans this much. They sure do know how to throw a party for out-of-town guests.” Even Sylvester had to chuckle at the First Sergeant’s party joke.

Before either man could say more the copilot for the HST walked back to them. “Major, Top, we’re two minutes out from our next drop zone.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Mans. Any sign of unfriendlies?” Sylvester asked.

“Just a few UVA’s about thirty klicks out. They’ve been popping up at regular intervals. Best guess would be standard over-flight intel operations. Nothing to worry about. Unless they can pick up our radar signature, which is doubtful, we’re still green for the mission.” The amount of pride in the Lieutenant’s voice over the HST’s stealth capabilities was just the right amount.

“Well, just do us all a favor. If we get pinged and have to go to battle stations. Tell your damned waist and turret gunners to double check their targets. They go shooting at my sister she won’t take it to kindly. She just might save the River Sluts the ammo and shoot us down herself.” Sylvester warned the cocky copilot.

The Lieutenant turned deadly serious as he took in Sylvester’s warning. “That is one thing we DON’T have to worry about. The Captain has already given that order. No offence sir, but me and the rest of the crew don’t trust Flight Lieutenant First Class Terresa Cole as far as we can throw this bird.”

“Why’s that?” The hard edge to Sylvester voice should have been warning enough for the young man.

“Permission to speak freely sir?” Sylvester just nodded to this request. “She is the only living Claymore pilot and has the highest kill rate on all of New Texas. She scares the ever-living shit out of any pilot or flight crew with common sense. Friend and foe alike sir. What she does in the air behind the stick of that bird of hers is unnatural. Almost supernatural at times. It’s like she becomes an avenging angle of death when she flies, sir.”

Sylvester hadn’t thought about how other pilots would see his sister. To him she was nothing more than an extremely skilled and lucky pilot. The idea of her being seen as some kind of supernatural creature never occurred to him. Then again to him the ways of pilots and aircrews were just as mysterious to him as he and his men’s ways were to them. He never really thought about the impact that Terresa had on pilots. For them to see a Claymore in their number must truly be frightening. In a very real way Terresa was a terrifying threat unlike any other for these men and women. Just the way that Terresa flies is unsettling for most of them.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Mans for your honesty. We’ll get the men ready for their drop zones. Hopefully nothing goes wrong from out and you guys get back to base in one piece. Knowing who your escort is you stand a good chance.” Sylvester hoped that he had given the young man enough confidence in his sister to allay his doubts.

The copilot just smiled and turned to head back for the cockpit. “Your mouth to the Gods’ ears sir. Your mouth to their ears. Glory or Death, Major.”

“Sir did that wingnut just wish for us to buy the farm?”

Sylvester just chuckled. “Nope, Top. That is just the way that pilots wish good luck. It’s like our battle cry.”

“Oh in that case I hope like hell he gets his wish. Because I highly doubt he wants us to answer back with Death is Dealt by our hand.” The First Sergeant chuckled.

“No, I doubt he would want to hear that or anyone else for that matter. For some reason, non-Death Dealers kind of don’t want to hear our battle cry. I wonder why?” Sylvester let the smirk play across his face.

“I have no idea sir.” The First Sergeant chuckled. “Come on sir. We’ve goofed off enough. Time to get to work.”

“You’re right, Top. Time to open the shop.” Sylvester walked towards his men calling out orders as he went.

Outside in the FB-11 Claymore.
I couldn’t believe the stupidity of General Davenport. For days she has been shooting down these missions. They’re all suicide missions. Delivering much needed troops to behind the enemy lines in some fracked-up attempt to destroy a bunch of bridges that can’t be hit from the air.

“It’s not my damned fault those bridges have a better antiair defense system than we have at the base. I tried to warn McManus and Davenport that the one time we tried an aerial bombing run would be a total flop. I mean, I’ve spent every waking hour going over tactical and strategic targets all over this god forsaken planet. I know where every last fracking AAA hard point is hidden. Where each and every last SAM site is stashed. Not to mention their radar and lidar sites. Stupid assed Commanding Officers. What do they do? Give anyone over the rank of Colonel a lobotomy?” I know that I am only talking to myself but it’s keeping me awake.

