The process of clearing up the Rebel base went quickly, from the end of the battle.  The body-count was high...a lot of people had been exposed to the diminished Martian atmosphere when the base had been compromised, some of them had died very painful deaths as a result.  The ones who died right away were lucky...many had extreme cases of nitrogen narcosis from the rapid decompression, only a few lasted long enough to get medical attention.  The worst, however, had not only suffered decompression, but had also been exposed to massive doses of radiation, and the shock to their bodies had been fatal.  The base was, largely, a graveyard, and the radiation levels guaranteed that nobody would be using that base for a long time to come.

The survivors had been rounded up...their leaders had fled, taking an escape rocket that launched to somewhere further out in the Solar System--if anyone knew where, they weren't saying.  Those survivors that were medically sound enough to transport were loaded onto the destroyer James Madison, for transport back to Earth.  The members of Revolt Squadron, along with half of the remaining members of Fox Squadron, were assigned to the James Madison for escort duty as it shuttled the survivors back to Earth.

The Ranger, along with the destroyer Invictus, received orders to verify that the rest of Mars was clear, including Sera Base.  While it was not widely known, the presence of a reflex furnace beneath Sera Base had High Command very skittish about the possibility that some of the rebels might have escaped or set up operations there.  Observation hardware said 'no'...but several of the generals and admirals insisted, since they already had forces in the area, for an eyes-on verification.

That assignment had fallen to Echo Squadron, and Captain Wilson had summoned them to the Ready Room to discuss exactly what was going on and what he expected.

Vance walked in, a bit agitated but trying to keep a calm face on things.  If the aliens came back...Zentraedi...they call themselves Zentraedi... he reminded himself.  If they came back now, while the Ranger had so many Veritechs out escorting the rebels back to Earth, the pilots that were still aboard would be hard pressed to hold their own.

Still...orders were orders, and he was pretty sure he wasn't the only one who was getting orders that made him nervous.  He came to attention and snapped a salute.

"Lt. Hardy, reporting as ordered, sir!" he said, crisply.

Walking into the Ready Room, Hanako had similar feelings to Vance, but with a bit more confidence in their odds of survival.  Of course, she had Vance to look up to and trust in his leadership, so that helped.  Still, she was on edge all the same, and it showed in how she moved - much more clean and crisp than usual.  She always did fall back on formalities when she was uneasy.

"2nd Lt. Hanako Moriya, reporting as ordered, sir!" she said as she arrived seconds after Vance, her own salute formal and by-the-book.

Returning the salute, the Captain gestured to chairs.  As the other members of Echo squadron reported in, he handled them in like fashion, and in just a few minutes, the squadron was assembled.

"We've received orders from UEDF Command.  While they're less than thrilled about the rebel leadership that got away, we had no way of knowing they had any sort of emergency escape vessel in place.  We accomplished the mission we were sent here for...the base is unusable, the threat of them generating any sort of weaponry here is nullified, and the stockpile of nukes that was the greatest source of concern has been eliminated.  So, good work, all."  He paused and gave them a curt nod.

"However, Command is worried that, if they had the time to put in some kind of escape craft, they may have also set up satellite bases, or even managed to penetrate Sera Base and start using it.  Sera Base has one of the few operational reflex furnaces that we've built...and while it was an early attempt and is pretty inefficient by our current standards, if they managed to get it powering some kind of weapons system, it would still wreak a lot of havoc.  We can't afford that.  So, we have to do a recon survey of the entire planet and verify that we've cleared Mars.  It's going to take a while...it would take longer, but Chief Bixby assures me that he can process the data and keep our time here down to just a day or two, after which we'll set out after the James Madison.  We should, if all goes well, arrive back in Earth orbit just a few hours after they disembark all the prisoners...and there's still ongoing discussion whether to have the Madison slow her speed so we can arrive at the same time.  Command has concerns that rebel factions on Earth might rise up if word has made it back about the prisoners being taken, and try to free them, and some of the Admiralty want us back there to prevent that from happening."

He looked at the group for a moment.  "Any questions?"

Vance spoke up.  "Just one, sir.  Do you have assigned patrol sectors for us, or is it up to us as a squadron to work out our own search patterns?"  If they'd already worked out a search pattern, it could save him a few hours of poring over satellite maps of Mars and figuring out who should fly where.

Wilson gave the whole squadron a once-over, before answering, "We've got specified search patterns for you to fly.  Those of you who've been consistently performing well on your missions, will have the highest-priority targets, the less we've seen from you, the less demanding your search sector will be.  Don't assume that getting assigned a fly-over of the polar regions means you don't need to pay any attention...we don't know if the rebels were limited to the one base or not.  They could have expanded anywhere."

He focused on Hardy.  "Naturally, the priority is Sera Base...so that will be yours, Lt. Hardy, along with 2nd Lt. Moriya."  He paused long enough for a grin to almost make it to his face.  "Field promotion.  If we waited for the brass back home to approve it, we'd all be old and gray before promotions happened."  His grin faded to a scowl.

"Or we'd all be dead before word got to us."  He chose not to dwell on that point.  "Any other questions?  If not, you're expected to launch in three hours.  Chief Bixby is trying to fine-tune some of the sensor equipment and calibrating comm suits so he can coordinate the search, so I'd steer clear of your veritechs until it's actually time to launch."

Smiling at the news of her sudden promotion, Hanako did her best to maintain protocol and not bounce excitedly as she wished to do, even with the gallows humor.  She did manage to salute Captain Wilson, and felt rather proud of her field promotion.  She now outranked everyone in her squadron except her CO and XO, although with how Bixby helped shape everyone aboard the Ranger, that didn't mean much outside of missions.  Still, she didn't care about that.  Her contributions were being rewarded, and it always felt good to have ones actions be recognized.

She had no questions, as there was clearly no reason to take any of the newer, more experimental craft planetside - the Stampede was too heavy and the Konig was too slow for this sort of mission.  Besides, she liked her VF-1A.  Sure, it wasn't unique like a 1J with a customized paint job or a 1S with its signature silhouette and improved equipment, but it was her fighter, and she had flown many a mission with it.

So, with nothing to say, she glanced upwards at Vance and gave him a slight nod to let him know she was ready.

Vance nodded, with a grin down to Hanako.  "Congratulations, Lieutenant.  Better swing by the Quartermaster and get the new insignia...I'd hate for your ground crew to miss out on ribbing you about the promotion."  He chuckled gently.  He had no idea what kind of relationship Hanako had with her ground crew...his own crew had been assigned to him after he'd made his current rank, so he'd never endured their response to a promotion, directly.

But he remembered what happened when one of them made Corporal.  It made him glad they hadn't been around when he got any of his lieutenant advancements.

He looked back to Captain Wilson.  "Three hours, aye sir.  We'll be ready to go."

The time passed uneventfully...a few hours later found Echo Squadron in the skies over Mars, fanned out to maximize the search pattern designed by Chief Bixby, who had all the sensor readings from the various Veritechs routed through the enhanced processors on the Two-Ex.

"Okay, folks...start your sweeps.  Anything abnormal comes up, we'll mark it and take a closer look.  Lt. Hardy, you two will need to fly a lower pass over Sera Base...there's some minimal signal noise coming off all the standby gear there, and standard patrol heights will give me a lot of false positives."

He muttered something encouraging to his plane, under his breath, as he turned on the signal-filtering systems and waited for information from the various planes to come back his direction.

Vance nodded, in the cockpit of his plane.  "You heard the man, Hanako...let's take 'em down.  I'll come in from the East, you come in from the West...fly over, circle around for a second pass, you from the North and me from the South.  Two sweeps from opposite directions ought to give a pretty good picture of things..."

He nosed his plane down as he began to swing out to the edge of their search section, dropping down to a scant one thousand meters' altitude above the surface.

"<TC>This low enough for you, Chief?" he asked.  The mountains around Sera Base were taller than this, but the base itself was sprawled out in a plain of sorts, leaving them some room to maneuver in the air.  They'd just have to climb at the end of each pass...quickly.

"<TC>I'm on it, commander," Hanako replied as she lowered her altitude to match that of Vance's, cautiously flying out and away from her wingman in order to maximize their coverage in the minimum time (and to follow orders).  While she had similar worries to Vance about preventing a crash, she knew that the Veritech craft were the most ideal for such a flight pattern, as they could shift and reverse their velocity at a moment's notice.

Of course, that never felt good, what with the rather high G-force, but it was certainly better than meeting a mountainside with her face.

Especially one on Mars, where even should she somehow SURVIVE the impact of the crash, she certainly wouldn't survive crawling out of the cockpit due to the lack of breathable atmosphere.

