Ch 12: Reconnaissance

Several days later, Ari hurried along the corridor to Haeter's office. I can do this, I can do this. She hesitated only briefly at the door, then, drawing a deep breath, purposefully strode in.

"Thank you, girl, I'm glad you're willing to help out here." Haeter softly greeted her.

Swallowing back her own rising ill-ease, she focused her eyes on her teammate. "I'm glad you called me sir. I mean, out of all of us, I'm the one who really understands what he's dealing with here." Oh god, Longshot, you look nearly as bad as when you lost Kiala. Lightly she laid her hand on the doctor's coat sleeve.

"That's what I was counting on, child. Fleet standard treatment in these cases isn't a pleasant process and a friendly face, or shoulder can make a world of difference." Grimly he smiled toward her lanky squad mate. The tall, lean young man sat slumped heavily in a chair at the other side of the room, his face in his hands. His heavy, ragged breathing could clearly be heard across the room. "Go on over to him."

Timidly at first, Ari approached Longshot. Her chest tightened when looked up at her, anguished. "Oh, Longshot!" She cried affectionately, rushing to his side. Without further thought, she threw her arms around him and pulled him into her shoulder. "I understand, I understand." she whispered.

The fragile composure he had built shattered into tiny fragments at her tender words. Wrapping his long arms around her torso, he began to sob gut-wrenching, raw cries into her ready shoulder. For several minutes she just held him through the storm, supporting him as the agony tore through him. Finally, the lean pilot lifted his head and gratefully took the washcloth she offered him. Roughly he rubbed at his face.

"Thanks, Ari, you don't know…"

"Yes I do. Out of our entire team, I do get it." She offered him a sad smile.

"Yeah, I guess you do. Still, I'm glad it was you here. You won't…"

"Rat you out to the rest of the team?" A mischievous grin lifted the corners of her lips.

"Yeah, that." Longshot looked at the floor sheepishly.

"Look, your secret is safe with me, as long as you keep mine when it’s your turn to come to my rescue here. It's only a matter of time…"

"No, I can't imagine…"

"Imagine what? They already tell us when to get up, when to sleep, what to eat and what to wear! It was only a matter of time before Fleet would decide it could tell us what to be afraid of. And somehow I don't think medics are going to be on the list anymore than needlesticks are!"

Longshot's vivid green eyes grew wide as her contagious grin spread across his own face. Softly he began to chuckle, encouraged by her giggles. Soon both were laughing hard enough that tears rolled down their cheeks.

I knew she'd be able to pull him back out. Haeter indulged in a smile and laughed along with the two young people.

"God I needed that! Thanks, Little bit." He sighed heavily. "I mean it, you're a real friend. You are Roque were always there for me after Kiala's accident, now this. I really owe you…"

"Hey, what's the rule about that? We don't keep score as long as everyone gets back alive?" She admonished only half joking.

"I know, but still…" A loud grumble in his stomach cut him off.

"Come on, let's get you some lunch."

Longshot shook his head hard, his mouth fixing in a hard line."No, I don't think I can face the mess hall right now…"

"You don't think I know that?" The diminutive pilot scolded lightly. "I called in a favor with Chef. He's made your favorite soup, that really thick one you favor. It should be waiting in the squad room with the rest of the guys. They've got a taste for that soup too and when I told them Chef was sending it up they warned me to get enough for everyone!"

"You're a gem, Ari. I can't think of anything that sounds better right now." I really would like their company right now, as long as Ace isn't being an ass.

"Then get a move on, you brute, before they get the idea you don't want your share!" Laughing, she pulled at his arm, encouraging him to stand. "I can take him home, can't I, sir?" She asked as an afterthought.

Smiling, the physician nodded encouragingly. He laid his hand on Longshot's arm. "You did well, son. You'll get through this soon."

Swallowing hard, Longshot gazed into the doctor's eyes. After a moment, he nodded. "Thanks sir. It really is good to hear that from you."

Squeezing the pilot's arm, Haeter dismissed them from his office, following them with his eyes as they made their way down the corridor. Damn funny sight that little thing holding him up. Poor kid. Why they won't let me handle this in a civilized fashion I don't understand. I've got to keep her case under their radar though; I don't want to chance her to this kind of brutal, backward methodology.

