Updated 10.5.1998

Kampfgruppe III/KG14
Delta Station
6 August, 2193

The ships of III/KG14 held at the final jump station silently awaiting the word to execute the transit to Röt Hafen. The jump distance was less than one light year. This would allow for the smallest possible spherical error probability (SEP). A zero percent SEP would mean that the ships had transited exactly where they expected., ensuring a tight formation. Unfortunately that seldom happened in real life. However the smaller the jump and the more time spent preparing for it brought greater accuracy.

II/KG14 actually consisted of two separate formations. The main body consisted of one was led a super dreadnought, the KRS Tirpitz. The Escort Cruiser Schöngau would not leave its side throughout the operation. Two Richthofen class battle cruisers, the Derrflinger and the Scharnhorst comprised the main striking power. A screen of four missile destroyers, the von Stueben, Galland, Trautloff and the RNS Ajax, rounded out the first formation. The Tirpitz carried a dozen fighters from Jasta 26

A second force consisted of the NAC light carrier RNS Ark Royal, with the Escort cruiser RNS Achilles, and the destroyers, Bainbridge and Cummings. Ark Royal's fighter compliment was 24. The fighter groups would be conducting a strike against two orbital defense platforms covering the Western Hemisphere. Finally, two other vessels would play a key part in the strike. The Köhl was already hidden in system, and in the general vicinity of the anticipated battle area. She would remain cloaked and would catalogue every detail of the Kra'Vak response. Finally there was the RNS Meadows. This small, special-purpose, insertion vehicle from No. 160 Special Operations Group would be inserting the two specialists requested by ODA 946. The Meadows would be conducting it's own FTL transit then going into cloak right after they entered the system.

All crew were at General Quarters as they prepared to jump. Fighter pilots were waiting in their ships. Their most vulnerable moment would be the minutes after they transited into the system. It would take vital minutes for the crews to come out of warp effect and systems to come back on line. However the odds of actually warping in on top of an enemy fleet in the vast openness of space was miniscule.

Without a doubt the two most nervous individuals in the battlegroup were Lieutenant Hanley and Lieutenant Commander Gibbons aboard the RNS Meadows. Both were experienced weapons technicians with specialization in the care and feeding of nuclear weapons. The First Combined Assault Fleet had been combed for anyone matching their skills and they had been selected. Neither had any experience in field operations nor were they too keen to make the hazardous insertion. Two intensive days of weapons handling and survival training did little to ease their frayed nerves. Yet they were both long-serving military officers so they would do as ordered.

The fact that the professionals of No. 160 Group were inserted them offered some consolation. Known in the Special Ops community as the "Night Stalkers", they had been in this business for over 200 years. The quite competence and professionalism exuded by the crew of the Meadows helped allay their fears of the insertion. Accompanying them for the ride in was Sergeant Major Mullen of A Company, 5 SAS. It was his men down on the planet's surface, and he wanted to make sure that this precious package arrived on schedule. He had undertaken their preparatory training personally and felt it only proper that he accompany them on the Meadows.

Lieutenant Jimmy "Beak" Thompson awoke with a start. It seemed he'd been out for hours, but the Domotril B injection had only rendered him unconscious for three minutes. He quickly reoriented himself to the inside of his cockpit. The fighters' computer had already conducted a full self-diagnostic of its systems and was displaying green across the board. Thompson shook the last cobwebs from his mind and tried to relax in his seat by regulating his breathing.

"Jump SEP .03%"

"Thank you, Natty."

Excellent, he thought. Right on the money. The Ark Royal would be making its run to the launch point. He could see nothing of the space outside his cockpit, since his fighter was enclosed inside the launch bay together with the rest of No. 16 group.

"Release point in five minutes."

Five minutes. Might as well be five hours! Thompson busied himself by rechecking his ECM instruments. He would play a key role in his squadron as defense suppression, also known as "wild weasel". It would be his job to suppress enemy scanning attempts, apply squadron countermeasures and otherwise interfere and degrade enemy's targeting during the approach to the defense platform they were to destroy. His target was designated "Stumpy".

