Read Forge of War (Jack of Harts) for Free Online

agree?”
    Jack nodded, as comfortable in her presence as he’d been with anybody in his life.
    “Yes.  I think that will work,” she said, her head cocked to the side in thought.  She really did have all of the mannerisms of humanity down perfectly.  Then her hologram seemed to snap into solidity.  She looked real, like flesh and blood; like he could touch her skin and it would be warm, like she could touch him and he would feel it.  She smiled at him again.
    “Jack, you can call me Betty.”

Hello, my name is Jack.  All my life I wanted to loaf around home on my boat wearing shorts and sandals with a guitar strapped over my shoulder impressing all the girls with my mad musical skills.  But I also thought flying would be fun.  Hollywood kept showing us “real men” in Hellcats vanquishing the bad guys, so when I realized I might just be a pilot, I wanted to fly Hellcats.  Then some politician with a hankering for pork got a reinstated reserve squadron assigned with some new Avengers….
     

 
The Mighty Avengers
     
    Jack studied the fighter in front of him and the other pilots.  It was too big to be a real fighter, twice as long as the Hellcat the United States Marine Corps had been adopting over the last fifteen years.  Unlike the aerodynamic Hellcat, the Avenger was angular, harsh lines showing that the design process was still ongoing.  The long nose, as long as the Hellcat on its own, jutted out of the massive fuselage that housed the cockpit.  Thick wings spread out on either side, carrying what looked like massive gravitic cannons, but Jack wasn’t certain he liked that.  In fact, he was pretty certain he didn’t.  He couldn’t see the missile racks that made the Hellcat such a powerful space superiority fighter.  With gravitic cannons, the Avenger would be more of an attack craft, designed for anti-shipping duties.  Though what looked like an engine tacked on above and below showed that it was designed to maneuver.
    Then there was the heavy weapons turret, housing what looked like four heavy laser arrays, hanging below the nose.  That was twice the laser power of a Hellcat’s smaller laser arrays, but the Hellcat had three weapons mounts, including a turret on each wing.  He didn’t like the idea of having all the weapons on a single turret.  It would be too easy for a lucky shot to blow them all off, and then anyone piloting this thing would be in serious trouble.  Jack pursed his lips and turned to the other pilots, wondering if they were as worried about this fighter as he was.  One look was all it took.  They were.
    A colonel stepped forward, and every pilot and cyber came to attention, saluting him automatically.  The colonel saluted back and frowned.
    “At ease,” he ordered and the pilots and cybers relaxed.  “I am Lieutenant Colonel Mathew Johanson, commander of Marine Fighter Attack Squadron 112, the Cowboys.  For those of you for whom the news blackouts actually worked, the Shang attack destroyed all squadrons in California and near Washington DC.  All regular and reserve squadrons have already been called to duty, protecting what we have left.  The Cowboys have been reinstated and we are recruiting new pilots.  You have not yet been assigned a squadron.  I’m sure you understand your reason for being here.”
    “Guinea pigs,” someone whispered under his breath.
    Johanson scanned the line of recruits like he’d bitten off a particularly sour grapefruit.  “I understand that many of you have expressed a preference to piloting Hellcats.  The Cowboys are not a Hellcat unit.  We have been assigned the first Avengers off the production line, by the supreme intelligence of the United States Congress and the personal politicking of the Senior Senator of the Great Republic of Texas.  Oorah.”  Johanson waited until he received a ragged series of Oorahs before continuing.  “We are looking for volunteers to fly in this revitalized unit.  Please note that