The next day saw the entire team finally recovered from intake exams and back up on its feet, ready for duty. Pogo still limped slightly, so the Triplets rematch had to be postponed. Ironically, Ari felt disappointed. After the last match, she was revising her opinions of the game.

"Now how is it, Pogo that you go and postpone the game just as I start getting the hang of it?" She laughed over her shoulder as they walked down the corridor to Mavery's office. "Worried about getting some competition as our star player?"

The entire squad fell out laughing.

"From who?" Pogo bantered back? "Last time I checked we only had five and a half players and I'm one and a half of them!" He grinned and winked at her.

"I don't know, after the last game, I would have thought that I'd of made it up to half a player!" She ducked as Pogo reached out to clout her on the back of the head. She successfully evaded his hand and it landed squarely in the middle of Acer's back.

Acer turned and stared piercingly at Pogo, raising his eyebrow. 'It's a good thing you're limping already; otherwise you'd be when I was done with you!" It's about time you got taken down.

"Sparring ring next week?" Pogo challenged.

"You little guys just like taking a beating, don't you? As soon as the doc approves, you're on." retorted Acer trying to sound good-natured, but the irritation in his voice was clear. I'm gonna wipe the ground with you.

Ari winced hearing Acer's tone. You're not going to lay off him until he beats the crap out of you, are you? After all the time he's spent teaching me, I know how good he is. All the rest of us do, too. That damn ego of yours is going to get you killed one of these days.

"Sober up guys," Roque called over his shoulder. They had arrived at Mavery's office and he didn't want their hijinks to bring down Discipline on any of them.

"Yes sir!" Freeman and Pogo came to attention and saluted, but could not wipe the grins from their faces. Roque shot them a sour look.

"It's on your back, guys, not mine." He warned as he pressed the door whistle.

The door slid open and the squad filed into Mavery's quarters in appropriate military fashion. Roque breathed a sigh of relief.

"At ease,” Mavery murmured, not looking up from his desk. "Just a moment, please."

The Alpha squad stood patiently, wondering what Mavery had for them. What did he call us in for? Roque stared at the heavy belt left lying out on his desk wondering uneasily. He can't possibly be calling us out for the intake exams. The trouble we had with them, it wasn't a choice. He wouldn't...

Glancing back at Ari, he saw she had lost the color from her face and her expression became blank. I'm not going to let him have another go at her over that.

"All right there, that's done." Mavery looked up at them, “Glad to see you're on time, gentlemen. The rest of your compatriots do not seem to understand the timeliness is a matter of Discipline. I am glad to see you do." His words were both a compliment and a warning for the future.

"Yes sir!" They responded as one, not missing his meaning and glad for Roque's forceful insistence that they watch the clock carefully. Mavery smiled inwardly as he saw then all flex their shoulders at his remarks. At least they can take a hint. "Now then, Alpha, I've selected you specifically for this assignment. After what I saw in that flight test, I believe you are particularly well suited for what we need here." Several pairs of eyes grew wide at this pronouncement.

"Ah, yes sir, thank you sir." Roque stammered. That was unexpected!

Mavery pursed his lips, noting for the first time Ari's pallor and the underlying tension among the team.. Damn, I should have put the bloody belt away. That's all they can see. Shit, that's all they expect from me. Haeter was right. I don't like where this has gone. He sighed heavily. "We've had some reports of a new wave of Raiders in an area where they haven't been seen before. We need some reconnaissance done. We need it done well and fast and without being traced. This is no joyride folks. We can't give you much support and no communications either. I need you to follow protocol exactly and to do this by the book. We've got to get a handle on what is going on out there, yesterday."

"Yes sir!"

"Get over to the briefing table so we can go over the details." Mavery left his desk and headed for the large table in the center of the room with the squad following close behind.

Nimble fingers brought up a large view screen with a split display, half showing an array of maps, half filled with tables detailing the statistics of Raider activity over the last season. "I'll give you all a moment to study this, I'll be back presently." Mavery backed away from the table to retrieve some refreshment, leaving Alpha to their own devices. I want to see what they do with this. I'm sure there's something we're missing in that data.

For long moments, no one spoke, their eyes scouring the data.

"All right guys," Roque finally broke their reverie. "Where do we start?"