This is the fourth damned escort mission in three days. This one being the longest so far. I figured out that even with the HST pushing it at full thrust the round trip will take just over five hours. The problem with that is the HST cannot push it for that long of a period. Do that and they burn out their engines and waste fuel. All for little or no gain really. As it was even at seventy percent power the mission had a fifteen-hour total flight time.

“Terresa, why are you bitching so much? You know this is the only way to insure those bridges come down. Which has to happen before those eight divisions of Amazon reinforcements can link up with the current divisions on the Panhandle Plains.”

“That is not the problem Lilly. I know that those bridges have to be taken out. I just believe that they can be handled by the New Texans. Hell, they have enough retired Death Dealers, and Empyreal Army or Marines to form a full regiment.” I know that I sound like a whinny little girl just then, but I have damned good reason to be this way.

“Terresa, just what is your real reason for being so damned whinny? You’re normally far more reserved than this. What has you so on edge?”

“You try being composed and reserved while suffering from TBS damn it!” I snapped.

“Terresa, I am familiar with most human illnesses but I have never heard of this TBS. May I know so that I can help?”

Terresa sighed and was thankful for the fact that she was alone in the fighter just then. “Lilly, TBS stands for Tiny Bladder Syndrome.”

“Oh, I understand now. You have to urinate. Why didn’t you say something?”

“Lilly, think about it. Do you see some place for us to pull over and let me get out to take a restroom break?” I snarled. “In case you haven’t noticed fighters aren’t exactly equipped with restrooms either. I have been needing to take a piss for the last two hours.”

The giggle that came from the speakers made me wish that I could get my hands on Lilly just then. “You do realize that I can handle that problem for you Terresa?”

“NOW you tell me. After holding it for the last two hours. Were you going to tell about this at some point in time?” I growled out. “Will you just relieve the pressure already, Lilly?”

I don’t know what I was expecting but the pressure on my bladder was quickly reduced. I sighed in pure relief for the first time in two hours. “Thank you, Lilly. I forget that you’re there at times. That and you can do certain things for me. Besides just helping me fly this monster.”

“I understand Terresa. Besides, from what I have been able to gather during our short time together. You were never supposed to receive a Bio-AI or the Second-Gen Death Dealer upgrades. So, having me around is still rather new to you. It normally takes several months to one year before a host becomes used to their Bio-AI.”

“Thanks for trying to sooth my ego, Lilly. I know that I was never supposed to get a Bio-AI but that didn’t mean I didn’t learn a thing or two from my brother and sister about theirs. I really do need to start putting that knowledge to use.” I told Lilly as nicely as I could.

“Say Terresa, have you been watching those drones?”

“Yup, sure have Lilly. They have been popping up every fifteen to twenty minutes on our radar. Always staying at the extreme edge of detection and only for long enough to be spotted. Then they just drop off the scope.” I had been watching those nasty little buggers for more than five hours now. With each scan I have gotten a bit more data on them. “So far I have been able to id most of them as being DEL-TA UAV recon drones. There have been one or two K-9 Coon Dog drones.”

“I thought as much. Terresa, if those Coon Dogs get a solid lock on the HST we could have a major problem. All six of our ground attack missile pods were replaced with drop tanks for extra fuel instead of more air-to-air missiles. That severely handicaps our combat abilities.”

I sighed as I had already figured that point out. “Lilly, I know that already. It’s just another reason for this damned mission to have been scrubbed. What I don’t like is they cut back on our autocannon rounds. I mean it’s bad enough that I have to keep an eye on the round counter normally, but to just give us seventy-five rounds instead of our normal buck fifty is just fracked.”

“Let’s just be happy that they couldn’t take away the beam weapons. They did just about everything they could to lighten our load and extend our mission flight time.”

