“Stay low and boost your engines. We have to be quick.”
“Roger,” replied both pursuing pilots. Nate had no idea who they were, but right now they were only interested in what he had to say. On they went, even as the remainder of marines, Grunts, and combat suits landed around the derelict. Nate could see more than a thousand were on the ground now, and the chatter from the battle was intensive. Every few seconds an indicator that a Grunt or marine had been killed popped up, and it left him with a sick feeling deep in his stomach.
Stay with it, Nate.
The three craft reached the end of the path, only to run into what looked like a wall of gantries and bulkheads. Nate checked his mapping data, and it confirmed that the target was just a few hundred metres further along, but behind the obstruction.
“What? No…there has to be a way through.”
He pulled the nose up and rose nearly fifty metres, but still there was no clear way ahead.
“Major. There’s no way through from here. I can’t get…”
“Find a way.”
The officer’s voice crackled into noise as continuous gunfire blotted out the sound. The odd stray word came in, but then more gunfire, and even explosions. Nate spotted more casualties appear on his status display, and in a fit of desperation reached over and hit the thing, putting it into power save mode.
“What’s going on?”
Nate looked back and found Valdis and Matilda both peering in through the hatch.
“Can’t get through.”
“Try loading shafts,” said Valdis, pointing to the left.
Nate turned his Jackal around, but could not see where she was pointing.
“There,” said Matilda, “Follow the pipes on the deck, and then up to the circular hatch. See it?”
It was tiny and barely visible from where they were, and Nate just shook his head in astonishment.
“What, that thing?”
“Valdis leaned in, even managing to hit the engine controls before Nate wrestled them from her.
“Hey! Okay, I’ve got it.”
With careful manoeuvring, he spun around completely and raced above the ground, just metres from the thick cooling pipes. The other two Jackals formed up close behind, leaving clouds of dust in their wake.
“Okay, stay close and watch the paintwork.”
Nate chuckled to himself, but when he glanced at his comrades, neither was smiling back at him. He focussed on the shaft and boosted the power to the lamps, flooding them with light. It didn’t take long for it to split up, and Valdis tapped his shoulder.
“Right!”
They twisted and turned for almost twenty seconds before blasting out into a massive internal dry dock. This one was truly gigantic with a main construction area of nearly two kilometres in length. There was nothing inside it, but far off to the left two large platforms faced a series of massive shielded blast doors. All of them knew what they were looking at, and Matilda almost choked.
“Fighter station. Not the place to be.”
There were six spacecraft, each spread out around a lift system that was already rising from deep underground. Doors swung opened from near the fighters, and armoured figures ran out towards the nearest of the craft.
“Hit them!”
Missiles streaked down into the pit, and the unit soon stopped, trapping whoever was coming up from reaching the fighters. Guns raked the pilots and crew, and those that survived sheltered behind the black fighters and moved back inside their secure stations on the deck.
“Nice,” said Nate.
He looked around and pointed at the massive dry dock.
“The computer says the weapon is here. So where is it?”
All of them looked out into the vast, empty basin in silence. Large cranes hung uselessly, while scaffolding and gantry units lay folded and partially disassembled at each side.
“Whatever they were building, it isn’t here anymore,” said Matilda.
Nate swallowed painfully.
“It’s not a weapon.”
He looked to Matilda.
A ship! Wait…those dimensions.
He brought up the details of the base below them; specifically the area where the massive weapon system was being assembled. It didn’t take long for the computer to confirm it matched the exact size and mass as the ship the Alliance ships were seconds away from reaching. He tried to speak, but Matilda was there before him, and she broadcast on the command network for all the senior officers to hear. It wasn’t protocol, but that meant little to her.
“Emergency transmission. This base hasn’t been producing a weapon. It’s been constructing a warship. System flags it was super-battleship in size. It matches no known ships in the registry. The computer confirms the massive Rift generating power source is gone!”
Unusually, she wasn’t shut down, but instead of the constant chatter, everything fell silent, and an even angrier warrior replaced the gravelly voice of Major Spartan.
“Spartan’s busy.”
