Chapter 1

The Archangel, flagship of the Broderian expeditionary flotilla, a Dreadnought class heavy cruiser, in position at the center of the formation, began sending coded transmissions to one of the forward frigates, the McAfee. The radio and sensor operators turned their units to maximum and began sweeping the approaching asteroid and debris field. The remainder of the fleet slowed to half and spread out in a skirmish line, the other frigates moving into blocking positions, protecting the cruisers.

"Sir. Long range scans shows a path has been cleared through the field."

The senior detection officer announced. The captain and the admiral both turned from their conversation and walked over to the sensor station.

"See, sir, right here. Along this axis here, it appears to be cleared."

The non-com at the scope said as he traced his finger along the route.

The sensor officer nodded and turned to the captain.

"Sir. Permission to launch sensor drones along that course." The admiral and the captain both looked at the screen and nodded. The captain looked at his superior.

"Well, Ted. Its your call." He said quietly. The admiral puffed on his cigar thoughtfully before responding. Finally, he spoke.

"John, its your ship, you say the word. I'm just along for the ride." The captain nodded and grinned before turning to the officer of the deck. He motioned with his finger. The OOD nodded and reached to an overhead console and flipped the safety covers on the launch keys. After he had flipped all the covers and turned all the keys to the yellow stops.

"Ready to launch sir."

The captain looked back at the sensor screen, nodded his affirmation. "Launch drones Mr. Powell."

The OOD reached down onto the workstation before him and turned the key. Outside, on the hull, tiny sensor drones, whose only purpose was to chart, record and send back all data, shot away from the cruiser.

"Mr. Powell, send the word to all ships. All stop, repeat, all stop." The captain said as he watched the sensor scope in front of him. "Aye aye, sir." Powell said as he tapped the commo officer on the shoulder who immediately began sending the burst transmission.

The tiny drones shot through the asteroids, some attaching themselves to the rocks and sending back data while others went to stationary positions and began sweeping the small corridor. The forward frigates went to all stop and began receiving and decoding the drone data before sending it back to the flagship.

Inside Broder Prime Operations Control, the same data was received and cataloged by the duty officers. A large bull of a man with short cut hair graying at the temples, walked down the aisle between operators. Although a general officer in the Broderian Forces, he was dressed in his duty uniform, tan pants bloused into high black boots, a wide leather belt with a matching short sleeve tan shirt and an abbreviated set of decorations on his left breast. Above his right pocket, the nametape read BECKETT. The ops center lighting was subdued at all times so that the large screen display, showing the locations and conditions of all the fleet vessels could be easily identified. Beckett stopped and picked up the duty log, initialed the proper place and moved on to check with his team this evening. Per Broderian Forces regulations, a general officer had to be present whenever the fleet was moving into a potential combat situation. A quick reaction force of no less than ten fast attack destroyers and other combat support craft were on standby, again per regulations, a react force was to be approximately two times larger than any expeditionary operation. The general officer on duty could ultimately mobilize as large a force as he deemed necessary to counter any threat before getting senate approval. The officer had to notify the senate within 48hours if a planet wide alert was called. In this case, all general officers were called to the ops center and all ships were put on system wide alert. In effect, the Broder system could be locked down and access denied to any non-Broderian ship. Today though, Beckett's only concern was to ensure the safety of the expeditionary fleet and of course, one admiral.

"Captain, what do you have?" Beckett asked as he walked up to the young officer. The captain appeared nervous as he looked at the large wall display.

"General, it looks like we found where and how the raiders have been entering our system."

He fidgeted with his hand held controller before he was able to zoom into the correct section of the map. The map grid enlarged and highlighted until it filled half the screen.

"You can see the sensor drones deployed along the access corridor and fully charted the area."

He punched a few more buttons until the far end of the field was visible.

"Here, sir. There's the end of the field. The drones have divided the other system into grids and charted possible sectors of habitation. From the information we're still downloading, there is a large planetary system consisting of seven planets so far."

Biehn manipulated the controller again, but hit the wrong button causing the image to fade. He nervously punched buttons while the general grinned.

"Easy son." He said as he took the controller from the officer.

"Biehn is it?" He put his hand on the other officer's shoulder, fatherly like.

"Captain Beihn, is this your first fleet deployment?"

The other officer nodded nervously before answering. "Yes sir General Beckett." The younger man was now sweating profusely.

"Captain, relax. Take some deep breaths. Think of this as a training exercise. You'll do fine." He said as he patted the younger man on the shoulder and handing back the small controller before moving off.

The captain took back his controller, closed his eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath then reset the correct sequence to return the display to normal. He walked back to his desk, sat and relaxed as he took a sip of water to calm down. He wasn't nervous to be here, it was the excitement that came with the fact there might actually be contact.

Back on the Archangel, Admiral Greerson was conferring with Captain Winslow.

"John, what's the latest on the drones?" Greerson asked. The captain shuffled some reports before replying.

"Ted. You and I go way back. All the way to the academy." He said before looking up. "I don't like it. It's too easy. These reports are from last weeks sensor sweep. They don't report anything like this." He handed the reports to the admiral. Greerson casually fingered through them before putting them aside.

"I agree. I've seen these reports as well." He puffed on his cigar before continuing, "We've been dumping waste rock and old ship hulls in this field for decades. Its no wonder that the raiders have been using it to hide and most likely refit some of their ships." He paused to puff some more on his cigar. "There's so much junk and debris its been blocking our scans." He looked over at the other man. " What do you have in mind?" he asked as he blew smoke rings at the overhead ventilator.