"<TC>Actually, that's just about right, Cowboy," Bixby replied, as the telemetry and sensor information came streaming in.  "<TC>Hold your course, Echo One...Echo Three, adjust two degrees right."

This put the two planes on a near-miss course, but it would also wind up blanketing almost the entire base with sensor-sweeps from opposing directions, and set them up for the turn necessary to make their next pass at right angles to this one.

"<TC>Echo Two, Echo Five, can you make another pass over that canyon, lengthwise?  I'm not sure if I'm getting a false reading or a sensor echo, but something alerted there."  He fine-tuned some of the settings on the processor to try and eliminate the possibility of the alert being the result of something as innocuous as an exposed vein of ore.

"<TC>Adjusting course," Hanako replied professionally as she did so, ready to do the other pass when it was time.  At the news of her fellow squadmates needing to do another pass, she prepped herself to be ready to head for their position at a moment's notice, working out a flight plan for the shortest route as she continued her sweep.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:18, Mon 19 Aug 2013.

"<TC>Copy that, Chief.  Passing the outer perimeter of Sera Base in three, two, one..."  A kilometer beneath his Veritech, a little radio-beacon was transmitting to mark the outer reach of the base...which was, itself, still close to half a kilometer or so from the actual buildings.  The enhanced sensors on his VF-1S registered the motion sensors, infrared proximity alarms, and other automated security monitors that were arrayed across the open plain surrounding the base, but he wasn't fast enough to read what the information said about them.  He was focused on the growing structures of the base-proper, directly ahead, and the rapidly expanding dot that he knew was Hanako coming from the other direction.  His own proximity alarms gave him a mild warning that another craft was on a near-intercept course with him, but it was projected to miss him by a couple of dozen meters...as long as nothing caused a shift in course.

It was risky, but not especially dangerous.  He decided to talk to Bixby to distract himself from the potential risks.  "<TC>Getting anything, Chief?" he asked, with forced nonchalance.

"<TC>Nominal readings from Sera Base...once you've made this pass, go ahead and make your turns to set up for the next pass.  At that range, with that kind of sensor coverage, I could make a scale model of everything down to the loose rocks between buildings...if there's anything amiss there, we'll find it."

He was actually about eighty-five percent sure, already, from this pass.  But he'd like to bump that up to something above the ninety-eight percent mark.  Hence, the second pass.

"<TC>Lt. Khan, drop your altitude another 300 feet...there's a high iron content in the canyon that's messing up the sensor returns, but I think a few hundred feet will clear it up."

Of course, it would also have her skimming dangerously close to the surface.  But, he reasoned, it wasn't anywhere near as hazardous as flying a prototype Veritech to attack an alien ship, and most of the squadron had survived that...

"<TC>Copy that, Chief..."  He held the Veritech at altitude as he passed over the base proper and beyond until his sensor pinged with the outer marker beacon, then pulled up into an easy banking turn that took him to a point where another turn sent him at right angles to his initial pass, easing back down to an altitude where the small ripples of height of the surface were registering actively on his altimiter.

"<TC>Commencing second run..."

Hardy's Veritech was just passing the outer marker, inbound for Sera Base, when the comm system shrieked an alert.

"<TC>All Veritechs, return to the Ranger IMMEDIATELY.  Repeat, this is an emergency recall.  Long range sensors have picked up an alien craft that appears to be on an intercept course for the James Madison.  What you've found thus far will have to do, we can't leave them vulnerable.  Ranger is pulling out to provide cover.  Return to the Ranger immediately, or prepare to make your home on Mars for a while...

In the Two-Ex, Bixby muttered a stream of curses.  He was pretty sure Sera Base was clear, but there'd been two or three anomalous readings elsewhere and now he wouldn't get a chance to do anything to clarify them.  But this was obviously a higher priority to the man in charge, and it wasn't his job to argue.

"<TC>Copy that, Ranger, Raven One is RTB.  Let's go, people, if I can't stay there's no reason for any of you to do it."  He pushed the throttle forward and pulled back on the stick and his plane shot skyward.

Return to the Ranger immediately, or prepare to make your home on Mars for a while...

While Hanako did think Mars was a lovely shade of orange-red, she had no intentions of trying to make a home there, especially with the radiation they'd unleashed.  Also, she rather liked the James Madison being intact.  So, she did the only thing she could, and that was follow her orders.  "<TC>Roger, Echo Three returning to base," she said, moving to form up with Vance again en-route to the Ranger.  Even in an emergency return order, abandoning your wingman was not something you did.

A look of annoyance flickered across his face before Vance even had a chance to think about it.  He was instantly apologetic for it, even though there was no one there but him to have noticed it.  After all, it wasn't like they just scrubbed the mission for no particular reason.  One of the ships in their task force...a ship being escorted by a large number of inexperienced pilots...was apparently in the enemy crosshairs, and even if that threat hadn't been enough, their mission was to protect Earth, not Mars...the detection of enemy craft moving toward Earth was all the justification that should be needed to pull up stakes and move out.

Suitably self-chastised, he pulled up from his pass, easing off the throttle for a moment so Hanako could drop into position off his wing before he throttled up again to make sure he had escape velocity.

"<TC>Roger that, Echo Lead is en route..."  He closed his mic...double-checked to make sure it was off...and proceeded to loudly and vehemently declare his frustration with their enemy.  Even though nothing could be heard over the comm, to anyone flying close by, his tirade was so demonstrative that his helmet could be seen wiggling and wagging, and he appeared to very nearly be pounding his fists on some of the side consoles of his Veritech's control systems.

Seeing Vance's clear frustration with SOMETHING due to his animated antics within the cockpit, Hanako waited for a solid three minutes of that before she felt something had to be said.  Hoping to make a direct communication link with him, she switched her broadcast to his channel and sent a blink pattern to him in morse code, asking if he wanted to talk.

It took a few seconds for it to register in Vance's mind that the flashing lights were actually a signal, rather than some kind of new malfunction in one of the Veritech's, and a second or two more before he actually processed enough of the Morse Code to understand the request.

He tweaked his comm system, setting up a private channel, and called..."<TC>What's up, Hanako?"  He was apparently oblivious to the fact that his display had been so visible.

As she kept in formation, Hanako meekly squeaked as Vance suddenly responded to her hail.  She hadn't honestly expected him to reply so calmly, or at all, really.  It took her by surprise.

Of course, she soon found her ability to speak, which was always useful when trying to communicate.  "<TC>Ano, etoh... you looked really upset a moment ago, sir.  I was worried you might put your fist through your control panel."

With a dry laugh, Vance replied, "<TC>My control panel?  No.  Some alien's face?  Maybe..."  His face clouded for a moment.  Yeah, except for the fact that they're, like, fifty feet tall and your head's the size of their eyeballs... he thought, but didn't say.  If he had the chance, he'd just have to put his battloid's fist through the alien's face, instead of his own.  Not as personally gratifying, perhaps, but certainly far more effective.

"<TC>Just frustrated that we keep getting missions cut short because they keep turning up.  It'd be nice if they'd just decide we were more trouble than it was worth and disappear back into space again..."  He knew there was no chance of that happening.  Well--he assumed.  His assumption was based on human nature.  They'd hurt the aliens...actually destroyed a couple of their ships, now.  While Earth was obviously not a serious threat to them, or else the bulk of the alien fleet wouldn't have vanished, it WAS a threat.  "As long as they're around, we're gonna be running in reaction mode...our orders are going to be reactions to whatever they do.  And I hate that...it gives them all the control of the situation."

Aboard the Ranger, Captain Wilson checked status boards and okayed information from various aides.  "As soon as we get the last fighter onboard, set an intercept course, best possible speed."  He sighed, pinching the sides of the bridge of his nose to try and ease some tension.

Wish sensors had gotten a better reading on just what KIND of alien ship it was.  Or if it was alone.  He was sure it would be able to catch up to the destroyer they'd sent ahead.  There'd been no reason for them to race back to Earth, and trying to keep pace with the destroyer at high speed for the entire trip would overload the engines on the Veritech escorts.  If they were smart, the fighter pilots would land, in either Guardian or Battloid mode, on the hull of the ship, rather than try and fly alongside for the entire voyage.  He could only hope that Dutch would teach them the proper technique for distance traveling with a ship that had no hangar facilities.

"How soon?" he asked.  Inaction was difficult for him, but often, it was better to wait until resources were all in the right places before acting.

"Four minutes, sir..."

He nodded, and clenched his jaw.  He understood, now, why Captain Gloval had developed such a fondness for pipes...that would at least have given him something to do while waiting.