Once he completed the checks, Thompson switched one of his multi-function displays (MFD) to external feed and linked into the Ark Royal. He wanted to get a good view of the space outside. It looked like space anywhere else, but it made him feel better.

At times like this Thompson was always struck by the dichotomy of being a fighter pilot. Here he sat in his own one-man ship, somewhat in control of his own fate. On the other hand, he was but a tiny part of an immense operation. His fate was mostly decided and sealed by the decisions of some old guy with more scrambled eggs on his cap then he'd had for breakfast.

Still he knew his ship and that would be of some consolation. She was a General Dynamics/Venodyne GR11 Greyhound. Designated officially as an attack fighter, she was perhaps a tad less nimble in a straight up dogfight, (though no self respecting Greyhound pilot would ever admit it The Greyhound's real strength lay in strike role and especially anti-shipping attacks. She had four ordnance hardpoints and carried two AL-66 argon lasers with the new focussed ceramic diode. The laser was cryogenically cooled to near absolute zero between shots allowing for an incredible efficient energy throughput.

Thompson's Greyhound, Number 211, was configured for wild weasel and would be carrying no antiship missiles. Instead, she carried an ALQ-178 ECM pod and an ABTC-77 deception pod. Both worked in tandem The ALQ 178 provided countermeasures to enemy targeting and tracking systems. The ABTC-77's role was to work in deception mode by falsely projecting additional fighter contacts to enemy targeting systems. The 77 had dual projectors, which could turn No 16 Groups' eight fighters into 24 fighters. She could even simulate damaged or hit ships, which would often draw additional missiles or fire from enemy point and area defense platforms. Of course it had never been used against the Kra'Vak, so there was no telling how effective the system would be.

Figuring out what the Kra'Vak would be throwing at them was the role of hardpoint three's BM-66 advanced sensor array. It's function was to provide advanced sensing capabilities, both active and passive, to his ship and hence, the rest of the group through the squadron datalink. The BM-66 would analyze, catalogue and tailor Thompson's countermeasures package to the specific Kra'Vak systems.

Hardpoint Four contained Thompson's sole means of getting in a swat at the enemy. It carried a pair of Z34 DSMs (Defense Suppression Missiles). Normal tactical doctrine called for 11 group to launch her antiship salvos together. The DSMs would ride in with the salvo and provide local ECM for the package as well as target specific enemy point defense systems.

Tying all these systems together was NNAT, (or Natty, as wild weasel crews affectionately called her). NAT stood for Neural-net Anti Tracking. It was the most advanced computer system in any NAC fighter today. One NNAT computer cost more than an entire stock Greyhound. Natty would coordinate and employ all the ships systems in conjunction with the mission profile and current enemy situation. It would check with Thompson throughout the flight when it needed to ask questions or make recommendations to the flight profile. Natty essentially filled the role of the three electronic warfare officers that it would normally require to control Greyhound 211s complex systems. Of course, Thompson didn't mind Natty's alluring female voice, which made the ride a bit less lonely and impersonal.

She was an incredibly advanced single seat fighter, and Thompson loved flying her. Of course from the outside she looked the same as any other No. 11 group Greyhound. An unimaginative flat dark gray paintjob with only a single yellow unit marking stripe and the number 211 adorned her outside. Current Royal Navy regulations frowned upon garish paint schemes. This contrasted sharply with their allies in the NSL Kriegsraumflotte. KRF squadrons adopted many interesting paint schemed, many dating back to camouflage schemes their ancestors had flown in during World War Two back in twentieth century. The Schwab squadrons sure were nice to look at.

"Dog Lead to all dog elements. Stand by for a situation update on both targets. You should be receiving an update to your nav and targeting computers now with latest enemy ship positions. Rot Hafen just lit up like a christmas tree. It looks like someone kicked over an ant pile out there. The bulk of their forces, in the vicinity, are heading to III/14. Our mission profile remains unchanged. Launch in two minutes."

Thompson reviewed the downloaded data. Looked like ten ships of various sizes were heading for the main battle group. The carrier group drew the attention of three others. Several ships remained in orbit around the Dortmund station. I'll worry about all that when I get outside, he thought. He was full of nervous energy and he had to urinate badly. Too much damn coffee. He concentrated o letting go into the piss tube but couldn't. Hopefully there would be time after launch.

