"Launch...launch...launch."
On command Barger pushed forward hard and rotated the grips forward. The docking clamps automatically rattled and broke free. By rotating the grips the bi-wing's engines ignited with full force. At the same time the fighter jerked down and away from the Blackhawk at a sixty-degree angle. In the blink of an eye the fighter was rocketing towards the lunar surface, leaving the rest of the flight behind.
Barger eased back on the grips and pulled the fighter out of its dive a few hundred meters from the surface. He slowed even further as he banked to his right. The slight alteration in course allowed him a brief view of both the Blackhawk and Nightwing. As expected, one flight was grouping up in the lead while two flight was dropping towards the surface after him. Standard procedure for Devil squadron was for the lead flight to attack the target head on. Two flight would then come up from a different approach and hit any aggressors to one flight.
"Two, I've got your right," Kirkland said as it dropped in off of his right wing. He was as good if not better in formation flying. Showing off his skills as he usually did, Kirkland pulled to within a few meters before rolling out to his assigned spot in the formation.
"Keep 'em low and keep 'em tight. I want to see scrape marks on your bellies when we get back. Five, you?ve got intercept duty. If we get missile threat I want you on it."
"Copy that, two."
The flight of six fighters hugged the lunar surface reaching no further than ten meters of altitude. Lunar dust billowed up under the pressure of each fighter's four engines. Each pilot companion ran its own terrain following style, allowing each pilot to monitor the first flight as it approached the cruiser. The two flights were more than a thousand meters apart before any response was detected.
"Power build-up, lead," Barger said.
"I've got it, two. She's raising shields. Damn thing only registers five hundred."
One pass should do it, he thought with growing concern. With such weak shields either she was a decoy or this attack was unwarranted.
"Coming up," lead said. "Ten seconds to firing range. Still no sign of powered up weapons."
"Two flight. Break terrain following and accelerate to attack speed. Fifty seconds to first pass."
Even from this distance the bright amber laser fire was clearly visible. Twenty-four continuous streaks of light began to trace the cruiser along the port side. The ship's shields flared up in brilliant splashed of orange and green, sending sparks of fading energy out into space. Even before the last bi-wing passed over the bow, the strafing run began to penetrate the shields, splashing fiery red across the hull.
Still there was no sign of a response. The port docking bay was dark. Power readings from the laser batteries were negligible, just enough to keep the weapons on dormant standby. If there had been gunners on standby their weapons would not be hot before two flight reached them. This was a turkey shoot.
"This isn't right," Barger mumbled to himself.
"What was that, two?" Asked Kirkland. "Please repeat."
"Nothing. Ten seconds to target. Break off for strafing run."
Barger pulled into a tight turn, banking around the backside of the cruiser. He let off a shot to test its shields and was surprised to find his linked fire crash into the engine housing and tear up the armor. The old, fatigued hull split apart around the point of impact and atmosphere streamed out into space. A series of internal explosions tore through the engine housing quickly followed by a tear of fire bursting from the side of the starboard engine. For all intents and purposes, he had just succeeded in scoring the shot of a century. In one shot he had crippled one of the four engines with secondary explosions severely damaging the other three.
Flashes from the trailing fighters inflicted similar damage, ripping large holes in the side of the vessel. Atmosphere vented from every opening, indicating direct hits through both the outer and inner hulls. The last two fighters managed to squeeze off another shot before the speedy craft pulled up over the bow. Both linked blasts ripped off the armor directly in front of the bridge, exposing the lower deck. Both the bridge and deck below it were then sucked out into space through the growing tear.
In one pass, twelve fighters had effectively crippled a star ship beyond operation. On an inspection pass Barger carefully looked for escape pods, but found none. He thought for sure that after the shields fell the crew would have scrambled for escape. Surely they knew that a boarding party would be on its way.
"She's dead," he said. "No power readings of any level."
"Very good," A harsh, raspy voice rumbled over the squadron frequency. "Intrusion team has been dispatched. Proceed with the rest of your mission."
"As ordered," lead responded. "Two, break flight and proceed to the surface. Make one pass over the capitol and take out any weapons emplacements."
"Two?" asked Kirkland.
"Keep it down, three. Take five and six and follow us in on the first pass." Kirkland mumbled something harsh under his breath. Barger did not blame him a bit. It was evident that the cruiser was no threat and not a decoy. If he had any theory at all he would have pegged the ship as a converted cargo ship or even an economy starliner. He shivered with the last thought. If the latter of his theories was correct then Devil squadron had just killed a few hundred passengers enjoying a vacation.