So that's what's bugging him, Hanako thought as they flew in formation.  Sure, it annoyed her, too, but since she wasn't in any level of command (at least in her mind, despite still being an officer), she hadn't really thought about it too much.  Her goals were much more immediate, after all.  Protect her friends and find her family.  And since her family was on the vanished Macross Island, she only had hope and faith to go on for the latter.

"<TC>Well, sir, I am not sure what to tell you.  I do not like it, either, but I cannot do anything about it.  Not personally, at least.  All I can do is follow my orders and keep my friends safe, so that is what I focus on.  I can also listen, so if you ever need to talk about something, you can talk to me, okay, sir?" she said, making the offer with an earnest, heartfelt desire to help him.  They'd been through quite a lot together, them and the rest of Echo Squadron, and she wanted them all to be without worry as much as possible.

In the cockpit of his Veritech, Vance smiled.  It was a somewhat tired smile, but it was sincere.  "<TC>Thanks, Hanako...I don't know that talking about it will do much to solve the problem, really.  But the moral support is appreciated, all the same."

The Ranger was getting large outside his canopy, and he knew it would only take a few seconds at their current speed to get there.  He flipped channels on his comm system to the standard frequency and called in.  "<TC>Ranger, this is Echo Leader, requesting approach vector for landing."

And he was all business again.  His voice betrayed no sign of the minor temper fit he'd had on the way back up.

They could see that the Ranger was already starting to move, engines ramping up to break orbit and make way.  Their flight was guided in, followed immediately by a series of planes as the rest of Echo Squadron and Chief Bixby set down.  Bixby's plane was still taxiing from the runway when the engines kicked up to full power and they could feel the shift in inertia for a moment as Ranger pulled away.

Ground crews came out quickly, checking ammo load-outs and reactor status and every other thing that was typically checked during a mid-mission re-supply landing.  It was actually a few minutes before they got the orders to go ahead and get out of the cockpits.  The sergeant who headed Vance's ground crew went straight to the cockpit as it opened.

"Captain says to stay close to the fighters...I think he actually wanted y'all to sit scramble alert in the cockpits, but Keyes talked him into standing by on the ground, seein' as it's supposed to be at least a couple of hours before we get anywhere close to launch range."

His eyes ran over the plane, and his face split into a ferocious smile.  "Hot damn, L-T...see, I KNEW it was actually possible to take a plane out and not get it all scratched to hell..."

Landing shortly after Vance, Hanako taxied over to where the ground crew steered her and waited for all the checks before popping her canopy.  She watched the ground crew head straight for Vance's craft and meet him at the cockpit, so she waited in her fighter, but still stood up and removed her helmet.  Sure, it was all recycled air, but the Ranger had better filters than her suit and craft, and seriously, who wanted to breath their own scent longer than they had to?

Even if it wasn't all that bad and had a faint smell of strawberries thanks to a touch of perfume.  She'd honestly rather smell a nice, strong cup of coffee at the moment.

Vance grinned a lop-sided grin.  "Yeah, all it takes is an aborted recon mission and no aliens to interfere, Sarge.  Why don't you set things up so all the missions go like that, and then I can stop scratching your paintjobs?"  The words were good-natured, but there were undertones in his voice, indicators of his frustration at being unable to do more than pester the aliens enough to make them back off for a little while.

He'd been in the air that day...seen how many ships there had been, before most of them had vanished and left just the few behind that had, thus far, been such an agonizing nightmare to deal with.  He knew, even if they managed to somehow get rid of the ships that had been bothering Earth, there were plenty more where those came from.

Much as he'd love to have a 'one and done' victory, the only way the aliens would leave them alone, long-term, would be to lose enough forces to slow attrition for them to conclude that Earth was more trouble than it was worth, but not trouble enough to be a serious threat.

If they ever got the impression Earth was a threat, he was pretty sure that every Veritech in existence couldn't even slow down the obliteration of the planet.  That many ships, firing on the surface?  If they didn't completely destroy humanity, the planet would be ruined, beyond habitation.

But he kept a brave face, for his crew and his squadron.  And prayed for a miracle.

As they got out of their planes, they could feel the shift in the rumble of the engines, the deck plating vibrating slightly beneath their feet.  Up on the bridge, far from the flight deck, there was a buzz of activity, as the various officers monitored their systems and made the adjustments necessary for the Ranger to achieve top operational speeds.

Other officers were hunched over their consoles...the comm officer was trying to get some kind of a sitrep from the James Madison, but was getting nothing but static.  Sensor officers adjusted their gear to the last known position of the destroyer, and began running search patterns, looking for something that might be the ship.

In their wake, its presence unnoticed, a Zentraedi spy vessel took note of their departure.  "What do you think they were looking for down there?" one of the occupants asked his two companions.

"I couldn't say for certain, but we're getting a lot of readings indicating a combat zone...looks like ruins, some of them look fire-gutted or like they've been shot up.  And the background energy levels are extremely high.  Some kind of energy weapons were used down there, and they weren't picky about who they used them on."

The craft's commander noted the readings.  "There must be something else...their ships were flying search patterns over the whole planet.  What were they looking for?"

"Perhaps they were looking for that..."  The Zentraedi officer pointed to a screen that displayed an extensive base laid out on the planet's surface...and apparently sunk some distance into it.  "The structures are all intact, but power readings seem to indicate the whole thing is deserted...I'm not sure there's even enough power running through the area to run a life-support system."

The commander nodded.  "We should notify Lord Khyron.  If these creatures continue on their path, the battle fortress should come near this planet.  If he hasn't managed to stop them before then, this might be a good place to surprise them."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 02:06, Sat 23 Nov 2013.

Vance stayed near his plane, trying to use idle conversation with his ground crew to cover the nerves that kept trying to get him rattled and worried about just what they'd find.  He cast a watchful eye over the rest of the squadron, some of them talking with their crews, like him...others were tinkering on their planes, with a little supervision from the crew chiefs...a few were reading or playing games, either in the cockpit or on the deck by the planes.

"Any of you boys got any cards?" he asked.  "We could get through a few hands of poker before they send us out, I'm sure..."

Once she had the stairs rolled up, Hanako climbs out of her fighter and walked over to her commander, him being the nearest member of her squadron.  She showed up behind him just in time to hear him ask about a deck of cards, and gave him a bit of a smirk.  "I would think some coffee would be more important than cards, sir," she said playfully, although she wasn't entirely joking, either.

Vance chuckled.  "Maybe so, but poker cards won't leave me feeling like I've gotta pee two minutes after we launch.  Not sure how long we'll be playing...once we find the destroyer...or the alien ship...we'll be back in the cockpits.  At least some poker will keep me from sitting here, getting antsy, while I wait for orders to saddle up again.  That's really all I need..."

One of the armaments loaders unzipped a pocket on one sleeve, producing a deck of cards.  "How do you think we keep ourselves sane waitin' for you to come back with the plane, L-T?" he asked, with a chuckle.

"Sarge, break out the chips...Lt. Hardy wants to play cards..."  There was an eagerness, verging on taunting, in his voice.  Vance looked around, at the eager grins on the faces of his ground crew, and looked over at Hanako.

"Ummmmm...why do I feel like I've just jumped into a shark tank?"

With a giggle, Hanako grins up at Vance and replies, "Because you have, sir.  This also looks like a good opportunity for me to learn how to play."  Stepping up beside her direct commanding officer, she smiles warmly at the techs and asks, "Do you suppose I could play as well, to learn the game?  If I have to bet, I can do so, but a friendly game to start would be nice, if that is alright with everyone."

With a shrug, Sarge answered, "I suppose we can stick to the shallow end of the pool for a few hands, at least...but learning how to bet, and how to read other peoples' bets, is kinda key to the game.  Doesn't have to be money...I been in games played for candy, or even just toothpicks...which is fine and well if you're playin' for bragging rights, but ain't much you can buy with toothpicks, y'know?"

He seemed a little unsure how to deal with Lt. Moriya...one one hand, she was an officer, and a junior officer at that, which was usually all the grounds he needed to be as gruff and irascible as you please.  But she was also a woman...and officer or no, he was raised to respect women.  The two impulses warred with each other.

Hanako could rather easily read the unspoken thoughts the sergeant was having, and was rather amused by the inner conflict.  "I suppose we will just have to use the chips without actually spending any money for the first hand or two, unless you have something you could wage against a kiss," she said with a playful grin, rather enjoying the idea of including such a risk that would, while having value, also mean there would be no hard feelings due to monetary loss.

Besides, it wasn't as if they didn't deserve a little pick-me-up anyway.