Then came a terrible volley of heavy gunfire and grunting as the unseen warriors continued the fight. The gunfire was much louder now, and Nate could only imagine the terrible things that were happening. He’d seen Spartan and the others, and they didn’t just carry guns. He was infamous for his use of the bayonet, and that sent another chill down his spine. Then the voice returned, and Nate could see from the IFF tag that it was Captain Khan, Spartan’s second-in-command, and a massive warrior second only to Colonel Gun.
“Are you sure? We’re kind of busy here, Ensign!”
“Yes, Sir. We’re sure. Whatever was down here has gone, and we believe it is heading directly towards Colonel Gun and the fleet.”
The next pause was brief, and Nate suspected something terrible had happened. Then Khan roared and shouted several unintelligible, and undoubtable foul insults as he hacked and stabbed at an unseen enemy. Then he spoke again, with a hint of excitement in his voice.
“We’ve set the charges on the derelict. Spartan says you need to get back here, and fast.”
Nate started to speak but the Captain drowned him out.
“It’s time to leave, Ensign. And my people need urgent evacuation. They’re pouring onto the deck now. We’ve got a few minutes before we’re overrun.”
He grunted, fired a burst, and then laughed loudly. “This is gonna be close. Spartan, get down!”
Nate nodded as though the Captain could see him, but as he was about to speak to confirm, he noticed a pair of motorised gun batteries swivel around to fire, but the gunners on the other two Jackals were ready. They opened up using the flank gun turrets and top-mounted missiles to blast them apart, but not before a heavy burst hammered into Nate’s craft, blasting off one engine and knocking out another.
“Hold on!” he yelled, “We’re going down!”
There was little time to prepare, and though tough, the Jackal could not operate effectively in this environment with both flank engines off-line.
Stay level!
He needed to try and land on the retractable skids, and activated barely in time. In just four seconds they were on the ground. It was a hard landing, cushioned only by the fact that Nate flared the two remaining engines at the last moment. The initial impact was on the rear left engine that tore off instantly. Then the skids made contact, the pistons compressing and collapsing under the weight. The body slammed down in a cloud of light and broken metal. Communications and computer systems utterly failed, leaving Nate in the darkness, with the wounded and barely conscious co-pilot trying to speak.
Unusually, Nate managed to remain conscious from the impact, and unhurt, but he was still thrown about by the crash. As soon as they were still, he looked back at the hatch to check on his friends.
“Everybody okay?”
Lieutenant Commander Holder appeared. In her right hand she held a carbine, and in her left, a heavily scratched PDS Marine Corps helmet.
“We’re good, Nate. Now get out of this thing. We ne
ed to move, and fast!”
Nate moved to the side of the cockpit, hit the release, and opened the small side hatch. Cool air washed in, as well as the crackle of small arms fire. He didn’t wait to see what happened next and hurled himself out. He hit the ground hard, but thin armour in the joints of his PDS Naval Armour stopped anything more than bruising.
He looked back to see Lieutenant Commander Holder clambering out, while a pair of marines helped pull the wounded co-pilot from the cockpit. Now that they were on the surface, they had a better view of the launch deck, fighter hangars, and other structures that seemed to grow out of the very walls of the station. The massive shipyard that had seemed so close was now little more than a distant structure, barely visible, apart from the scores of cranes waiting patiently for their next job. Even the construction drone robots were stationary and silent.
“Spread out!”
The tiny Marine contingent fanned out ahead of the crashed Jackal and waved for the others to fall in behind them. Nate rushed to join them and slid down behind Valdis. While the pilots kept low, the marines leaned out from cover and opened fire. Their guns blasted away, forcing back the few brave pilots who raced out to their waiting fighters.
“Watch out!”
Nate turned around, but the three Byotai soldiers were already there. They wore different uniforms to normal, and all were lightly armoured. Each carried the usual thermal weapons, and the first fired but missed him by centimetres. Nate spotted the hissing projectile embedded in the ground, while the marines swung around and opened up. Nate fumbled for the safety on his own carbine, but by the timer was ready, the marines had already done their job. Valentine tapped his shoulder.
“Leave the grunt work to us, Nate.”
The two other Jackals swept in to help, and the nearest opened its flank doors, but the hidden enemy troops opened fire, showering them in bullets. One took multiple impacts on an engine mount and lost altitude. Only through a mixture of skill and luck did the pilot pull up and then circle around to strafe the blast doors that led deep inside the fortified facility. The enemy soldiers fell back to better-protected areas.
