<i><b>Chapter 5: Unexpected.</b> </i><br/><br/>Garrick could not hardly believe it. War. Something he had not expected nor truely ever really wanted to be in. Yet here it was. Incoming bogeys on an intercept course for the fleet and him rushing down the port side launch tube loaded to bear with his 20 mm rotary mass drivers and a handful of Shrike AAM's.<br/>Even as he was pondering his current situation, the ship's comforting metal womb gave way the the cold blackness of space, and he was thrust unprepared into a hostile world. "Echo 2." came a static burset from Mira.<br/>"Form up. We are going to bag us some bogey's" her voice chripped merrily, as if unaware or apathetic to the very real danger they now faced, going up against an armed enemy for the first time.<br/>Garrick pulled in on her wing, Echo 3, Todd just opposite of him in his gunmetal grey Raptor, just like him. He waved and gave a quick jerk of his head. Behind them, forming the rear guard was that Merc that Garrick has seen earlier. The one that kept harrassing him. Garrick wasn't sure what to feel at that moment. Confident of his skills? Scared of possible death and dismemeberment? Apprehensive over having a Merc wingmate?<br/>Nervous about failing his comrades? His head was swimming with a cocktail of neurotransmitters. His gut churning and contracting noisily. His screen lit up, one, two....at least twenty bandits incoming with weapons hot. More on the way behind them. Their squadron screamed towards the incoming fighters, who came for them hard, shielding the hostile bombers and capital ships that lay beyond.<br/>"Alright kids, here's the game plan. Take out fighters and bombers first, then hit enemy warheads and turret hardpoints. And for fuck's sake dont get in the fleet's firing solution."<br/>"Here they come..." came a burst of static, Romeo 3.<br/>"Breaking to attack."-Delta 2<br/>"Tally ho, chaps! Give those sods what for!"-Zulu 1<br/><br/>Garrick gulped as he pulled the stick to the left sligthly, the ship's console chirping as the targeting reticule flipped over towards a target.<i> Click. Hummmmmmmmm.</i><br/>"I've got tone. Echo 2, Fox 1"<br/>"Echo 3, Fox 1"<br/>"Charlie 2 Fox 1!"<br/><br/>The void suddenly filled with stramers of smoke and fire as missiles crossed and arched, forwards and back.<i>WERK WERK WERK. </i>Incoming missle! Dodge, countermeasure, punch the burners.<i> Bleep!</i>Scored a hit! Bandit Down! First live fire kill.<br/>Every doubt in his mind was gone now, as his mind flowed fluidly across the panels and arches of his ships interior, tracking targets, calculating angles and working the instruments like an ace pilot. His mind lost in the procedure of dodge, track maneuver and fire.<br/>"Guns guns guns!"<br/>"Watch it, you've got one on your six."<br/>"Juilet 4, Fox 3."<br/>"Oh yeah, bandit down...chalk up another one."<br/>"-taking too much fire! Controls unresponsive! I'm going down, I'm going down!!"<br/><br/>"This is the Reginald. All forward batteries. Open fire."<br/>Hot streams of molten metal seared past Garrick, barely missing his starboard wing as the fleet's lead frigates opened up on the enemy destroyers.<br/>Garrick pulled a hard 90 degree turn, pressing the burners in full to clear the firing land as hot white iradescent beams of fury crossed behind him with the destroyer's heated rebuttal.<br/><br/>Across his field of vision, a fighter darted, like a wounded rabbit, its aft badly torn by a flak burst as it made for the enemy carrier.<br/>"Oh no you don't"  Garrick murmured, pulling in, drawing a bead on the target with his computer.<i>Blek Blek Hummmmmmmmmm.</i><br/>"Gotca...Echo 2, Fox 3..."<br/><br/><br/><br/>To say that this was unusual, was an understatement. Harkin had been on the bridge when the fighting began. He wasn't really allowed to move very fare from his post, but what he had picked up was most troubling indeed.<br/>Comm traffic had revealed to him that this enemy, that they had found themselves facing was indeed of human origin, the ships that they were flying were old rag-tag Imperial and Alliance models that pre-dated the Great War. Even some from the days before the Empire's formation. Some of them were just pitiful;century-old wrecks refitted and armed with whatever armaments they could find, hodgepodged together to form an fleet.<br/>But what they lacked in quality, they had made up for in quanitity. There were litterally thousands of ships out there in this would be invasion fleet, ranging from Ancient battle-ships to modern pleasure-boats fitted for war. This was a rebellion, a civil war. And it was tearing the Novan forces to pieces.<br/>All across the planet, reports of insurgents armed with whatever weapons they could find, storming the capital city and outlaying military installations, local populaces joining the uprising and traitors within. In the sky, the Novan ships were getting pounded, on the retreat, they had at last come to their final stand, at the Galatea Shipyard on the dark side of Terra Nova.<br/>And now...here they were. The very emboidment of authority, come knocking at the Novan's door.<br/><br/>"Should we treat the Novans as a hostile ?" Graves asked, his arms crossed defensively.<br/>"No, there may yet be loyalists in the fleet on the dark side of the planet, and on the surface itself. Standard rules of engagement. Hold fire until fired upon."<br/>Graves frowned at Hawkins. "Sir, we just stumbled into an all out brawl, if we go in with the gloves on..." but Hawkins silenced him.<br/>"I know the risks. Prepare the Marines, Captain. We're going to get some answers."<br/><br/>"Aye aye, sir."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>