Vance carefully hid the grin that came to his face as he watched Sarge trying to navigate the unfamiliar waters of dealing with a female officer.  "I think we should probably keep kisses off the table as betting currency," he said with a dry tone.

"I don't know if Sarge's reputation could handle getting kissed by an officer..."  He winked at the other members of the ground crew, but carefully kept a straight face as he looked at his crew chief.

Sarge's jaw worked vigorously as he struggled to keep from saying something that could get him brought up on insubordination charges.  He was actually pretty sure the Lt. would never do something like that, but he was also just perceptive enough to realize that he was being baited, and he finally broke into a rueful grin.

"Fair enough, no kissing allowed in the betting.  Maybe we can use commissary credits?  I'm sure you officer-types get more than we do, and we sure as hell don't have much downtime around here to really do much with what we get from the commissary, so they're not quite worthless but nobody's gonna be up a creek if they lose a few.  Good enough?"

Folding her arms with a pout, Hanako huffed in protest of not being allowed to mess with everyone's heads by betting a kiss, but the compromise seemed to make the most sense from a logical point of view.

"I suppose those would work.  I do not really use them much myself except to get stronger coffee, so that sounds fair."

The cards were shuffled and dealt, bets made, cards laid down...bets collected, cards passed to the next dealer and shuffled again, and the cycle repeated, as the Ranger raced through space to try and catch up with the destroyer it had sent out.  Other ships in the task force moved ahead, others strayed behind...it was a 'best possible speed' situation, the Captain decided.

As it turned out, Vance had a terrible poker face...and really bad luck with the cards...and between the two, ended up losing, consistently.  Hanako--either because she was female and unfamiliar to the ground crew, or because she had a good poker face--ended up winning quite often, and the various members of the ground crew won the rest of the hands...usually apologizing to Sarge when they beat him.

As a result, for Hanako, the time seemed to fly by.  For Vance, it was interminable.  But, finally, the alert sounded and the announcement came over ship-wide PA--"All Veritech pilots to your fighters, standby for launch orders within the next five minutes."

On the bridge, expressions were grim.  The Invictus had reached range where it should have had sensor contact with the James Madison...and couldn't even raise the ship on communications.  They were proceeding with full active sensors, hoping to find something...anything...that would let them know what was going on.

The comm came to life.  "Ranger Command, this is Commander Davis of the Invictus.  We're getting some kind of sensor read, but it's...hazy..."

Captain Wilson keyed his comm panel.  "'Hazy', Commander?  Can you give us something more to go on than that?"

"The mass reading corresponds roughly with the James Madison, Sir, but we're not getting a solid read.  We're still at extreme range, Sir, and there's still no response to any of our hails, but..."  He went silent for a moment, then came back on.

"Sir, we're picking up multiple distress beacons...from roughly the same location."

"Hold your position, Commander, we're only seconds behind you.  If this is some kind of alien trick, I'd rather send the fighters in first..."  He turned to his flight control officer.

"In thirty seconds, launch Echo Squadron to intercept the James Madison," he said, with a look out the viewports.

"Assuming that she's still intact enough to wear the name," he added, in a low voice.

The Invictus appeared on sensors first, then viewscreens, then was actually visible through the viewports, as the Ranger came up alongside, dropping speed to match.  "Signal the other ships...rally on this location, we'll proceed from here when we've got everyone."

As he gave the order, comm officers commenced sending out scrambled tight-beam transmissions.  At the same time, the flight officer gave the order, "Echo Squadron, proceed to launch.  You'll be given flight coordinates in space."

When the alert sounded, Vance dropped his cards haphazardly on the table.  "Thank goodness," he muttered under his breath...he'd been taking a beating in the game, and the few times he'd gotten decent cards, everyone else had bailed out quickly...except for the one or two times when someone had a much better hand than he did.  He wasn't totally bereft of credits...but he'd have to be picky about what he got at the commissary for the next week or two.

He popped his helmet on as he ran to his fighter, his ground crew right on his heels, and they began removing the ladder the moment his feet were off it.  It felt like an age, but was only a relatively few seconds, before the order to launch came, and as it sounded over the plane's comm system and the launch-deck PA, he looked out the window.  Sarge gave him a thumb's-up and signaled that he was clear, he firewalled his throttle and the catapult flung him into space, combat-ready.

The Veritechs of Echo Squadron raced ahead of the Ranger and Invictus, their sensors and comm systems lighting up with over a dozen individual distress beacons.  The emergency transmitters sent the signals out further than the sensors on the Veritechs could reach, and they could vector in on the source of the beacons before they actually registered anything there.

As they approached the last known location of the James Madison, however, it appeared, at first, as though the sensors were faulty...rather than a single clean read on a ship, there was a widely dispersed signal.  The reason for that became apparent as they moved into visual range.

The primary hull of the James Madison was in at least five larger sections, floating in a cloud of debris.  What was left of the engineering section was actively venting drive plasma, and secondary and tertiary explosions were still going off, each one tweaking the spin of that particular remnant into ever-more-erratic rotations.  With the exception of the ongoing explosions, no lights were visible in any of the sections.

The sources of the distress beacons became apparent...the remains of several Veritechs were floating in the debris cloud.  Some of them were massively damaged planes with the cockpits still intact, a few were planes whose cockpits had ejected and activated the emergency beacons.  More than a couple were planes whose catastrophic damage engulfed the cockpit...these were indistinguishable from the debris of the shattered James Madison until Echo Squadron was almost right on top of them.

None of them had any active communications...and visual inspection of the intact cockpits or ejection pods revealed no sign of motion.  The only way to know if there were survivors would be to recover the bodies and hope they were alive.

Vance found himself agape at the wreckage, and it took him a moment to get himself back together, mentally.  "<TC>Ranger, this is Echo One.  The James Madison is gone...bits and pieces.  It looks like Fox Squadron got caught in the attack...most of them are still here, but none of the Veritechs are operational and I can't yet report on the condition of any of the pilots.  We're commencing salvage operations, but it appears as though any aliens in the area have moved off...not registering anything on our scopes beyond the debris field here.  I think you're safe to move in..."

He wasn't big on taking any major chances, though.  "<TC>Echo Seven through Echo Twelve, set up a picket and get us advance notice if anything else is coming into the area.  Once the Ranger catches up with us, we'll get Bixby out in his bird to help and pull a couple of you to help salvage.  The rest of us, start rounding up ejection pods and the more intact planes, let's have them ready to take back aboard once the Ranger gets here."  As he spoke, he transitioned his fighter into Guardian mode...searching the debris was something that he wanted the better mobility of a Guardian for.  Once they'd located everyone, he'd consider going to Battloid for the improved manipulation of anything they were recovering.

This was the second time Hanako had to perform Search and Rescue in a place where the chance of survivors was slim to none, and it was still an emotionally trying exercise.  It would probably always be like that - all she could hope for was to be able to hold back the emotions and keep a cool head so she could do her job and save the most people she could.  "<TC>Roger that, Echo Lead.  Initiating Search and Rescue procedures," she replied, her voice calm and cool.  Her squad mates could tell, however, that she was clearly holding herself together through sheer willpower.  Choking back tears, she began to follow the standard procedure, moving her spotlight over the various bits of wreckage and debris in her area and cutting her radio before she started letting the tiny sobs she was fighting back escape into the ears of the others.

The various planes of Echo Squadron set about their tasks, joined very quickly by Bixby in the Two-Ex, the plane's enhanced sensor gear and onboard coordination of input from the various planes establishing a more secure perimeter.

In some cases, recovering the cockpits that had ejected was obviously a case of corpse retrieval...shattered canopies revealed pilots who'd barely had time to trigger the ejection before a fatal pass by an enemy craft had finished the pilot as thoroughly as the plane.  Others were not so easy to guess at.  A couple of the Veritechs had been effectively shattered before the ejection could be triggered, and the cockpit was still attached to what was left of the nose of the plane.  A few others had ejected cleanly, but there was no sign of life within the cockpit.  Whether the pilots were dead, or just unconscious, it was impossible to tell.

Two cockpits showed definite signs of life...with the rest of the plane missing, it was impossible to tell for sure who was inside one...but the other was very plainly Lt. Abernathy...the visor of his helmet was shattered, and blood streamed from a cut over one eye, but he waved and gave a thumbs-up when Hanako's plane closed in on his ejected cockpit.  He said something...but either his comm system was offline, or his mic had been damaged by whatever broke his visor.