"Thirty seconds."

Ahead of his fighter, the launch doors opened. There was nothing to see but stars. Rot Hafen should be somewhere off to his right once he launched.

"Ten seconds." Thompson activated the reel lock on his shock frame, to help against the intial kick of launch. Below he could hear the whine of the rail launcher as its capacitor wound up.

"Three. Two. One."

Thompson was kicked back in his seat as five Gees of acceleration shot the Greyhound away from the Ark Royal. His HUD showed all systems green across the board. Once free of the Ark Royal's inertial Dampening system, 211s own dampers took over and gravity returned to 1 Gee constant.

"Nominal point designated and downloaded," said Natty.

"It's about damn time." With the nominal point designated a grid reference system was superimposed over the HUD. Human pilots, constrained by gravity, found that the feint gridlines helped with orientation. "Update group position."

"Group position on screen." The strike package heading for Stumpy, designated Strike One, consisted of four Greyhounds, three configured for strike and his configured for defense suppression. Escorting them were four No. 11 group General Dynalete F47 Griffin space superiority fighters. A similar package was heading for the other orbital defense platform, code named "grumpy". Time to target was 25 minutes. Their ships were configured for a mission length of one hour and fifteen minutes plus an additional 15-minute power reserve.

"Formation is a standard four by up and back. Let's start off with deception mode CX one."

"Deception Mode CX one is active." Strike One went from eight fighters to twenty-four in two line abreast formations separated by 20 kilometers. Or so the 77 pod would have the enemy believe.

"Anyone tracking us yet?"

"Negative."

"Dog four, Dog one. How's it looking out there?"

"All clear, threat board is silent. Deception mode set for CX one."

"Roger that, Strike two reports same same. Begin turn in to waypoint two." Strike one turned in toward Röt Hafen. The brilliant red shimmering ball hung before them like a large stop sign warning all visitors away. Perhaps it was another bad omen. Behind them, the Ark Royal had already disappeared in the distance. "Engage Auto-pilot, Nav mode C."

"Nav mode C engaged."

"OK, lets see. Natty, engage BM-66. All sensors passive only. Give me full detail on the Threat board. Let's see what we're on to."

"Displaying full detail." He studied the tactical display. Waypoint two would put them 8000 kilometers out. From there, it was a two-minute run to the initial point and then Thompson would be pretty busy. They anticipated releasing their missile salvo at 1000 kilometers.

"Natty give me fleet tactical on stud three. Might as well listen in on what's going on for a while."

"Fleet tactical frequency selected on channel three."

There wasn't much ship to ship chatter going on over the fleet channel. A few terse messages here and there but nothing that could clue him in on how the fight was going. Most of the key communications would be going through secure laser datalink ship to ship anyway.

Already Thompson's own tactical display showed a number of small contacts within the vicinity of Stumpy. He attenuated his long-range sensors to get a better fix on them but they matched nothing in the known enemy OB database. Hmm, new ships. They were still too far away to get details but their mass was roughly equivalent to a single seater. He designated the contacts as Alphas one through six. He fed the info through his laser datalink to all Dog elements.

"Dog four to all dog elements. Updating your tactical displays now. We've got six small contacts all within 500 Ks of Stumpy. I'm designating them Alpha one through Alpha six. Still too far out to get specifics but their mass is relative to a fighter. They've remained by Stumpy so it looks like they are her escort. I'm sending through a second set of contacts now, designate them Bravo one through six. Range from Stumpy: 9000 Ks. Bearing 349 off our azimuth. They look like they' may be heading behind the planet soon. I don't believe they haven't seen us yet." Thompson read a message confirmation on all fighters.

"Looks like their fighters operate in six ship squadrons." Said Dog Lead, Strike One commander.

"Roger that," said Dog one, the escort leader. "Looks like they operate in three ship elements within the squadrons." No one had ever contacted Kra'Vak fighters before so they were all seeing something new.