“I know Lilly, trust me, I know.” I told her. I didn’t like the way my fighter was set up for this mission any more than she did. “We just have to deal for now, sister. Once we get back mom should have popped the lid on those new pilots. In two days we’ll finally have some backup.”

“About those new pilots Terresa. If we have to pick one to be our wingman, make sure they are from the one-twenty-seventh. I know that most them were shoot down during the bombing attack on the base, but I have gone over their records. If they had been equipped with a more up to date fighter, it would have been totally different outcome. For a bunch of candy assed Marines, they sure know how to fly.”

“I had already thought about that Lilly. And I have pretty much decided that unless we get more missions like this one. I don’t want a wingman.” I really had thought about it. It had been on my mind ever sense I took on those Peacemakers. If I had had a wingman they would have pulled off or refused to climb to the edge of our combat performance ceiling. Ninety-nine percent of the pilots out there aren’t test pilots. Even fewer were willing to fly ‘coffin corner’. That was the type of pilot I needed as a wingman. Lilly must have picked up on my thoughts.

“Terresa, I believe that Colonel McQueen or his second in command Captain Anderson will fit the bill. Both men have experience flying the old Ye-155R Foxbat recon aerospace fighters. They know coffin corner well.” I was stunned to say the least when I heard this about the two men. “They are also both experienced test pilots.”

“Well shit. I might have to rethink my position on the two men. Still, I prefer to work alone Lilly. This way we don’t have to worry about anyone but us. No having to cover for some glory hound out to make a name for themselves.” I know that it sounded cold and harsh, but it was the truth. I already had other pilots at the base approach me to be my wingman. All answered the same way when I asked why. My kill rate was the reason why they wanted to partner up. They all figured that if they were my wingman maybe they could get a few kills of their own.

“Terresa, I know and understand your reasons hon. But, sooner or later Colonel McManus is going to saddle you with a wingman. If only to keep James off his ass. Word is spreading like wildfire on the base that you two are a couple.”

Before I could reply to Lilly’s comment my attention was drawn to the radar. “Lilly are those returns closing?”

“Terresa, we need to take evasive action. Those are not UAVs. They’re Il-2 Shturmovik’s and they are coming on fast.”

“Oh shit! Do you have count on those Hunchbacks yet?”

“Working on it, Terresa. Right now you need to get our asses turned around to face those bitches. NOW!”

I keyed my mike and opened up a channel to the HST. “Copperhead, this is Scorpion. We got unwelcome guests. Initiate emergency drop procedures now. Over”

“Copy that Scorpion. Drop our boys and girls then run like hell. Take care and see you back at base Scorpion. Copperhead Out.”

I sighed as I knew that they would leave me out here on my own. It was in the operations orders. I pull back on the stick and give the right ruder enough push to send my fighter into a high climbing turn. I need to get above and behind those Il-2s fast. As strong as my armor is those damned things are more like flying tanks. Of all the aerospace fighters in production the Il-2s are some of the heaviest at eighty-five tons. They are also some of the most maneuverable in the skies. Between the armor and maneuverability, they become one of the deadliest fighters there is not to mention versatile.

I go over the specs for the Il-2 trying to remember where the weak points are. Lilly helps out by displaying their specs on the HUD. As I read them I groan.
Length: 11.6 m (38 ft 1 in)
Wingspan: 14.6 m (47 ft 11 in)
Height: 4.2 m (13 ft 9 in)
Wing area: 38.5 m² (414 ft²)
Empty weight: 75 tons
Loaded weight: 80 tons
Max. takeoff weight: 85 tons
Powerplant: 1 × Mikulin AM-38F ramjet
2 × fixed forward-firing 23×152mm VYa-23 cannons, 150 rounds per gun
2 × fixed forward-firing 7.62mmR ShKAS Pulse Plasma Laser
2 × manually aimed 12.7 Berezin UBT Pulse Plasma Laser rear cockpit
8 × RS-82 rockets 4 × RS-132 rockets
When I got to the end of the specs I knew that I was in for a fight. My only advantage was in speed and firepower. I could dump the external fuel tanks. That would allow me more speed and increase my maneuverability in the short term. I the long term it would cut down on my flight time. I would need a refuel if I survived this fight. Long before I ever got within range of the base. Once again I’m stuck with a catch 22 and no way real answer.