"I recommend that we move a dropship to standby, and make ready a full complement of Raptors as well as a flight of Talons for support." He sat back to watch the admiral's reactions. A wide grin slowly crossed his face.

"I agree. One can't be too careful. Move a second flight of Talons to standby and pass the word to the Raptor pilots that they should be ready to launch." The admiral added. Winslow smiled, stood and moved to the wall intercom.

"Mr. Powell, execute Alpha One. Repeat Alpha One." He said before shutting it off and turning back to Greerson. "One can't be too careful." He smiled as he sat back down.

Greerson smiled, "You old son of a bitch. You already had that planned but just wanted to run it by me." He sat back in his chair, "Damn. I'd almost forgotten how you operate." He chuckled softly as he sat back further in the thickly cushioned chair.

In the launch bay of the cruiser, a heavily armed platoon moved into positions before boarding the dropship. Led by a lieutenant, with senior non-coms in charge of the squads, they boarded the heavily armored dropship and took positions. The large clamshell loading doors sealed shut behind the troopers as they took their seats. The dull black, modular armor they all wore, making no noise as they secured their primary weapons and prepared for launch. Each trooper's armor was identical, save for the medical personnel, which had a small red cross on the left bicep. Each trooper was outfitted with a tailored set of armor that required him or her to submit to a laser measuring system.

Once they were sized, they were required to perform basic functions and positions so that the computer could record the movements and adjust the armor accordingly. This was the top of the line Broderian modular armor, able to withstand intense cold, heat, laser fire, point blank plasma discharge and allow the trooper to survive in any environment for up to thirty days as long the suit still maintained integrity. The matching helmet, with polarization visor that could go from opaque to crystal clear, had a built in heads up display, communication gear, and drinking tube, locked onto the neck of the suit and allowed for operation underwater, in a vacuum, or in a toxic atmosphere. Integrated into the suit were various sensors that monitored vital signs, adrenaline level, suit integrity, ammunition type, target density, and various other sensors that monitored a myriad of subsystems such as the amount of ammunition left, perspiration level, and signal strength from command. Each suit also had a built-in sidearm holster on the thigh module.

A positioning system was also built in so that officers could direct their movements in the field and medical personnel could locate them in case of injury or, worse case scenario, graves registration could recover the soldier. The soldier's personal weapon was a Webley MA8000 PDW; The Webley Personal Defense Weapon fired from a large fifty round magazine, a caseless cartridge for conflict in an atmosphere or a phased plasma needle beam for non-atmospheric operations. The needle beam could be used in an atmosphere but only as a last resort due to the catastrophic damage it could inflict. The heavy weapons team carried rapid fire Webley R1200 rail guns, capable of firing a projectile that could penetrate ship hulls, armored vehicles and fortified positions. The medical team carried a smaller version of the MA8000 as most of their gear consisted of collapsible 'coffins', which an injured soldier was put into and immediately placed in stasis while microscopic nano bots were injected to stabilize and speed along recovery. The dropship, a troop carrier, could also support ground operations with its devastating array of weaponry, guided and unguided missiles, phased array plasma disruptors, multi-barrel rail guns and smart bombs.

Elsewhere in the huge cruiser, the hanger bay was a flurry of activity. Raptor and Talon pilots ran last minute checks and pre flight procedures as armaments were checked and secured. The Raptor, a small 'snub nose' one- man fighter, was extremely fast and nimble in and out of atmosphere. Sporting a sleek look and needle thin nose, it could slip virtually undetected through sensor screens and lay waste to any capital ship. The Talon, a two-man interceptor/atmospheric, all weather, fighter/bomber, was the workhorse of the Broderian Aviation Forces. This larger craft had retractable wings that could extend when in an atmosphere to provide lift or stay retracted while in space. Heavily armed with stand off weaponry and fire and forget missiles, the Talon was the best multi-mission combat support craft that the Broder ever produced.

"Admiral on the bridge." The OOD announced as Winslow and Greerson entered the Combat Information Center.

"Sir, launch bay reports aircraft ready." The OOD said as he approached Winslow. Greerson grinned and looked back at the large sensor display on the wall of the CIC.

"Very well Mr. Powell. You may launch when ready." Winslow replied. Powell turned and spoke into his lightweight headset. "Launch, launch, launch." He said. Below decks, the Raptors shot out of their launch tubes and formed a phalanx around the cruisers, as the Talons broke into two separate groups, one group moving ahead and forming around the two most forward frigates.

"Sir, confirmation on launch. All aircraft in the green." Powell reported before turning back and monitoring the displays. Winslow looked at Greerson, who had watched everything with a twinkle in his eye and grin on his face. He made a small go ahead gesture to Winslow who grinned back before looking away.

"Mr. Powell, inform the McAfee that they are to move ahead on one quarter speed, yellow alert and full sensor sweep. Inform all pilots that weapons are tight." Powell nodded as he relayed the instructions.

The McAfee and her sister ship, Paladin moved ahead with their protective screening force of Talons. Slowly the two smaller vessels moved through the field, guided by the input of the drones until Paladin emerged first due to the staggered formation they had undertaken. McAfee took station off the portside of Paladin and launched another spread of sensor drones. Once clear of the field, the Talons moved to a wider dispersal and locked onto the drones input channel. The electronics officer, sitting behind the pilot, used his sensors to sweep the area around the ships and provide some early warning. Talon 81, at the furthest point of the deployment, reported a sensor hit to the starboard quarter. The EO in the rear seat locked down the signal and relayed it back to the frigates. The drones deployed to that area, soon had the source of the signal located and plotted.