The very next day I showed up for duty on the dispatch pad. There were over two dozen pilots in the attendance line. Behind the line lay at least as many Mantas, fully armed for battle. They looked so large up close, compared to the small dot on a radar panel.

"Ah, I see that all of you are present," said the Commander up front. "Our first mission will be to take out a Confederate fleet in the Risa system. Many of you will be assigned to the R.S.S. Corregidor, my Cruiser. The rest will be allowed to scout the vicinity as we travel by. We will be accompanied by one additional Cruiser and one Destroyer in our flight, the R.S.S. Leyte Gulf, and the R.S.S. Midway, respectively. It is imperative that you know where and when to attack, as well as how your fellow pilots will act. Our targets will be a medical convoy of light freighters, accompanied by two Frigates and five Patrol Ships. These statistics are not completely trustworthy, however. The convoy may have made another stop and grouped, or may have lost vessels when under a pirate attack. We must prepare for the worst, though. Do not let them catch you off guard, because that is when they can and will strike. Any questions?"

One recruit near the front raised his hand, and the Commander nodded for him to proceed. "Isn't it against Rebel policy to attack medical ships, even in a time of war?" The Commander frowned upon this.

"Generally it is, but this case is an exception. 'Medical' is a very generalized term. Our operatives have informed us that this fleet is carrying certain chemicals and bacterial colonies that have the ability to be formed into biogenic weapons. The fact that these supplies also have medically helpful purposes puts us in something of a dilemma. We have reason to believe that they are not going to be used for such purposes because the fleet is not heading towards any Confederate system. There is also the fact that the Confederation rarely sends armed escorts with ships that are on a mission of mercy. It usually goes without saying that we will not attack a medical fleet, just as they will not attack one of ours. Any others?" No hands went up. "Good. We have a schedule to meet, and being a bit early never hurt anyone. We will proceed to Beeblebrox, in the Zaphod system, until engagement of the fleet. There we shall restock on fuel and supplies and practice tactical maneuvers. As far as battle arrangements go, you will be moving through three different rotations. Rotation 'A' will be docked with either my vessel or the Leyte Gulf. The other two rotations will be in free-flight, tagging along the Destroyer and scouting for enemy vessels. Don't stray too far away from the attack fleet. If you run into something, we may not be able to come to your rescue in time if you are too far off. A torpedo can only move so fast. You will rotate once every jump. No more questions?" Again, all was silent. "You will now go to your fighters and prepare for takeoff. Dismissed."

We all ran off towards the Mantas on the pads, and believe it or not, I was a bit nervous going into this. If anything happened, such as a Cruiser no one had planned for, the Mantas would be the first ones to go. And the weaponry isn't the best, either. I might have enough missiles on this thing to take out a Patrol Ship, maybe two, but the Frigates will be up to the Rebel Cruisers to kill. I guess we'll just have to provide cover. I never did like the prospect of being a human shield, but hell, it's good money. I waited in my cockpit for instructions to lift off. One by one, the fighters were being dispatched. Finally my turn came and I pressed the button to fire up the atmospheric thrusters. I raised off the ground with a swoop and ascended quickly.

A few minutes later I exited the atmosphere, the cloudy spots of air passing by to reveal the black emptiness of space. All around me I saw a swarm of fighters, and three monstrous ships looming over the scenery. I dragged my eyes away from this and down to the helm where I found that I had a message from the R.S.S. Corregidor, the Commander's cruiser. I pressed the accept button.

I saw the Commander's face sprawl across the viewscreen. "Greetings, Riprock. I have just received a message from ops that you are to start off in rotation 'A'. You will be stationed aboard my ship, along with three other fighters for this jump. You have clearance to dock, but you have to hurry. We are about to enter hyperspace. You are expected to be aboard in under five minutes."

"Agreed. I am engaging impulse engines now. Over and out." I pressed the button again to close the connection. I then aimed the nose towards the Corregidor and threw it into half thrust. The ship grew larger and larger as I neared it, until it was all I could see. I slowed to one quarter thrust and prepared for docking. I continued to slow it down until I landed on the pad with a gentle thump. It then retracted, pulling me inside the vessel. Once in, the maintenance crew assisted me out. The ship's gravity was a bit more than that on the planet, and the fighters had no need for it. It was too costly and took up too much space. Only capital ships and large cargo haulers could afford to have it. The ones that did usually set it to Earth standard, so it was always a bit off when you leave a foreign planet.