Two separate alarms went off in Thompson's headset, which nearly caused him to jump out of his suit. The threat warning receiver (TWR) alerted him to an active sensor scan underway from Stumpy. A second alarm warned of a second sensor type scanning high on the EM frequency band.

"For fuck's sake Natty! Set TWR volume to five. Set ALQ volume to five."

"TWR volume set to five. ALQ volume set to five." Now the fun would begin. Stumpy's sensors were reaching out to Strike One in an attempt to catalogue the intruders and getting a targeting lock. Thompson noted the different frequency band and designated responses to block each one through the ALQ-178 jammer pod. He was able to shut down the enemy scanners for less than two minutes, before they switched frequencies and scanning modes. He picked up on it instantly and directed Natty to match and block. The second jam only lasted forty-five seconds then they switched up the target tracking again. Thompson turned over control of the little fencing match to Natty.

"Waypoint two reached. Turning to IP. Battle go." On command from Dog Lead, they split into two ship elements, individual separation at five kilometers. Distance between elements: ten kilometers. Staggered displacement on the X, Y, and Z-axis. Thompson modified the deception program accordingly. Once at the IP he might be forced to break off datalink, as maneuvering became violent.

"Dog six this is Dog one. Alpha group is inbound. I'll set our intercept for three hundred kilometers. We will commence our intercept burn in thirty seconds. We're gonna pull an opposing drag on them. Suggest you shoot the gap."

"Roger that, Dog One. Will comply."

Thompson plotted out how far he would have to move his ship to cover the fighters during their engagement. It would be impossible to keep up the jamming and deception mode for two separate engagements but at least they would be covered for the merge. He took control from the autopilot and made the correction.

"Dog leader to all elements. You'll notice that Bravo group has turned and is heading our way. I calculate that they won't reach is before release but we'll have to deal with them on the way home."

Two new warning lit up on the threat board. Both Stumpy and the alphas were reaching out for them with a new sensor. UV laser. He'd attenuated the sensor system to cover that eventuality as it had been mentioned that the Kra'Vak relied heavily on UV. But the rest of Strike One would have no defense against the UV tracking other than what Thompson could give them.

"IP reached. Full military power. Begin evasion program Bravo. Release in one minutes."

"Natty from here on out lets go active. Time to start shutting them down for good."

"BM-66 active. ALQ-178 active." What that did was immediately draw a lot uncomfotable attention at his own ship. The target tracking icons swing out towards him. Natty caught and shut down each attempt. Meanwhile he continued to amass valuable information of the enemy ships. One life form, one engine. Fusion drive. No detectable missiles. Active sensors scanning on EM UHF and above. UV target tracking. In the last moments where datalink was still possible, Thompson updated Strike One.

"Natty concentrate all UV jamming on Alpha's one through six. Maintain that for thirty seconds then return to Stumpy."

"Shutting down Alpha one through six."

A moment later the call came through from Dog one. "Fight's on!"

In the vital seconds of the merge not one of the Alphas got off a shot. Two exploded from front-aspect missile attacks deliver by the Griffins. That evened the match at four vs. four. The enemy fighters split into two groups. Going after both escort elements. Each element broke one fighter wide to the outside of the formation while the second continued ahead for a few seconds. In both cases the Alphas broke after the leading fighter. Perhaps they had not had very much experience in dog fighting, as the drag and bag was one of the oldest in the book. The second fighter in each element would break back on the two pursuers chasing after the lead ship. He would then have a clear shot at both Alphas. The trick was not to lose the lead ship to a rear shot by the enemy. The advantage the dragging team had was in their pre-planned execution of the maneuver, which would give then a few vital seconds up on the enemy. Initiative was life.

There was no time for Thompson to be a spectator as the Greyhounds sped past towards the release point. He concentrated all the UV jamming back on to Stumpy and began to set up for his own weapons release. First he set the ship into an evasive jinking pattern. Together with his jamming, it would degrade the enemy firing solution. It was known that the Kra'Vak had a close in defensive system known in Navy circles as the scatter gun which as deadly effective at least out to 3000 kilometers. The BM-66 would get a good scan on the system should it be employed here.