“Ah the hell with it. I’ll either be dead or needing to make a highspeed run for the base here shortly. I’m keeping those tanks.” I said aloud as I swung around high on the Il-2s six o’clock.

“I was wondering if you were going to keep them Terresa. I can give you a compromise. If we drop the number five and six tank we’ll still have enough fuel to reach our airspace and a refuel tanker. That’ll give us a slightly better performance.”

“No Lilly we’ll keep them all or none of them. Remember what I said about this being a one-way trip. Well, now we either live or die. The base doesn’t have the resources for another mid-air refuel for us. Not with the other four deep strike missions that are being carried out right now.” I decided to be honest with Lilly.

“Glory or death, Terresa. Glory or death. Been nice knowing you.”

“Glory or death Lily. As for counting us out, don’t. I am not about to die a damned virgin. Besides there are only three of those bad boys, and we have the advantage.”

“Terresa, please explain to me how in the hell we have the advantage. We’re out numbered, outgunned, and they have a very distinct weight advantage.”

“They’re nowhere nearly as pissed off as I am.” I growled out as I push the stick forward into the dive that would bring me down between the three enemy fighters. As I neared them I started to receive a return on the Friend Foe receiver. I could not believe my eyes. “Lilly are those friendly markers?”

“Um… yes they are Terresa. Any idea of who they might be?”

“Don’t know, Lilly. Only one way to find out.” I keyed the mike and opened the guard channel. “Unidentified aircraft at point nine-seven-one-one. This is Scorpion. Over”

“Scorpion, this is escort flight Tiger One-two-one. Tiger led, Over”

“Tiger led, this is Scorpion. State your route and flight path. Over”

“Scorpion, we are a diplomatic flight. Escorting President-elect D.G. Burnet to White Sands Research Development Center. We were told that you would provide additional escort cover. Over”

I was floored. Now, I knew why General Davenport had approved this mission. With the diplomatic flight passing along the same flight path the River Sluts would never expect us to run a deep strike team into the area. It was a straight up violation of the articles of war. Then again, they had already broken those articles by popping the nukes. If the higher ups wanted to dance around the moral edge that was none of her concern. So long as they didn’t put her ass on the line.

“Copy that Tiger led. I’ll fall in on your primary’s six. Over” I knew that Tiger Led would reject my suggestion. I really didn’t want those jackasses on my six but if I have to I’ll be keeping my hand on the throttles. I got the reply I was expecting and then some.

“Negative, Scorpion. You’re to take led position. You’re our pathfinder. Over”

“Copy that Tiger Led.” I dropped down until I was about four miles in front of the Il-2s and eased my throttles back until I was once more running at just over seventy percent. “Pull up on your throttles Tiger flight. We got a long way to go. Over”

“Care to explain why Scorpion? Over”

“Unless you have a gas station in route your need to throttle back, Tiger Led. Over” Just as I hoped they told me more than what I wanted.

“We’re cleared for a mid-air just after we enter the secured airspace of Whiskey Sara, Scorpion. There is Stratotanker stationed just for our refuel Scorpion. Over”

That was all I needed to know. They didn’t trust this jocker or his escort. If shit goes sideways I’m bailing. It also means that if they double cross us, I’m cleared to blow them out of the skies. That didn’t mean that I had to tell them that. “Copy that Tiger Led. Just tuck in tight and stay on my six. Out”

I switched back over to the network I had been using for the HST. “Copperhead, this Scorpion. How copy? Over”

“Five by five Scorpion. Over”

“Copperhead, have you made your drop yet? Over”

“We’re free and clear Scorpion. Heading for base now. Why? Over”

“Then burn up the skies Copperhead. There’s a gas station just over the line. Refuel and head for home. Understand? Over” I going to force the New Texans to waste fuel and then wait to refuel. Only they weren’t going to reach full a Stratotanker I was going to make sure of that. They want to use my people as a distraction then guess what. I’m going to throw a fracking monkey wrench into their plans. Let ’em try and reach White Sands on fumes.