Hanako's hope of finding genuine survivors was dwindling with each wreckage and pod they found, but she did her job and passed them along the line to those running to and from the wreckage and the fleet, small as it is.  When she saw Lt. Abernathy moving and waving to her, however, she brightened considerably and relayed to everyone, "<TC>I have found a survivor!  Lt. Abernathy is alive and attempting to communicate, but it seems his comm systems are down.  Visible wounds are blood on his face with a shattered helmet visor.  Moving in to recover."  Switching to Guardian mode, she moved her Veritech so that the two cockpits were facing one another and reached out to take hold of the cockpit Abernathy resided within.  Once she had a solid grip, she began to carefully maneuver them to a safe position and pulled out a survival flashlight to start blinking morse code to him in the hopes he'd get the idea and reply if possible.  If he had something important to say, it would be better to hear it now than when he finally got back to the fleet.

"EXTRACTINGSTOPADVISEIFIMPORTANTSTOP."

Second lieutenant Parker Andrew Harvey had been aboard the ship, the Ranger for a only a short while now.  Before they shipped out for Mars, he was part of the restocking of crew lost in earlier battles.  He had been working on projects to help finalize the integration of the experimental fighters into the ship’s compliment.  The young man had already earned the reputation for being friendly if not a little flighty with his hair color.  This month he had his hair dyed bright red, as a personal choice.  He was excited to be here, but as of yet, had not been out on any combat missions.  Parker was one of the thrill seeking youths who just wanted to fly.  He drove the veritech out to the launch catapult and then sat there awaiting the launch command by the shooter.  The crewman, whoever he was seemed to enjoy his job.  He did his rhythmic hand movements and Parker gave him the salute to show he was ready.  The engines roared as he prepared to launch.  There was no sound in space of course, but Parker always liked to imagine the WHOOSH of the catapult as he shot off into space. He was rather impatient a lot of the time.  The cockpit was the only area he seemed to be able to relax.

Parker was able to stay in formation with the others of his squad as they approached the location of the James Madison.  An audible gasp escaped his lips involuntarily when he saw the condition of the ship and Fox squad.  This had been a massacre.  The aliens can do all this?  Holy crap we have our work cut out for us.  Parker immediately started in with the others of the squad to search for survivors.  He was assigned his own section.  She transformed to guardian mode to be able to carefully move debris to try to aid himself in his search.  Parker saw some gruesome reminders of the dangers of being shot down in space.  Body parts, frozen in the chill of deep space, were most of what he found.  He was glad he had a light breakfast this morning.  He didn't want to have to clean the inside of his helmet again like back in training...  he shuddered to think of that so he swallowed hard and kept on working.  The only bright spot in the day’s activities was when Echo Three…  Hanako was her name he recalled, had found a survivor.

Parker finished his sweep and was disappointed but not yet surprised to find just corpses…  or rather parts of corpses.  “This is Echo Four, negative life signs in my section.  Echo Three, do you require assistance?”  Parker said over the tactical net to the rest of his squad.  He was eager to do something that might have a positive outcome today.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:12, Sat 03 May 2014.

Looking pained, but still smiling, Dutch gave a halting thumbs-up through the cockpit, then leaned back in his seat and started working on removing what was left of his flight helmet.

Throughout the debris field, others were working to recover the cockpits that still seemed intact, even if they couldn't determine the condition of the pilot...by the time everyone reported in, seven of the twelve planes from Fox Squadron had recoverable cockpits.  How many of those seven pilots would be able to operate a plane was another question...

Vance continued searching through the debris, as more and more calls were made reporting intact, or presumably intact, cockpits were made.  He began checking off the numbers in his head, habitually counting off planes and pilots.

Seven pilots recovered...five unaccounted for.  None of the planes would be serviceable, but someone with more expertise than he had would have to decide how much of which planes was salvageable.

Given the limited resources available...that the majority of the Veritech construction facilities had disappeared with the SDF-1 and Macross City...it was a major blow to the capabilities of the UEDF.  "<TC>Ranger, Echo Lead.  I think we're safe to send out the salvage craft.  Hopefully, between the cockpit data recorders, we'll be able to piece together what happened...but I don't think we're likely to find many more survivors with the Veritechs.  Any survivors on the destroyer are so deep in the hull that we're not getting any indicators of their presence...maybe clearing some of the debris will improve the clarity of sensor readings."

The resignation in his voice was clear, even to him.  He didn't expect to find anyone else.  The destruction was pretty thorough...

Parker muted his mic and let out a sigh of relief.  Apparently he had been in the section that had the most KIA's with the destroyed cockpit modules.  The others were finding survivors which made him feel a little better about what they had found here.  he swung his guardian around and switched to jet form once again.  He loved the tickle of the thinking cap as he thought through the transformation in the blink of an eye.  He hit his mic off mute and then to transmit on the team channel.  "Echo Four to Echo Lead, should I proceed to perimeter patrol while the salvage craft come out or would you rather I stay and assist them?"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:19, Mon 19 May 2014.

Wanting to raise their morale as much as she could in the situation, Hanako sent a final message in Morse code to Dutch, attempting to bring a bit of light to the otherwise dark situation.  The last message he got from her before she started gently towing him back to the Ranger was short, simple, and to the point.

"KISSKISS"

As she transported him back, she kept an eye on his canopy, not wanting any cracks or leaks to form due to carelessness.  She fully intended to live up to her earlier promise, too.  He'd earned it.  But just one, on the cheek.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:22, Mon 19 May 2014.

Vance was thankful he was on an audio-only feed at the moment.  The dour expression he felt on his face wouldn't be conducive to maintaining squadron morale.  "<TC>Four, go ahead and join the picket formations on the perimeter.  Just because they've left the area doesn't mean the aliens won't come back by to look at their handiwork, and we don't want to be caught unaware if they do."

"Four Copies."  Parker said with a slight sigh of relief.  He didn't want to be sifting through more body parts for a while if he could help it.  He punched the throttle and quickly went to the edge of the area and took his place in the perimeter patrol.  He kept one eye on the 3D radar and the other on Mark-One Eyeball--or visual scanning for threats...

The planes of Echo Squadron who had managed to locate survivors began the return to the Ranger, their precious cargo being given priority handling.  At the same time, maintenance pilots in the salvage and maintenance pods moved out into the debris field, trying to sort out what was nothing more than scrap metal from what could actually be repaired or rebuilt or cannibalized for parts.

The other planes moved out to flying at the edge of Ranger's sensor range, with their own sensors dialed up to maximum, as Chief Bixby tapped into the various planes' systems and tied them to the processors in the Two-Ex.

For the time being, at least, the space around them appeared clear...

2nd Lieut. Cain Edwards had gotten fast tracked to the Ranger pilot roster but due to the already established Squadrons found himself initially to Fox Squadron filling out the axillary combat Squadron.  It had grated him to be stuck in basically a support role...but figured attrition would take its toll and he would get moved up to more active duty.  However, when it happened it made him sick to think his step-sister 2nd 'Lieut.' Nina Petrovic had been the one he'd replaced in Echo.  She had gotten a bigger dose of radiation sickness from the explosion of the Rebel bombs than had been expected and was bed-ridden while the medics tried to work a miracle.  Cain felt like crap... it felt almost like he'd wished for one of the Echo pilot's to 'bite-it' just so he could get his shot a so actual combat action.

He'd gone to visit Nina in th einfirmary.. she looked bad... but she was in good spirits.  Cain was still not sure how to feel about her... heck until he got assigned to the ARMD-07 "RANGER" he'd never even knew he had a step sister!  Nina had confronted him!  Told him who her illegitimate father was.  Apparently, she knew of Cain and had kept an eye on his service record... seems she knew his father also took an interest in Cain's military service records.  Cain was not sure how to feel about that.  Nina was older then him by a couple years, and Cain was so use to his little sister, Alia's, practical hero-worship of Cain; he wasn't sure how to feel about an older sibling that he knew practically nothing about!  But considering the unmitigated JERK that his father was... leaving a trail of broken homes, hearts and bastards was just his style!  The thought of his father's sardonic half-sneer / half-leer of a smile raised the bile in his throat!  One day he'd have a reckoning with that waste of a man.  Cain knew one thing... Nina was family .. they shared the same blood... even if it was their only-good-for-target-practice father, 'Captain' T.R. Edwards. Nina was blood.. and he'd fight just as hard for her as for his beloved little Alia and his mother; but for now.. Cain was Echo 5, he had a job to do...

"<TC> Echo 5 to Echo Lead.  Sir, I've been watching the wreak of~..er ... the debris field from the James Madison.  Sir, I know we got a picket of Raven Squadron around the far-perimeter... but sir if I were the enemy... I'd not be trying to hide out in open space... with all our overlapping sensors on max sensitivity! If we were out there sir... we would have been spotted by now.  No, If I were the enemy... I'd be hiding some of those little nasty fighters within the debris field waiting for the chance to spring an ambush when our Veritechs are on the picket too far away to get back in time to stop a blitz on the Ranger.  Why leave all these pilots alive for us to rescue sir?"

