Captain Robert Eglin, sat arms resting on his kneecaps, body hunched forward ever so slightly, eyes gazing at the view screen in front of him as stars streaked past.  “We’re approaching the Atracos system now, Sir.” Came the apprehensive voice of the young officer sat at the helm seat.  Eglin was far from happy with any member of his bridge crew showing the merest hint of fear; fear made people second guess themselves, fear made them slow to react; fear got people killed.  This would be the first chance of combat for many of those currently aboard the Excelsior-class USS Valparaiso, and a while since he himself had got his hands dirty.  So this lot had better book their ideas up, and sharpish.

“Drop us out of warp Mr Taylor.” Eglin ordered in his usual authoritative tone. “Shields up, red alert. Look lively gentlemen.”

The streaks turned into stationary points of light, as the vessel came out of warp along with the rest of the small flotilla he’d been put in charge of;  six vessels, just six of them to retake a planet.  What mad man had thought anyone could pull this little stunt off?  Oh yes, that was right, he’d volunteered; and in doing so committed all those under his command to follow him into battle.  Half of the ships had been brought out of retirement especially for this mission; an Akula, Argonaut and Miranda; all in part manned by individuals from his ship.  It meant that the Valparaiso was understaffed in some areas and his XO was now in charge of one of those ships.  The Commander may have been 44, but this would be her first time actually in charge.  Yes she’d sat in the Captain’s chair many times, but Eglin liked to keep on top of things and make sure the XO did everything his way.  Being away from his guiding hand might result in her having ideas, and good First Officers that didn’t question their superiors’ judgement seemed rather thin on the ground.  No, the faster this mission was resolved and he could his XO back where she belonged, the better.

            **********

The USS San Jacinto was an Argonaut-class; the more combat-oriented version of the Intrepid-class.  It had entered service in 2385, three years after the prototype and some ten years after the Dominion War, for which it had been designed; had ended.  The ship had been in service up until the beginning of the year, so was in a fairly good state and had required very little to get her up and running.  This mission would be the first in which she’d carry a squadron of a dozen Valkyrie-class fighters.  A role, as a carrier she had always been intended to undertake.

Stood next to the captain’s chair, one hand resting on the arm close to the small instrument panel, Commander Mary Anacostia-Bolling; though the majority of those working with her only referred to her by the rank she held on account of the long winded double barrelled surname.  Many had asked why she hadn’t dropped the second part; eleven months in a loveless marriage, to them didn’t seem justification for keeping the man’s name throughout the rest of her adult life.  But she had loved him, that had been the whole point; ok he had faults and found it hard to reciprocate those feeling, but didn’t a lot of man? 

The San Jacinto dropped out of warp just a few seconds after the Valparaiso and off the larger vessels port side. As it did so the Commander signalled to her Flight Control Officer to order the fighter squadron to prepare for launch. 

            **********

In the forward section of the San Jacinto’s vast hanger bay dozens of engineer and technicians darted between the twelve sleek Valkyrie Mark II fighters; as the pilots prepared to climb aboard their respective craft.

The Sun Downer Squadron had been formed during the second half of the Dominion war with the older Peregrine-class fighters; though the name itself; often shown as one word, dated back to the then United States Navy’s involvement in the Second World War and the conflict with Japan.  More than one squadron had carried the name during the 20th Century; most had seen combat in one form or another.  Each of fighters bore a red half circle, with red lines fanning out from its curved edge, like a sun on the horizon; covering the lower half of the wings: reminiscing of the squadron emblem of old.  The Valkyrie was far removed from the Wildcat and Hellcat fighters of its ancestors; but its function was basically the same, engage the enemy and protect the fleet. 

Technicians in coveralls; checked that each pilot was securely strapped in, before climbing down the short ladder and wheeling it away from the craft.  At the controls of Echo Lima 6, Lieutenant Max Beaufort went through his final checks.  The technician gave him a reassuring tap on the shoulder, which the Lieutenant replied with a thumb’s up.  Once the Caitian was clear, Max closed and sealed the cockpit.

“This is Echo Lima One, final com-check.”  The Squadron Leaders announced.  “Report your call signs and status.”

Each of the pilots spoke in turn, like they’d all done a hundred times before, but this time it mattered more than most.  Half way through, it was Beaufort’s turn.  “Echo Lima Six, reading you five by five.  All systems green across the board.  Ready to launch on the third light.”

The third light was in reference to the set of light positioned above the hanger door.  Currently two light showed amber, a signal for all fighters to be ready.  When they turned green for the first time, the leading two Valkyrie would take-off; and the light then briefly change back to amber until they’d made it clean.  So with that in mind Max’s fighter was the third one due to launch from the starboard side.  If a light changed to red; that would signal a problem and an aborted take-off.  No one wanted that to happen, not with the danger that lay ahead.

Time seemed to slow, as Max Beaufort sat in the cockpit of his sleek fighter; finally after what seemed like ages, the light went green and the first two of the Valkyrie Mark II’s raced away.  Moments later the second pair followed them out, and then it was his turn.  The rest of the squadron hot on their heels. 

            **********

Captain Eglin watched as the ships under his command moved into their pre-arranged attack formation; the fighters of the Sun Downer Squadron, now grouped into three ‘flights’ of four craft, took up their positions.  Finally four Runabouts; slotted themselves into the formation.  This was it.

“This is Captain Eglin to all ships.” He addressed everyone, his voice broadcasted to every bridge, engineering room, corridor and cockpit.   “Those people down there need our help.  So don’t let them down, and above all don’t let me down.  All ships attack!”

With those last words echoing in everyone’s mind, every Federation vessel raced forward as one. The assault on Atracos III was underway.