“Copy Scorpion. I take it that our guests were trying to use us for bate? Over”

“That’s a big ROGER on that, Copperhead. Now, get gone. Over”

“We’re one with the winds, Scorpion. Copperhead Out” I wanted to laugh at the HST pilot. The man knew what to do, and why he was doing it without being told. My kind of pilot. Hell bent for leather with his ass on fire.

“Well Lilly, it looks like we get to play babysitter a little longer.” I sighed and then flipped the radar over to long range passive. I wanted as much warning as I could get. Especially if the Texans decided to double cross me.

“I take it that you don’t trust our friends, Terresa. They did show up at just the right time to screw with the deep strike deployment. Should I go ahead and get hard radar locks on the escorts?”

I wanted to laugh at the very nasty snarl in Lilly’s voice. For some reason I believe that she would happily blast our ‘friends’ out of the skies. “Only if you can do so without tipping them off Lilly.”

“Terresa, there many things that I can do without tipping off those backstabbing rats. That is the least of them. Now, you just sit there and fly this beautiful fighter back towards base as planned. They try to double cross us they’ll be dead before they can say oh shit. Just be ready to yank and bank.”

“No worries there, sister. You say the word and I’ll have us on their six faster than you can snap to.” I already knew that I could out fly them. I just had to get the first move in.

White Sands R-n-D Center Main Hospital Building

Andria and Sylvia Cole stood off to one side as the first of the new Second-Gen cocoons opened. Both women were on pins and needles. They had run multiple simulations for the new Second-Gens that Terresa had proposed. With the exception of one time, all the simulations were success. They knew that the new nanities were the answer to AI-burnout in aerospace pilots. Even with all those successful simulations they were still afraid of something going wrong. This was after all an experimental procedure at best.

Even after they explained this to the volunteer pilots not one back away. In fact, the response was almost the same from each them. ‘Glory or death.’ Their response took Sylvia a little by surprise. She had never really dealt with men and women so willing to face a possible painful death, no matter how slim the chance. For Andria it was nothing new. She had operated on more than one injured pilot or aircrew member during her time in the military.

Andria was the first to spot the deference between the Second-Gen pilots and the regular Second-Gen Death Dealers. The tallest of them was no more than five-foot six-inches tall. The average height for these pilots was around five-five. The shortest was around five-four. None of them looked as if they had extra muscle mass. They all had that wiry build of a will trained runner. In other words, they were all short, slim, and extremely fit. Another thing that stood out was the fact that they crossed all races. Black, white, oriental, Hispanic, even one elf.

Another thing that stood out was their bio-armor was a silver-gray in color. Unlike regular Second-Gen Death Dealers whose armor was forest green with black accents. Another striking feature were the eyes of these pilots. Before they entered the cocoons their eye color range all across the spectrum. Now, they all had golden irises with red crosshairs. Andria knew right away that this was a sign the H.H.S.S. portion of the programing had taken. Looking over at her daughter, Sylvia.

“Looks like we were successful, Major. Let’s get them settled down and adjusted to their new bodies. I have a feeling that when Terresa gets back we’re going to need them. Most likely sooner than later.”

“Alright mother. What do you know that the rest of us don’t?” Sylvia asked quietly.

“I was at the morning Command Briefing when Command Sergeant Major Southerland told General Davenport that the New Texas President elect is flying in. He is coming here to try and negotiate our surrender to the Amazon forces.” Looking over at the new Second-Gen pilots Andria dropped her voice extremely low, barely a whisper. “Price James had me include a loyalty program as part of their upgrades.”