"The Zents seemed to have had time to clear the area completely... as we are not picking up any of their ships even on long range!  So why not just kill all the helpless pilots before leaving?  I think I'd want to draw us in and while we're collecting our pilots and set up with our fighters  on wide perimeter scanning for an early warning... that's when I'd spring a lightning strike from the debris field and kill our only capital ship the Ranger!  It's what I'd do at least."

"Sir, I'm requesting permission to take Echo 11 and do a intense focused sensor sweep of the debris field, Sir?"
This message was last edited by the player at 08:30, Sun 25 May 2014.

Parker banked his veritech as he continued the sweep of the picket line.  He was still trying to push the images of body parts, frozen in the vacuum of space bouncing off his canopy while he searched.  Then the radio blared to life and his spirits perked up at the suggestion by Echo 5.  His depression over having the misfortune of finding pretty much all the dead people in the initial search seed to be forgotten. He checked his scanners and gave a slight cheer.  He couldn't hit his CommNet transmit button fast enough, trying to sound like a calm professional on the team channel. "Echo 4 to Echo Lead, I'm closer to Echo 5's position.  I could give him cover while we perform the detailed search, sir...  Uh just in case the enemy is hiding there he'll need a wingman."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:48, Sun 25 May 2014.

Cain chuckles, triggering his Comm again, "<TC> Echo 5 here, a clarification, I was requesting to take Echo 11 with me as MY wingman to do the sweep.. but if you're volunteering to keep an eye on us from your picket position, Echo 4, it would be appreciated!  I'd never ask someone to do something I was not already volunteering for."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:49, Sun 25 May 2014.

"Echo 4 here, clarified, range to target debris is one third better than Echo 11.  I think...  I recommend  swapping 11 for my spot makes, uh logical sense.  For speedy response.  I can meet Echo 5 at the edge if the target zone."  Parker said facepalming, glad he was on audio only for that one.

Cain looked at the telemetry... saw the positioning of the Veritechs on the perimeter sensor net and concurred, "<TC> Echo 5 here, Copy Echo 4.  Echo leader... request revising request... Echo 4 is in a better position than Echo 11 to assist me in my sensor sweep. Please advise Echo Leader."
This message was last edited by the player at 12:59, Sun 25 May 2014.

Vance grinned a little to himself...a grim-faced version of the expression.  "<TC>Echo Five, I appreciate your enthusiasm...but you're apparently unfamiliar with the sensor suite on the Two-Ex.  If there were any alien craft lurking in the debris field, Chief Bixby would have pinpointed them and sent us gunning already...unless they were totally powered down and completely blind.  Besides, we've been through most of the debris field searching for survivors...anything resembling one of the alien craft would have been pretty apparent, unless they managed to tuck up inside what's left of the hull of the Madison.  I'm far more worried about an approaching alien patrol or even one of their larger ships than I am about the possible presence of a few stray battlepods in the debris."

Cain shook his head {Figures! I get the Lead with no imagination.  'Lack of imagination is the best way to underestimate an unknown enemy'... }

Cain adjusts his sensor arrays to full thermal scanning of the debris field... filtering out any truly hot sources but searching for any stationary heat signatures... like a cooling drive using only station keeping thrusters to hold position in a shifting debris field.

His hands gently adjusting his not his course but his orientation to face the debris field... taking advantage of the fact he would continue on the same course he was assigned regardless of his actual facing... {Gotta love zero-G... that is, Until it Kills You!}

Triggering his Comm, "<TC> Echo 5 to Echo Lead.  I take it that's a negative permission on a close up focused scan of the debris field sir?"

Cain grimaced to himself, {Don't get testy Cain... the Lead is just doing what he 'thinks' is best even if it is short-sighted and lacks imagination of what the enemy would be willing to do.  'Only a few stray battle pods', could easily mean 'only a few' Suicide Nukes aimed at our one functional carrier.  I've seen the data from the past fights with the Zents... self-preservation is NOT high on their pilot's priorities!  I'll just keep my eyes open all the same in that debris field... when lack of imagination bites this kid on the ass... hopefully not at the cost of good pilots.  Besides who knows.. I could be jumping at shadows... but I really hate it when I'm right about tings like this... usually means someone dies for it. sigh~}
This message was last edited by the player at 06:58, Tue 27 May 2014.

"<TC>Echo Lead, if he's REALLY that determined to take a look, you just as well let him.  Newcomers never seem to grasp the value of an EWO in the field until they've exhausted their own resources.

For what it's worth, the ion trails leaving the area indicate a different ship class than we've encountered before...larger than the combat pods, but not quite the scale of the larger warships we've dealt with, either.  My read is, they've cleared out of the area...if operational protocols didn't require patrol planes in the air in a combat zone, I'd suggest everyone going back home and getting some sleep, but I'm not sure the Old Man would appreciate that."

A dour voice cut in.  "And you'd be correct, Chief.  Echo Lead, if your pilot feels like he's got some reason to scan the debris field, let him.  Given the fact that your entire squadron has been all over that field for the last half-hour, now, I'm pretty confident he won't find anything.  But you can never be too careful."

Cain rolled his eyes, {Great.. I'm gonna catch hell over this... when we get back!!}

"Shit!  First day... and I'm already 'making friends'...{sigh}..."

Triggering his comm while keeping his eyes on his telemetry, "<TC> Echo 5 here.  Sorry Sirs, I don't want to be difficult or insubordinate... we've ALL lost a lot of good friends and pilots in this interstellar war we didn't start.  I just hate surprises... especially the lethal ones!  I'm perfectly aware of the specifications of an EWO in the field... and I know of a myriad of ways to fool a sensor sweep.  I also know we don't know a fraction of what we need to know about the enemy and what they can potentially do.  I-I... I just... care about my fellow squadron members and the ship crews. I want everyone going home.  And.. I take it Personally if someone dies because.. I was careless or didn't give that little extra effort that might have meant them seeing another day... or going home in a body bag... if at all."

"I'll follow whatever orders I'm issued sir... but I'd feel better if a detailed focused scan of that debris field was made. I'll do it myself alone if you don't want excessive resources used to do so.. but I won't disobey any orders issued Sir! So, I'll leave it to your discretion Sir and drop it. Echo 5 out."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:46, Thu 29 May 2014.

Parker got excited all over again.  The disappointment of the idea being shot down forgotten already.  He checked the scanners, still less distance than the others of the squadron...  barely but he technically had the advantage over the others other than Echo 5. "Echo 4 still proximity of the field to assist the other unit as needed...  uh, sirs."  He chimed in, trying hard not to let his excitement bleed through the comm...  but it probably was still evident from how quickly he had added his bit after Echo 5 had spoke up.

Vance chuckled.  It seemed like another lifetime, but he could remember when he was the gung-ho pilot that was eager to do anything and everything possible.  He keyed his mic.

"<TC>Ummmm...Lieutenant...Edwards, yes?"  Getting new blood transferred onto the Ranger--and into his squadron--was uncommon, and it had been a while since he'd had to try and put new names, faces, and voices together.

"If I know Chief Bixby at all, he's had his Two-Ex collating detailed sensor information from all of us since he went wheels up.  Our sensor feeds automatically route through his plane, and he's got better data processing systems than we'll EVER get in these birds.  If he says the debris field is clear, I trust him.  At this point, I'm more concerned about early warning if another alien patrol happens to come along, so we've got time to get the salvage crews back aboard the Ranger instead of stuck out there, defenseless, hoping we can hold off the enemy at a safe distance.

That being said, if it will make you feel safer about where your backside's pointed, go ahead and do your sweep.  I'd rather the two of you take a few minutes to reassure yourselves than get you out there and have you splitting your attention between the debris field and everywhere else.  But, keep in mind, the Chief has been flying these kinds of missions since before the aliens ever attacked...I'm a big believer in the accuracy of his survival instincts."

Cain listened pondering what Echo Lead was saying... {So humoring me eh? Fair enough.. doesn't matter ... I get to at least to take a closer look.}

"<TC> Yes Sir, Lieut. Cain Edwards.  Acknowledged Sir, proceeding."

"<TC> Echo 5 to Echo 4.  I'm beginning my sweep... linking telemetry with you.  I'm going to send you a series of Deep Radar Scan pulses as I search the field.  Set your distance to me at 2,000'ft.  Go Guardian mode we're going to get in close... Guardian mode will be more agile that close to the debris.  Cover me with your GU-11, no Missiles, if I flush anything out of hiding.. let's hope there really IS nothing here!  Got it?"