"Well, it's pretty obvious that there's been an increase in Raider activity over the last three fortnights." Acer growled. Why are we wasting time talking, when we need to be getting some real work done? I'd bet this cycle's pay that Mavery's watching us and ready to call us out for wasting time.

"Right, we'll start with the obvious." Roque sighed. At least he's true to form. "Let me run the numbers…crap!" A collective gasp when through the squad as they saw the graphs with trend lines clearly marked. "Ok, from the looks of it, this isn't some random oddity, there's something very deliberate going on here."

"What happens when you cross that data with the shipping and transport schedules, or did you already do that?" Ari wondered aloud. I've got a nagging feeling that there's something there that we're missing.

"Let's try it." The squad leader quickly tapped at the input pad. A new display flashed up, the clear trend lines now gone.

The dark pilot glared at his former wingman. "See that was a waste of time!" Acer muttered under his breath.

"Thanks, Ace, always such a ray of sunshine." Ari retorted softly, rolling her eyes.

"Wait!" Freeman exclaimed, rising to reach the input pad himself. "You need to run those two separately; it looks like they are canceling each other out!" Moments later, two separate graphs appeared, each with clear and distinct trends appearing.

Longshot reached over to clap his friend's shoulder. "Good call. You too Ari. Shit, I don’t like the look of that though. When you add in the damage done in each of those…" He too reached for his turn at the inputs, "See the spikes here and here? If you ask me, I'd say this is the beginning of something we don't want to be caught in the middle of."

"Hey." Pogo called from the other side of the table, "Haven't we seen charts that looked just like that somewhere else? I can't remember where I've seen it, but I know I have." I hope they don't make an idiot out of me here. I always feel so stupid when those three get on one of their rolls.

"He's right, "Ari murmured, chewing her lip and tapping furiously at her module.”He's right; I know we've seen that before…" All eyes turned on her for a long moment. "That's it! Pogo's right, but you're not going to like it. I'm sending it to your analysis, Roque."

"Well, don't keep us in suspense, if I'm right I'd like to know about it!" Pogo demanded with a grim laugh in his voice.

Looking up at her team with a serious expression, Ari shook her head. "Those are the same raiding patterns that turned up just over a turn ago, when the Raider's decimated Fleet."

A cold chill ran down Mavery's spine. Why did no one else see this? How could we have missed that? And why in the hell are they not assigned to tactical at least part time? Swiftly Mavery strode back into the midst of the squad. "Here,” He handed out bottles of water that he'd just retrieved. "It seems that we've got some findings to review. Well done, Alpha."

A palpable tension filled the air on the flight deck. No one spoke of it, but they all remembered that the disastrous campaign that nearly destroyed the Third Fleet began this way, with a simple reconnaissance flight. This fact was not lost on the Alpha squad. All traces of levity had left them as they settled into their ships, strapping in and triple checking their gear.

"Squad ready?" Roque's came through their coms. I hate the sound of my voice on these things! I sound like Lady Sennet with a head cold! All right, enough of that. Focus man, focus! We've got too damn much at stake here to make any dumb moves. And we've got to show Mavery we can pull this off or we're...

"A2 ready." He couldn't miss the tension in Ari's voice. It too clearly echoed his own.

"A3, sir!" Acer called in with the rest of the squad rapidly following.

"Launch when ready” The flight coordinator called out. "Good luck gentlemen! Fly well!"

"A1 launching." Roque led the squad off the carrier.

Their flight plan laid out by Col. Mavery was a simple one, get in, get the information and get out. They needed to survey activity in several major shipping lanes as well as two military corridors for traces of Raider activity. Fortunately, Raider ships left very clear traces for days after they passed. New coatings on the skins of Alpha's ships would render them much more difficult for the Raiders to detect, but radio silence would be necessary for stealth.

Roque watched as the rest of the small ships catapulted from the carrier. Even with the overview screen, I hate being out of contact with the team. Pogo's idea of those visual codes was brilliant! Who'd a thought that the way he reads his opponents in the sparring ring could be turned into this! I doubt he gives himself enough credit for what he does around here. "I want to use the tertiary recon patterns, team." He announced. "No one has seen those yet, so they'll give us an advantage."

"Did those get approved?" Acer asked. "I remember you presented them to Kellen before we lost him, but I didn't remember them getting registered."