Sylvia wanted to scream at her mother for doing something like that. It was a violation of the Medical ethics code. And would have done so if they were alone. Schooling her features Sylvia took a hold of her mother’s arm and dragged her outside. Once they were alone Sylvia rounded on her mother. “How could you do that Mother?! You would have killed someone else for doing something like that.”

“And your sister is going to be flying with those men and women in there. If they were normal Empyreal Military I wouldn’t have even considered it. But they’re not. They may be wearing Empyreal Marine uniforms, but they’re not Empyreal Marines. Listen to me here Sylvia. Those men and women are all members of the New Texas militia Marines. If I have to hijack their loyalty to the Empire over New Texas to protect your sister I fracking will. I’m also doing it to give us a fighting chance. I don’t know if you heard or not, but we’re losing this damned war. There are currently twenty-one heavy divisions of Amazon Regular Military on this planet right now. That doesn’t count the fourteen regiments of mercs that are now on planet. The River Sluts have lost New Carolina. They either take New Texas or they lose everything. Davenport let it slip during this morning’s briefing that the enter Twenty-second Death Dealers Battlegroup along with all eighteen of its combat divisions will be in system and planet side within nine days.” Andria knew that she could trust her daughter with this information.

“Holy shit! The enter Twenty-second Death Dealers Battlegroup? My goddess! Mother that is that going to be too much? I mean that sounds like overkill.” Sylvia was aghast that the Empress would send that kind of military force to deal with what was essentially a planetary war so far. The idea of eighteen Death Dealer combat divisions hitting one lone planet was enough to send most people screaming into the night.

“This is one time that I am going to take your sister’s favorite saying Sylvia. There is no such thing as overkill. Only open fire and I need to reload.” Andria gave her daughter a hard look. “You have been lucky Sylvia. Your whole career has been on R-n-D postings. Very shortly you and every last doctor on this base are going to be faced with the bloody price of war. So far the Amazons haven’t been able to mount a direct attack on this base or the troops here. The ones that have come in from the other bases were taken care of during flight or at emergency aid stations before being evacced off planet to the Medical Dropship Bifrost. That one act saved you and the medical staff here from seeing the first rounds of wounded.”

“Not all of them mother!” Sylvia snapped. “We got a good deal of them here too. We did our best to save them all. We know the price. We have all see the butcher’s bill. I just don’t think that dropping eighteen combat division on New Texas is the answer. We should be trying to deescalate the conflict. Not ramp it up.”

Andria sighed as she understood her daughter’s dilemma. As a doctor who has sworn to do no harm the idea of increasing the number of combatants was contradictory. Andria had spent more than enough time in the military to know that sometimes it took young men and women dying in great numbers to bring about what Sylvia wanted.

“Sylvia, you know that I love. But right now, I want to pound you. If those division don’t land in the next ten days, we may have to abandon New Texas and its citizens to the Amazons. If that happens it will take twenty to thirty combat divisions to retake the planet and free those citizens. The casualties will be three to four times higher if we just hold on and wait for the relief forces. That is who we are fighting for, not the politicians who want to make a name for themselves. And soon, very soon, the price for those efforts will be paid in blood.” Andria could see the realization of what she was saying in Sylvia’s eyes.

“Let’s get back inside mom. I understand what you wanted to do for Terresa. You made sure those new pilots are only loyal the Empire. This way they’ll be less likely to shoot her in the back. I get that. Do I like it? No. But I won’t stand in your way of ensuring that she has someone covering her ass in the air.” Sylvia just turned and headed back inside.

Andria just sighed at the retreating back of her oldest daughter. “I hope like hell you don’t let your baby sister know your views, Sylvia. I know that Terresa won’t think twice about telling you to grow the frack up and get a clue. She has become a true warrior of the skies.”

The sounds of engines overhead drew Andria’s attention. When she spotted the HST returning alone Andria knew that something had gone wrong. How bad she would have to wait to find out. First, she had to deal with the new pilots. Heading inside Andria began helping with the reorientation of the new pilots. Only one of which would need extra attention as she had undergone an unexpected gender change. The biggest bitch that most of them had was the loss in height and body mass.