With that Echo 5 broke formation thrusters blaring in the coarse adjustments as he flew into the debris field main drives at 20%.

"<TC> Echo 5, Battloid mode.  Beginning sweep."

The Veritech shift going into Battloid mode GU-11 gun pod held in its left fist ...

Cain scanned the floating debris visually and found what he was looking for ... a random piece of torn hull plating a little bit larger than his Veritech's chest and wings an almost as tall.. a perfect tower shield.  Verniers fired and with his off hand Cain snagged the piece of floating scrap and pulled it close to his battloid's shoulder, aiming his Gun Pod around the edge of his make shift shield... with a few discreet blasts of his head laser at close range for some convenient hand holds and to remove some rough edges on his make-shift 'shield' - Cain was ready.

"Now if I were an enemy fighter craft and I knew the enemy would be coming through with a surveillance high-resolution sensor bird... where would I hide?  Well of course, very close to the largest pieces of rubble in the field keeping it between me and the sensor bird hugging the sensor shadow... powered down as much as possible."

Calling up the IFF Tactical display Cain painted on his tactical the location of the EWO sensor bird and plotted his previous course based upon his current position.  At least one good thing was nobody else got the bright idea to move off the Echo Leads carefully orchestrated sensor sweep... carefully orchestrated - and predictable.

[OOC: Not sure whether there is a VEF-1 or VEF-2X out here or if the EW is only from the Armed Carrier so I'm assuming its a VEF-1 in the Squadron poassibly more than one.]

Cain smiled, "Let's get a little ..random."

Then Cain's Battloid dove into the the debris field spinning, shifting altering course, literally skipping from one piece of debris to another.  At Regular intervals his Radar pulsed to scan a cluster of debris or another ignoring some completely but sometimes pulsing other clusters more than one.

It seemed at first random.. but as Echo 4 watched a pattern revealed itself. Cain was deep scanning the previous sensor shadows the rubble field would undoubtedly have had that the EWO Surveillance craft would have invariably not been able to clearly scan on its initial pass.

As for his piloting - it was risky, aggressive, and completely without what one would consider a, 'healthy level of fear...', but a certain level of brilliance to the maneuvering was clearly evident!  The 'shield' Cain had jury-rigged was clearly only meant to be a distraction should he discover anything hiding in the field to provide just a bit of initial cover so he could not be easily sniped as he... literally, 'looked under every big rock in the field'.

He started making his way toward the five large chunks of what was left of Oberth-class DDSG "James Madison" Missile Destroyer, it was a display of piloting that was quite impressive as Cain's Veritech danced from floating chunk to floating chunk through the debris field.

As he made his way around Cain tagged anything that might be survivors or bodies to be recovered.  Cain also switched to a Direct laser comm with Echo 4 when the debris field began to interfere with radio transmissions.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:20, Fri 30 May 2014.

Parker was practically there before the other pilot was.  As soon as the sweep was authorized, he went full throttle to meet him.  He even got in a few maneuvers to dodge a few odd pieces of debris.  The switch from fighter to guardian midroll to avoid a chunk of hull he looked up to notice that it actually had part of someone's bunk attached to it. Just the wall mount and a few springs but the young veritech pilot had seen those springs enough to identify it.   That wasn't was grabbed his attention however.   There was a tattered poster of some celeberty singer even still attached to the wall as well.  Parker thought it was odd how that kind of thing happened.  With all the destructive power that was obviously leveled against the ship, something so delicate as a poster could survive it was amazing.  Parker shook his head and focused on the task at hand.  He was initially annoyed at the other pilot trying to tell him what he should be doing with his weapons.  The gun pod gripped in the right hand if his guardian right now.  "Echo 4 on station...  Believe it or not I understand how to cover ya, Echo 5.  I kinda figured missiles would be unwise at this close of range.  Or should I say Echo Knight with your new accessory there?"  Parker chuckled.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:47, Fri 30 May 2014.

Cain hears the hint of indignation in his tone and chuckles across the comm, "<TC> Sorry Echo 4.  My bad, don't mean to micro-manage.  I'm use to having raw recruits as Wingman from Fox Squadron... taking some getting use to not having to worry over tactical flubs like that.  This is Echo Squadron... the Best of the Best on Ranger!  Nice to know I got people who have been in a fight backing me.  Fox wasn't my first Squadron... but it was my first Veritech Wing.  I flew some real engagements... not big mind you, minor policing actions but some combat before joining Ranger.  But most of Fox seemed to have never been in combat... kinda made 'em all a bit jittery and trigger-happy."

"As for the shield... well first rule in a gun-fight, 'always take cover when you can get it'.  This piece of scrap won't stop a full long burst or do anything more than dull the hit somewhat of a short range missile... but its just a small precaution... might give me a one-shot edge.  It'd be silly to keep it in a long-term real fight it'll unbalance my verniers trying to compensate for the mass and I can't go to jet mode with it gripped in my battloid hand... though it does sort of make me look kinda 'knight-like'! {snicker}.. my little sister, Alia would love a pic.  Anyways, let's try to keep our chatter to a minimum until we know there is nothing actually out here... focus on the sweep.  If you want to get in here and do some up-close searching as well that's fine with me.  I'll cover you in return... and we'll sweep this field that much faster."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:19, Sat 31 May 2014.

"No problemo Five.  Just change to 243.235.223, uh yeah that piece of debris there looks suspicious to me." Readied his forward HUD cams, Parker planned on snapping a few his res stills of Echo 5 maneuvering with his shield if he would just turn a bit...  The thought of making a kid happy warmed his heart.  An orphan, Parker had no real siblings, but had kept in touch with the daughter of one of the last foster parents he had stayed at.  So it was like a sister...  The thought that occurred to the young lieutenant was:  Why don't they make veritechs with shields like that?  They aren't as heavily armored as my Monster was so a little mobile armor wouldn't hurt.  He shrugged to himself and let out a sigh as he kept covering his wingman.

Vance listened in on the conversation between the two pilots half-attentively, a crooked half-grin sneaking onto his face as he thought about his own time as a new pilot in the Ranger's operations.  It seemed like it was merely weeks ago...and a completely different lifetime, in the same moment.  It had not been that long ago, really...

What's the line from that movie?  'It's not the years, it's the mileage...'  Something like that...  Reminiscing about his less-experienced days underscored, in his mind, just how much chaos, confusion, and carnage he had seen in the few months since the aliens had attacked Earth.

He suddenly felt very old, and very tired, for a moment.  No wonder the Captain's got no sense of humor, he thought.  For all that he'd endured, Captain Wilson had probably forgotten more about war than he'd had a chance to learn yet...and while Vance had a deep and abiding respect for their CO, that moment of reflection, listening to the back-and-forth jawing of a couple of eager young pilots, gave him a new insight into the man.

As the two planes proceeded with their search, Chief Bixby in the Two-Ex kept correlating data.  "<TC>Uh...Vance?" he said, after a few minutes.

"Guess we've gotta stop giving Boy Wonder a hard time about being an overachiever.  While he hasn't turned up anything suspicious, his scans have turned up four pockets of survivors that we'd missed."  A group of salvage pods shifted course to drop in along the flight path of the two Veritechs.

"My read is, they've got enough available life support that they'd still be alive when we rounded up those sections of the ship...but if we get them aboard first, by the time we get back, Captain Wilson might have answers about what, exactly, happened here..."  There was a pause...and then he added, "Good work, kid."

It was hard to tell, on the audio-only feed he was using, whether his voice was pained at having to grant the accolade, or amused that the effort had actually produced some result beyond what he'd predicted.

Cain listens to the EWO Officer, Chief Bixby's report, across the Comm net silent for a few uncertain moments at the complement...

"<TC> Ah.. Thank you Sir.  And sorry to be so pushy sir, not my intention, Sir.  My fellow service members are my family sir... I'm always willing to go the extra mile for their sakes. If at all possible... I never leave a man behind... alive or dead."

Parker was all grins on his face as he waved the salvage group into the area with his guardian's arm.  "Come on slow pokes, we got people to save here!"  he muttered, then quickly checked his mic.  That went out on the open net.  Oops.  "I mean, over here guys...  good job guys...  and we appreciate your hard work!"  He tried to recover, face turning red as his dyed hair color.

This time he made sure to mute his mic so no one would hear him  "Damnit, why isn't this mic control on mute all the time!"  Parker jetted out of the way and continued to follow Cain.  He was his wingman until further notice after all.

