Wing Commander #07 False Color William Forstchen (top 10 books to read .txt) 📖

"If we knew who they were, and what they were after, we might have a clue as to whether they'll be coming back any time soon."

"Not Kilrathi," Tolwyn said. "Not Landreich or Confederation, either, the way I figure it. Mercenaries?"

Captain Bikina of the Durendal stirred. "Mercenaries have to have an employer," he said. "And I've never heard of mercenaries with a carrier, even a ramshackle job like that one." His contempt for their erstwhile foe was plain in his tone. The carrier had gathered in its surviving planes and fled at the approach of the two Landreich destroyers.

The other destroyer captain, Pamela Collins, cleared her throat. "I don't know who they're working for now. But I know who designed that carrier."

"Who?" Richards demanded. He seemed angry. Probably, Tolwyn thought, he was frustrated that he didn't have access to the intelligence information he was used to having. That was often the difference between a staff posting at home and a command in the field. And it had been a long time since Vance Richards had held a combat command.

"There were plans for an improvised carrier like that one in the Landreich Navy several years back," Collins told them. "I was up for a spot as T/G Officer on the prototype. But the Council did a study that proved the design wouldn't be worth putting into action against superior Cat fighting ships, so the whole project was scrapped before the first boat was completed."

"I remember that flap," Forbes of the Xenophon said. "'Twas a big brawl in Council. Auld Max almost ended up with a vote of no confidence over it all, until Danny Galbraith talked him into shutting down the program."

"What happened to the prototype, then?" Bondarevsky asked.

"I heard it was bought up by a consortium of ship-owners for use as a convoy escort."

"Zachary Banfeld's gang of pirates," Richards said, sounding disgusted. "I should have thought of him. He's got fingers in every pie from here to Sirius, and he's completely without loyalty to anything or anyone except his own profit margin. Somehow he found out there was a nice fat derelict out here just waiting to be taken over, and he tried to move in on it. But when he saw he wasn't going to get it cheap he cut his losses and bailed out."

"If that's the case he's not likely to come back," Bondarevsky said.

"I'm not so sure," Tolwyn said slowly. "He had inside information. Nothing's more certain. All the orbital elements, and details of Sindri's part in the repair work. Probably at least a hint of our sensor and shield problems, judging from how the attack was mounted. I think we're up against more than one greedy privateer. Somebody who could collect all that data on us and then bring Banfeld in to act on it."

Richards looked thoughtful. "Maybe so," he said, frowning. Tolwyn recognized his expression. It was the one Richards usually adopted when he thought Tolwyn was being overly paranoid. "But the fact is we took out five of his Broadswords. A quarter of his force in one engagement, and that was when they had the element of surprise. Banfeld's too smart to try again, whether he's working for himself or somebody else."

"Whether they try again or not, we'll be ready next time," Bondarevsky said. "I'm increasing our patrols and bringing the rest of the Black Cats on-line as quickly as possible. If Commander Graham isn't going to monopolize all the workers and the entire output of the Carnegie I figure we'll have the port flight deck up and running in three or four days, and Sparks tells me she's got most of the Kilrathi birds that we're ever going to get running just about ready to start flying."

She nodded from her seat beside the Wing Commander. 'We'll actually have an oversized flight wing by the time we're through," she said. "At least by ConFleet standards.

Karga originally carried a hundred and twenty-eight planes of all types, in sixteen of their standard eight-plane squadrons. Eight of those were fighter squadrons—two each of light, medium, heavy, and stealth craft—with two more of bombers, and six support squadrons. Support planes, command and control birds, attack shuttles, and so on."

McCullough glanced at her computer monitor. "Here's how we're looking to stack up," she said. "We have four squadrons from the Independence wing. That's eleven Hornets in the Flying Eyes, twelve Rapiers, and twelve Raptors. That makes thirty-five ConFleet-type fighters, just about half of a standard wing."

"I wish a few of them had been available today," Deniken growled.

"They were out there, Lieutenant," Bondarevsky shot back. "We lost a Rapier today, and almost had the CO of the Eyes taken out too. And one of the Broadswords we got was killed by one of the Raptors from the Crazy Eights."

"They caught us at a bad spot in our maintenance schedule," McCullough added. "That won't be happening again."

"What's the story on the Kilrathi planes?" Richards asked. "You said you can get most of them up this week."

She nodded. "Here's how it stands. We have One squadron of Darket light fighters, and a couple of working birds in reserve if you're not too fussy about how you define 'working.' Both squadrons Dralthi Fours, medium fighters. Apparently they never got into action at all during Karga's raiding mission, and they didn't suffer any losses. We're short one plane to make an eight-ship squadron of Vaktoth heavy fighters, but there's an extra Strakha that I'm fitting out as the CO's bird for that outfit. A full squadron of Strakhas, of course. They did a damned fine job out there today. And we've managed to cobble together a full squadron of Paktahn bombers, although there's a couple of them that are going to be maintenance-intensive for a while. Jorkad tells me the Paktahns got pretty badly chewed up in the fighting near Landreich." She checked her list again.

"We're also able to fly full squadrons of each of the noncombatant types, and we've even got spares on most