"I got verbal approval on record, A3. He said he'd get them registered asap." Roque replied.

"Tert's it is, sir." Ari confirmed firmly.

"That's our last comm for now; no more chatter till we rendezvous here in two bells. Remember the codes in case you have to get word back sooner. Fly it tight out there. I want you back." Roque switched off the voice from his com unit. The ship was eerily quiet knowing he could not talk to his team. The sound of his own beating heart grew loud in his ears. He tried to focus on the data gathering, setting his distance sensors as he crossed his area in precise patterns.

At least in a fire fight he felt like he could do something to help out, even protect his team. He glanced at his overview screen. So far, so good. They’re flying clear out there. So far anyway.. It wasn't just a matter of evading detection here, but also not leaving a trail to be followed back to the Fleet. That was the first mistake of the ill fated campaign of last year.

A strange waver focused his attention on his overview screen. Longshot had visual confirmation of a raider and was pulling out of his pattern. Shit! At least we've got a good chance that he wasn't seen. Between the sensor coating and the fact he always sees those things so quick means he probably got out of there in plenty of time. But damn they're breathing down our necks!

Another oddity caught his eye. Ari was signaling findings herself. Old traces, but a lot of them! This is bad, really bad. Now Freeman's saying the same thing. That fresh trace from Longshot probably means there's a full squad headed down his quadrant. Glad he's out of there.

The clock didn't count down nearly fast enough for his taste and yet it seemed to zip by quickly in their intensely demanding flight. Each breathed a sigh of relief when they all reconvened at the designated point. Roque rolled his ship to signal radio silence. The raiders were all but upon then and he did not want to risk their mission with a stray remark. No, as much as he hated the silence, they would wait until they were sure they were in safe space.

His decision was well made as they found fresh traces of the raider's trails crossing their original path. Was that dumb luck or could they have known to expect us there? If we'd been flying standard patterns, we'd have been flying right into their sights! Roque chewed his lip at the uneasy thought.

Mavery paced the floor until the team returned from their flight. So much is riding on this! We can be reliving that disaster!

He was ready on the flight deck when the squad landed, noting their precision landings. They do make that look pretty. I don't think they're just showing off for their fans. As soon as Roque's ship was locked down Mavery ran to its side to get the first hand report.

Roque clambered out of his ship with nimbleness surprising for a man of his size. His face was grim as he turned to the colonel. "It's bad sir, worse than we thought." He reported as the rest of the team began to gather around. "They are all over the shipping lanes and they are even closer than we thought. Longshot got a visual confirmation on the raiders, long distance, but confirmation none the less. So there's no mistaking that it's them."

Mavery nodded his mind racing at the new turn of events. "I'll get the records complied, get cleaned up and meet me for a full debrief, fifteen minutes." The colonel turned on his heel and left.

None of them had much to say, the banter of earlier in the day forgotten in the wave of serious news. Silently they stowed their gear, showered, and prepared for Mavery's debrief.

In the briefing room they were pleased to find that Mavery had ordered up some rich broth for them to sip as they went over the Records. They were hungry, but in no mood for food. Mavery stalked in and they rose to attention. He waved them off, sitting down himself. With a brusque movement, he flipped on the records screen and began to go over the data. The long silence felt heavy as they all tried to make sense out of the avalanche of data he unleashed.

"What the hell is that?" Mavery suddenly stopped the records.

"What sir?" Roque replied, confused.

"What recon pattern is that? I told you by the book this time." None could mistake Mavery's clear anger.

"Those are the tertiary patterns sir,” Ari ventured carefully.

"There are no tertiary patterns, pilot. Check the protocols yourself." He glared at her.

"Colonel Kellen approved them, sir." Roque began to explain. "The fact we were flying those is the only reason we didn't end up in the middle of their flight patterns!"

"Not now, Pilot. We'll handle this later." The severe expression on his face made it clear what he meant by that. "I need to get through the data first. But we have not finished this point, understood?"

Shit! He's going to take us apart over this!

A full bell cycle passed before they finished going over the data with the colonel. By then, it was all they could do to fall exhausted into bed. They had no energy left to process anything. And there was nothing they could do about any of it anyway. Roque did stop to check through and found that Kellen never did register the tertiary plans as he said he would do. Mavery was quite correct.