"Self test DSM one and two."

"DSM one and two in the green."

"Arm DSM one and two and set both to mode C."

"DSM one and two armed and set to mode C."

"Set DSM one and two for automatic release."

"DSM one and two set for automatic release."

Ten seconds before the release point Natty reported that Stumpy was firing.

Spread across the front of the Greyhound formation for a hundred kilometers were a series of bright flashes. On his HUD, he saw Dog seven wink out of existence without so much as a word of warning. Luckily the deception pod continued to confuse the enemy with eighteen dummy targets or the initial scattergun volley would have been worse.

"Weapons released." Thompson went into a full power reversal as the fighter fought against Newtonian physics to reverse course. Lit up like she was, 211 was too good a target to miss at this range Thompson caught another series of flashes off to his left and this time heard a loud band. Several LEDs on the Christmas tree went from red to green. He hit the extinguisher button as he caught a glimpse of the Fire alarm flashing. Whatever hit his ship took the deception pod offline, which eliminated all the fake targets the enemy was seeing. More serious was an imminent failure on his inertial dampening system. Without the inertial dampers to counteract the inhuman Gs the Greyhound could pull, he'd turn into so much meat paste if it went off line. His heart was in his throat as he called up damage control. Flying and evading with one eye, he studied his limited repair options with the other eye. He could reroute the signal processor power and command interface through the through life support sub-system and that would keep it functioning albeit at a reduced rate. He watched as the repair timer competed with the failure-warning timer. Which would win? Snapping out of his macabre spectator view, Thompson set the g limiting governor to 15 gee, down from the 30gee it could normally take. That would keep him from pulling the ship into any maneuver that could overload the inertial dampers.

"Target destroyed." Called Red six. Thompson looked up from his life or death struggle to keep the ship going and saw that Stumpy had winked out of existence in the tactical plot.

"Inertial Damper system repaired. Warning: Do not exceed 15 gees under the present condition."

"Thank you, Natty! Remind me to buy you a drink when we get back."

"Illogical statement."

"Never mind."

With the immediate crisis averted he studied his situation. The deception pod was down for good. Life support was at half power due to having to support the inertial dampers. But that was no problem because he could live off his suit for the rest of the mission. The sensor pod was still working but datalink was inoperable. That was important because the intelligence that Thompson gathered off this mission would be priceless. If he could get it back. He thought about dumping it ahead to the Ark Royal but saw that long-range communications array was down. He'd work on that next. Also, the port side AL66 laser was disabled. He'd been hit pretty hard by something.

He studied that tactical plot carefully. Dog Leader was still alive, as was Dog six. Dog one was gone but Dogs two through four were forming back up. With the rest of Strike One having dispensed with the Alphas, the big problem was now the Bravos. Instead of undertaking a futile attempt to intercept the strike package before they released. This fighter group was wisely attempting to cut off before they reached the Ark Royal.

The survivors from Strike One formed back up and headed home. They kept a wary eye out for the bravo contacts. Thomson's attention was riveted to the damage display, watching for cascading systems failure. Dog leader led them through a number of course corrections and precautionary jinxing.

"Dog four, Dog Leader. Look here what's with your maneuvering?"

"Sorry Dog Leader, but my crate's knackered. Caught some junk back at the release point and my inertial damper's standing on one leg. So I'm a little ginger."

"Understand. Can you make it back?"

"Sure as long as I don't have to do any heavy maneuvering. Unfortunately it looks like that second group of bandits will head us off."

"Not to worry. Fleet needs that data badly. Take a direct course to Mother. The rest of Dog element will cover you. Be advised that reception escort is on the way too."

"Roger that, Lead."

"Right then, rest of Dog section, on my mark, battle go and break right...Mark" The five fighters peeled in front of 211 and headed off after the closing Kra'Vak. Thompson pushed the engines as hard as they would go. He was experiencing some odd yaw in the controls. He alternated between the damage repair display and the tactical display where he attempted to follow the confusing fight that ensued. His yaw thrusters were firing intermittently and he couldn't stop them.

