Operation: Pacifica, Feeding Frenzy by Fleet Commander Samhain, Doberman Empire "I'll be on the deck. Let me know when we know anything," announced Samhain as he left the comm center. ... Samhain sat and watched as first a refuelling tanker and then a few minutes later a group of fighters were launched from the _Freedom_. Goeffries wasn't taking any chances on this one, and, from what they knew so far rightly so. "Best of luck, guys..." he said softly, watching as the fighters climbed out of sight to their rendezvous with the refuelling tanker, "Godspeed..." Samhain's contemplation was interrupted for the second time of the night within another 10 minutes when the same lieutenant came charging down the metal staircase to the deck where he was sitting. He was nearly out of breath from running so hard to get there. *This doesn't bode well,* Samhain thought to himself. "SIR! I think you should come hear this sir!" panted the out of breath sailor. "I'll meet you in the comm center," replied Samhain as he faded into the darkness. ... A dark figure formed from the shadows behind the door to the comm center, coalescing into a more recognizable form as the radio crackled. "What's going on?" asked the Fleet Commander, much to the surprise of those in the room. "Sorry, sounded urgent so I got here fast. So what's going on?" "Listen for yourself, sir," commented the comm officer, "unfriendlies." Samhain listened intently to the radio traffic through the crackling static. J-Rock was barking something or other to the other pilots. "DS! On your 6!" There were sounds of machine guns firing and an explosion, then much to everyone's relief the sound of DarkSide's voice came across the radio, "Thanks J-R!" "Fuck," uttered the Fleet Commander. "If there's a carrier out there, odds are there are subs, too... Make sure Geoffries is getting more fighters in the air and has the deck clear when those guys get back... oh, and warn Jarvis and Roth that they might have some deep-running friends," he ordered on his way out the door. "Yes sir. Where are you going?" "I have work to do." ... Samhain headed out to the deck where there was a helo waiting. General Quarters had been sounded quite some time ago now and the minesweeper team had been dispatched to the helo to wait. "Sir!" barked the group head as he snapped to attention. "At ease. Is everyone here?" "Yes sir, all present and accounted for." "Good, then let's get going..." "minesweeping, sir?" "no... Sub hunting." ... Captain Jarvis scowled as he read the warning sent him from the Des Moines. Apparently those surface contacts weren't friendly in the least... but they might have brought some friends of their own along. "CONN! SONAR, CONTACT BEARING TWO-NINE-ZERO!" called out Jonesy, the sonar officer. "Jonesy, do we know where the _Stalker_ is?" "No offense, sir, but that ain't the _Stalker_; We can hardly hear her at all when she's sitting on top of our tail, let alone when she's 3k out. That's *not* one of ours, sir." "Start target track, designate target alpha-one. Load and flood all tubes. Rig for silent running." "Load and flood all tubes!" barked the XO right after the captain's orders were given. All the lights switched to reds as they prepared for combat. "Have we got a solid target track?" asked Captain Jarvis. "Aye, target track confirmed captain." "Fire tubes 1 and 4! Take us below the layer." "Fire tubes 1 and 4! Make depth 980!" barked the XO. There was a brief vibration as two torpedoes went into the water, guided by wires not much thicker than the filament of a spider web, and then the sub tipped downward in a dive. ... The helo lifted off of the deck and skimmed along the water, crew members pushing sonobuoys out the open side door as it went. Suddenly, several huge geysers of water erupted from the surface, a long strip of water seeming to froth along the surface, marking the death of a submarine. "I certainly hope that wasn't ours," remarked the pilot. "It wasn't," grinned Samhain, "it wasn't big enough." "CONTACT!" called one of the crewmen. "SHIT! FISH IN THE WATER! FISH IN THE WATER!" The moon broke through the clouds just slightly, illuminating a spot in the water where some small splashes in the waves marked a racing torpedo headed straight for the _Augustus Ceasar_. "Too late for us to do anything about that one," said Samhain matter-of-factly, "I hope they're ready for it. Let's get the bastard!" The pilot swung the helo towards the spot from which the torpedo was launched. "In position," he called. "Dropping depth charges!" said Samhain as he and the crewmen started shoving charges out the door one after another, each one set at a slightly deeper depth. About a minute later, a series of explosions started bubbling the surface of the ocean below them. *ka-PLOOSH!* *ka-PLOOSH!* *ka-PLOOSH!* The fourth charge was followed closely by a second explosion, clearly not just a depth charge. "Drop another one at the same depth!" barked Samhain as the crew scurried to get the last charge in place. They shoved it out the door and were rewarded another minute later with a larger explosion and oil bubbling to the surface. "YEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSS!" cheered one of the crew. "Don't cheer too much," Samhain chided as he scanned the fleet with binoculars. "We haven't gotten away unscathed. Look," he instructed, passing the binocs down and pointing towards the _Ceasar_, which was sitting at an odd angle in the water. "We've disposed of most of the sharks, but not before they could feed at least a little..." "Feeding Frenzy" Copyright 1996 David R. Hibbs