White Sands, Airfield.

Chief Daily was the first one to reach the HST as it rolled to a stop. The fact it had returned early but also without Terresa had him worried. He had watched as the transport came in for landing while scanning the skies for his pilot and bird. Not seeing the Silver-Eyed-Witch he wanted answers and he wanted them now. He wasn’t going to wait for the so called official report.

As the pilot and copilot exited by the crew chute Chief Daily cornered the two men. “Where is my bird and pilot? You didn’t leave her to fend for herself, did you?”

“Relax Chief, Lieutenant Cole is about thirty minutes behind us. She is coming in with the New Texas diplomatic flight.” The pilot told him.

“Shit! I just knew those frackers would try and pull something like this. Thank you, Captain. Did you at least get the Major and his people close enough to their drop zones? Or were you forced to perform an emergency drop?” Daily knew that if the Captain went with the emergency drop the mission was close to a disaster.

“Thankfully, Lieutenant Cole bought us enough time to scramble. We got to our drop zones and bugged out. It wasn’t pretty, Chief, but it is mission accomplished.” The Captain answered Chief with a grim look in his eyes. “My crew was sweating bullets and chewing nails the whole way home. If those cowboys get here in one piece they won’t be for long. I plan to be looking the other way as my crew beats the shit of them and take bets on the side.”

“Sir, if they show up without my pilot and bird your crew won’t get the chance.” Daily growled as he started to walk away. “I’ll kill ’em all for you.”

As his copilot stepped up beside him the HST pilot lite up his first cigarette in hours. “Mans, let’s pray that Scorpion gets back safe and sound.”

“Why’s that Skipper?”

“Because if she doesn’t get home safe and sound that delegation from the New Texas Government is going to end up dead. I doubt that the Prince knows they’re in route as we speak either. Because if he does, then someone used that flight as a cover for our operation. Which we both know is a great big fracking no-no. Come on let’s get some chow and then showers followed up with some shuteye. I figure we got maybe twelve to fourteen hours before we get another mission.”

“You thinking deep strike drop Skipper?” Mans could tell that his C.O. was unsettled about something.

“Nope. Not a deep strike. More like using those six Martin B-57 Canberra’s that made it through production. They got the range, speed, and armament for heavy bombing runs on the River Sluts. They just need pilots, which we have. It only takes eight to nine hours of training to switch from transports to bombers. At last count there twelve fully qualified transport flight teams on this base. That is more than double what is needed to fly those birds.”

“You don’t think those yahoos are going to push for bombing attacks do you?” Mans asked as he and the pilot walked towards the chow hall.

“Between you, me, and that RBZ-750, yes. Either that or trying to force General Davenport to evac the planet. Which we both know won’t be happening. Death Dealers never retreat and never surrender. Now that those two regiments of Armored Cavalry have started harassment operations the Death Dealers are taking the fight straight down the enemy’s throat. Once they do that, the Death Dealers will rip out their hearts and spit on their graves.”

“Damn, Skipper. That’s frack harsh. How do you know so much about the Death Dealers?”

“My grandfather served underneath one of the meanest Death Dealers in their history. When they say that Death is dealt by their hand. They fracking mean it.” the Captain stopped at the doors to the chow hall. “Mans, listen very closely to me on this. The next mission we get we do not leave our escort behind. No matter what the circumstances, we do not abandon our escorts.”

“Gotcha boss. We all come home or none of us come home.” Mans knew that his Skipper won’t change his mind on those orders. Both men had their attention drawn towards the runway by the familiar sound of powerful and unique twin engines. Engines that currently belonged only to one fighter. Scanning the skies, the two men spotted the distinctive twin tails of the FB-11 passing overhead heading for the main runway. Mans breathed a massive sigh of relief. “Um… Skipper, I think we just had our bacon save by the grace of good fortune and the goddess.”

“Mans, there are times you have a gift for stating the obvious.”

-----tbc-----