With Raven Squadron watching closely over the Ranger and support ships, and Echo Squadron setting up a patrol picket, the salvage teams set to work with an efficiency born from extensive practice.  The recovered pilots and salvageable fighters from Fox Squadron (NOTE: It is Revolt Squadron, not Fox Squadron, that is populated with all the green pilots) were hustled aboard, the pilots taken from their cockpits and hurried to medical.  As the planes from Echo Squadron that had taken back survivors were relieved of their escorts, they were ordered back into flight, to fill out the growing protective cordon, each single plane escorting two fighters from Revolt to fill out the formation.

Chief Bixby pored over the data streaming in from the various fighters...but with the exception of the debris field and an ion trail marking the departure of the alien craft, space seemed clear, for the time being.  Recovery of the remains of the James Madison would be a long project, however...long enough that the Ranger was ordered to remain on station while a tender was sent out from Earth to collect what was left.

That meant, effectively, a couple of days of almost-round-the-clock flying for the Ranger's Veritechs...in groups of two or three, they were sent back aboard in shifts, to get a meal and a couple of hours' sleep, before being sent back out.  Bixby had to be given a direct order, by none other than Captain Wilson himself, to take a break.
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 04:09, Thu 12 June 2014.

"Oh thank god that's over! Another boring patrol!"  Parker muttered to himself as he landed his veritech on the flight deck of the Ranger.  he had been getting better at remembering to check his mic was muted before he did that.  Parker often thought out loud when upset, it was a habit of his.  The veritech taxied in and was secured by the grounds crew while he exited the aircraft.  Parker went straight to the showers as he was feeling sticky from the time in his flightsuit.  He then went back to his bunk where he started reading a novel he had been trying to get through for months now: a novel based on the exploits of a fictional veritech ace turned military investigator who uncovers a plot to steal the protoculture matrix for a private company.  It was really well written and came highly recommended by several of Parker's former academy friends...  he was just usually too busy to it lately.  Or he fell asleep like he did this time.  The book resting on his face as he lay in his bunk...  This happened often.  Eat sleep, patrol, sleep, eat patrol.  The order of things seemed as unimportant so long as they were all present.

Cain brought his Veritech in .. by the numbers meticulous of procedures, Landing a little fast but within specs.  The techs maneuvered the arrested Veritech into position to maintenance  the servos.. mostly to look for any errant damage from debris or micro-meteorites, as Veritechs with the protoculture power plants never ran out of fuel... but their pilots did frequently.

Cain waited in the cockpit going over his serch patterns records and cross referencing them with how the dibris cloud was shifting so his next partol would cover the areas oldest int he scan pattern again.

"<TC-Flight Control> Echo 5, Chief says no more volunteering for additional patrols.  That's your 3rd in a row. Doc says, it's rack time, Now."

Cain grimaced, then sighed.. he was dead on his feet tired.

"<TC> Echo 5 here, Acknowledged Control. Standing down."

"<TC-Flight Control> You did all you could out their 2nd Lt. Get some rest. We need you frosty and ready not exhausted.

The Veritech was taxied on the gantries into the flight bay... no gravity made launching tricky.. but retrieval easy.

Cain waited for the unpressurized bay to give the green light to unseal his canopy and climb down.  He was more unsteady on his feet than he realized.. but eventually managed to stumble a little awkwardly from the fight deck.

Orders were ORDERS.. but Cain wanted to visit his step-sister in medical first...

He swung by the mess hall to snag a nutrition bar from an automated vendor to munch on... still in his flight suit, flight helm looped on his elbow, before making his way to the Medical ICU.

He entered the normally quiet offices and recovery rooms of the medical bay.. but they were all in a uproar now with all the survivors form the destroyer wreck of the James Madison.  The fact that still in all this his step sister still had a room attested to the seriousness of her condition.

He entered her room with doctors treating an another vacuum exposure victim not more than 10feet away.  Problem with space injuries .. most were either minor or immediately fatal.. space was NOT forgiving!  Then there were the lucky ones who got burns or radiation exposure.. the latter was the case with his step-sister 'Lieut.' Nina Petrovic.

Cain came to her bedside ..she was asleep or unconscious.  Her eyes sunken, respirator hose at her nose.. lips stained with dried blood from her coiffing..but at least that had stopped.  The doctors told him the anti-radiant drugs they were using on her were almost as dangerous as the radiation sickness.. but there was a 45% chance she'd pull through if monitored closely.

Cain barely knew her.. but she was blood of his father..he knew that could not have been easy for her to deal with.  He wanted to speak to her.. but no words he could speak now would make any difference.  He sat down in the chair next to her bed and gently took her hand holding the clammy cool flesh and leaning close whispered to her softly, "Please. Nina.. don't die!"

He held her hand and time slipped by.. he fell asleep there.. never feeling the soft squeeze of her hand in his...
This message was last edited by the player at 16:57, Wed 11 June 2014.

Vance, like just about every other Veritech pilot on the Ranger, had to be ordered to stand down for his breaks...and got himself in a heated discussion with his crew chief when he tried to shave his break short by ten minutes.  Sarge wasn't having any of it, and while his arguments were made in terms of 'academy brats' trying to second guess Command on such issues, there was no mistaking the sincere concern in his tone.  His job was to keep the plane intact, yes...but he also took it upon himself to try and keep the pilot operational, as well.

A second break came around, and Vance didn't even bother arguing at that point.  Once his plane was clear of the flight line, he got out of the cockpit and went to his quarters, flopping down on his bunk without removing his flight suit.  Sleep overtook him mere moments after he turned his head to look at the picture of his mom and family, in front of their ranch house back home...

As he slept, he found himself dreaming that he was back home, that he'd never gone to the Academy, never learned to fly...he was just sitting down to dinner with his family when the first attack hit, and he rushed outside to find alien battle pods marching on the farm.  The barn was in flames, the animals trapped inside, and as he rushed forward to do something about that, another burst of enemy fire hit the house, where his family was standing, watching him run for the barn...

He sat upright in his bed in a cold sweat, the wild-eyed grip of panic on him, and it took him a few moments to reconcile what he'd just dreamed as being just a dream, that he was out in space, that his family was safe at home...They may never understand it, but I'm their first line of defense, he told himself, as he began to settle down.

He'd just wound down enough to start thinking about dozing off again when his alarm went off, and with a groan, he forced himself back to his feet, grabbing his helmet and making his way back to his plane.  As he walked, the image of his family, standing at the door of the house, watching him try to get to the barn, just before a ball of fire engulfed them all, haunted his thoughts.  The cold dread of the thought was more bracing than any dose of caffeine, and by the time he launched again, his mind was sharp and prepared for another shift.

The edge from that nightmare was only just beginning to fade when the tender arrived, hours later, and the planes were ordered back aboard the Ranger.

The tender rounded up the remaining wreckage in short order...and while the Veritechs were recalled, Captain Wilson kept a couple sitting on alert...just in case.  Once the tender was done, however, the entire group started back toward Earth.

"Shouldn't we be worrying about where the escape rocket from the rebels was headed?" Commander Keyes asked the captain.

With a shake of his head, Donovan replied, "We're down an entire squadron of fighters, right now, even if we weren't missing pilots to fly them.  We were fortunate enough to recover most of the reactor plants from Fox Squadron.  We need to take those back.  While the factories back on Earth can produce the airframes, without the technology aboard the SDF-1, they can't make any more reactors to power them and conventional reactors just don't cut it in heavy traffic out here.  We can rely on Earth tracking stations...or maybe someone on the Moon Base...to puzzle out where the rocket was headed.  We need to get what we've recovered back to one of the orbital factories so they can put together enough planes to let us reconstitute Fox Squadron.  One experienced fighter squadron is not going to last long the next time the aliens attack...I wish I could say I had enough faith in Revolt Squadron to take up the slack, but there are just too many green pilots.  We can't turn this into a repeat of Japan's World War II experience and keep throwing away all our best pilots and hoping that the newcomers somehow manage to somehow make up for their lack of experience in enthusiasm."  His tone was grim.

It often was, but it was apparent the loss of Fox Squadron...and the destroyer James Madison...hit him hard.  Anastasia nodded, her eyes on the deck as the captain's tone, more than his words, made her feel chastised.  The fate of the whole planet in our hands, perhaps, and I want to run off after a few rebels?  There wouldn't have been enough of them on board to even man a fighter squadron, much less set up some kind of attack...

Lt. Commander Ritter said nothing as he stood by...his expression was inscrutable, but he added, "Excellent call, Captain.  We have to keep our focus on the task at hand."

Capt. Wilson looked at him, and said nothing, but nodded in response.