"Dog Four this is Raven leader. Make your heading 262 mark 17. Raven three and four will be escorting you home. Raven's One and Two on the way to help out Dog Lead."

"Roger Raven Lead, and thank you." The reception escort would ensure the straggling strike groups got home safe. A Griffin pulled in on either side of Thompson, within visual range.

"You've got a few nice dents in your bird." Said Raven Three.

"There's a few nice dents in here too. Inertial Dampers at 50%. I have the power and control circuits rerouted through life support. The deception pod is down. My bloody autopilot is out and I'm yawing like mad due to intermittent thruster misfire. It's a bloody mess."

"Righto, look here. Handing you off to STC on stud four. We're off to help out the rest of the blokes."

"Thanks, boyo!"

"Mother one this is Dog Four. Request permission to enter the pattern. Uploading status now." There was a slight delay as Ark Royal's Space Traffic Controller analyzed Thompson's situation.

"Dog four this is mother One. Sorry but due to your damage we can't hand you off to landing control at this time. Especially with your autopilot down. We're going to recover the rest of the strike first. Uploading your hold location, bearing and speed. You are to enter a holding pattern there until we call for you. Understand?"

"Roger, wilco" Thompson fed the data into the navigational display and followed his cues into the holding tank as it was called. The rest of the strike came in for recovery, together or in pairs. The Kra'Vak pursuers had been defeated but at the loss of two more fighters. Ark Royal began recovering them. Three fighters were in the holding tank. Himself, a lightly damaged Griffin without autopilot, and a severely damaged Greyhound.

There was a loud bang. "Warning Fire on port engine." Thompson jumped at the warning, which coincided with a bank of yellow and red caution lights on the christmas tree.

"Fuck!" Thompson hit the emergency plasma cut off, shut down the port engine and activated the halon system. The inertial damper system went red. Before he could do anything about that, weapons and defensive systems all shut down. The Greyhound was experiencing cascading systems failure.

"Dog four this is Hyena two. Look out your port side." Thompson snapped his head around and saw another Greyhound one hundred meters away. It was Lt. Becker. Callsign Scrump. "Beak, you're venting plasma out of a gash in your port engine. Have you activated your Halon system?"

"I have, it's no dice."

"Well you're going to have to dump your power core. How are your accumulators reading?" Thompson checked. They were on line and charged. Good news for once.

"My accumulators are up."

"Well that's it then you have to dump the power core now. That'll nick the fire and give you fifteen minutes off your accumulators to get on board." Thompson thought for a moment. There was no other choice. Venting burning plasma would only consume the whole engine and probably blow up the ship. The accumulators stored emergency power. By skimming it off the main power core. This ensured a steady supply in emergency situations if main power went off line. Thompson flipped up a red switch cover and punched the power core clear of the fighter. With the source of feed gone the fire in the port engine was quickly extinguished. Thompson shut down every unnecessary system he could. He left up comms, the starboard engine, and flight control.

"Mayday, mayday, Mother One, this is Dog four."

"Go ahead Dog four."

"Uploading my diagnostics to you, now. I've got ten minutes tops and then my ship is cold."

"Roger Dog four. We're recovering the last of the strike now. Will bump you to the top of the cue in the hold tank. Uploading your approach flight path. You can start on it now since I understand your dampers are gone and you'll need to take it easy. Once you get to waypoint three, hold there until I hand you off to the LSO."

"Roger, wilco." Thompson gingerly eased 211 out of the holding tank and brought it around on the approach waypath. He was careful to keep the maneuvers under 6 gees, as there was no way to tell what structural damage he had incurred in that last explosion. He swung the ship around and took up station at waypoint three. That put him five kilometers back and slightly starboard of the Ark Royal with matched speed and course. He watched as the last of the strike package recovered. It was standard procedure to recover all the undamaged craft first in case accident on landing shut down the flight deck. Thompson set the HUD to manual recovery and awaited the call from the LSO. He hoped it came soon as the accumulator power level wound down past four minutes. Only two Griffins remained aloft on Barrier CAP. They would recover minutes before warp transit.

Go to Operation Harbinger Part 4, chapter 5 of Röt Hafen

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