I spent the next few days on the ship and doing fleet patrol duty in my Manta. We took breaks between jumps to scout out the areas and to make sure there were no stray fighters. Finally, we arrived in Zaphod. By this time, I was back to the on-board segment of the rotation. From here we received orders to depart from the Cruiser's bays and prepare for refueling. The fuel ships came up from the planets surface in pairs. Because there was no way a capitol vessel such as a Cruiser could land on a planet, we were forced to do it this way. When the fuel ships arrived, the Cruisers were serviced first, and then the Destroyers. From there on, the fighters docked to refuel. We had to be in our best possible shape when the attack began. The comm panel beeped as a message was being received. It must be the orders to pull out.

"Greetings, pilots. We now are ready to confront the enemy. Ready your missiles and warm up those laser cannons. We are going in. Jump on my mark. Three...two...one....mark!" We all jumped simultaneously, wanting to enter at the same time. This could give us the element of surprise. We had made it far enough as it was on impulse, and the jump between Zaphod and Risa was a short one. I used the last four or five hours of the jump to make sure all was in order in engineering. I couldn't afford for my shields to short out, or even for my cannons to stall. If I had a jam, or a misfire, it could mean my life and possibly the lives of others. Again, I received a message on my comm panel.

"We are about to exit hyperspace and enter the Risa system. Sensors indicate that the fleet is already present. If we can fire a few missiles into the center and take a freighter or two, we should be able to scatter them and buy some time before the exit the system. The jobs of the fighter pilots will be to give us enough cover to get to the Frigate. You also have to prevent the freighters from jumping. You should use your first two missiles to take out a Patrol Ship, and the final one to aid you in attacking the light freighters. Don't try for the bulk freighter! You can't take it one with three missile apiece, it is far too strong for that. Leave that part up to the ones with the torpedoes. Good luck." I think we were all nervous. Many of the fighter pilots were new recruits like myself and had never flown into battle with such a fighter. Sure these Mantas provided an agile firing platform, but they were flimsy. They had trouble matching up with a Patrol Ship.

Then with a ripping sound and a shaking of the cabin walls, we fell out of hyperspace. I immediately steadied myself and set my targeting scanner to the closest Patrol Ship. The fighter shook as I fired a missile, and then again as I fired the second. The first missile toppled the Patrol Ship over to the right, and the second nearly missed it, but it managed to clip it on the nose and send it into a spin. A blue burst of flame erupted from the tail, and it went up in an orange ball of fire. I dodged the wreckage and maneuvered my way towards a freighter. I checked the radar and saw that one was turning to jump. I quickly fired my third and final missile and made a clear connection to the side. Fragments of metal and glass shot out as the back end collapsed inward. The engines were out, and the capitol ships would soon dismiss of it. I set my targeting scanner to find the next Light Freighter, only to find that they had all been destroyed or damaged beyond movement. I turned my sights back to find that the destroyer was being attacked by the last two patrol ships, and was too busy with the Frigate to take them out. I set my sights on the nearest one and placed my finger on the trigger for the primary weapon. I fired upon the Patrol Ship relentlessly with my laser cannon, not giving it a second to respond. By the time it managed to turn around, it was too late. The R.S.S. Corregidor had already destroyed it with it's proton turrets. I checked my radar one last time to find that the only survivor&emdash;a single Confederate Patrol Ship&emdash;was making it's escape. I hailed the Corregidor.

"Should we pursue it, sir?" I was anxious to get the last of them. Running from certain, but honorable, death like a coward.

"It is not our place to follow him into his own space and hunt him down. Let him deliver the message to the Confederation that we mean business. We go charging in like that and we might run into a fleet of Cruisers, or something just as serious. We need only to head back to base now, Riprock. It is good to know that you feel so strongly, though. Over and out."

I could not wait to return to Palshife and receive my first paycheck from the Rebellion. I needed to spruce this thing up a bit before I could take any more missions. I don't guess I had the ability to pick and choose my missions any more, though. Once you sign up with the Rebellion, you shouldn't plan on leaving until they are sure you have earned that paycheck. That means doing exactly what they tell you to do, and doing it well. I suppose this will not be my last mission for the Rebels. At a time like this, there will be many more conflicts, and thus many more money-making opportunities.

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