That was the second that Nate had an idea. Even as the shots whistled overhead, he called out to his friends.
“Matilda, can we fly ‘em?”
A fusillade of rifles struck nearby, most of it concentrated on the Jackals now circling further away. Both opened up with their turrets, but the barrage fire from the top-mounted rockets did the real work.
“Those things?”
Matilda pointed to the black fighters sitting on the deck. They’d looked big in space, but out here they seemed more like small ships than fighters. Their four odd shaped wings pushed out at the rear to create a partial ring around the fuselage. The mass driver mounts were substantial, and the turrets protected every approach angle. More important than any feature, four of them had their cockpit sections open, and with large metal steps leading up to them. Another ramp led up to the side of the nearest fighter, showing a cramped interior that could possibly take a few people inside. Matilda flashed a smile at Nate.
“We can fly anything.”
The second Jackal moved in close, but before it made it to within fifty metres, a heavy gun opened up. The pilot jinked to avoid the fire and then lifted up, the four engines burning bright with power. Lieutenant Commander Holder tapped Nate on the shoulder.
“Do it! Everybody to the fighters!”
The odd mixture of pilots and marines raced away from the wreckage. Those with weapons blasted at the numerous blast doors and platforms, all of which now bristled with scores and scores of crewmembers and soldiers. Nate had never felt so terrified and elated at the same time. He ran past the first and kept on going until approaching the last of the four fighters. A pilot and two soldiers were nearby, and one of them pulled off a thick cable from the side. He spotted Nate and shouted. The pilot raced up the steps, while the two soldiers opened fire. An Alliance marine fell, but the return fire struck into the enemy, sending both running from the launch platform. Nate reached the narrow steps heading up to the cockpit and grabbed the rails. He climbed up. Just as he reached the top, the pilot stepped out and pointed a pistol at his head. Nate hesitated and then heard a familiar voice.
“Get down!”
Without thinking, he threw himself against the steps. A single shot rang out, and when he looked back, the pilot was on the ground, unmoving. Standing over his body was Valdis, with a smoking pistol in her hands. Nate wanted to say something, but another burst of fire hit the fighter, leaving scratch marks on its smooth, black finish.
“Get in!”
Nate jumped over the top and into the spacious cockpit. It was wide and easily big enough for two pilots, and perhaps another two or three behind them. The space behind the cockpit was narrow, but led back inside the fighter where he could see Valentine and another marine moving into the narrow cargo space. He looked to the front and gulped at seeing the Byotai rune symbols everywhere. The main control column looked familiar, though, and as he reached for it, the pedals and seating automatically adjusted to his small frame. Valdis lowered into the seat alongside him, activated the straps, and began hitting buttons.
“Same layout as a Mantis. We can make this work.”
Nate nodded repeatedly, and then looked back at the others.
“Strap in and shut the doors. We’re leaving.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Alliance Assault Carrier 'ANS Victorious', Orbiting Ctenosaura Primus
28 December 2472
Colonel Gun eyed up the fleet carefully. They were now within a thousand kilometres of the enemy, a mere spitball in a cruiser engagement. Both sides had sustained damage, but the Star Empire ships had lost two cruisers already. Now they were through and heading directly towards the main force of four two Wildfire Cruisers and a pair of the much tougher Byotai Cohort Class attack cruisers. They were bigger than their name suggested.
“That battleship is adding nothing to this fight,” said Gun, “They are letting me close to within boarding range, and that is something I want to do. So tell me, anybody. What is their strategy?”
Commander Higgins waited, but none of them answered. So he spoke up and stated exactly what he thought was happening.
“Colonel. A ship of that size must be carrying heavy weaponry. That, or they have something on board that can neutralise your boarding party.”
Gun laughed.
“Neutralise? I have part of the Blood Pack on board. I’d like to see any ship stand up to a company of armoured and pumped up Jötnar.”
His expression then changed.
“But they must know that. Yes, interesting.”
He turned to the central screen and pointed at the enemy formation.
“Focus fire on the Byotai ships and bring me in closer.”
General Honorius tapped the nearest display and brought up the wing mounts.
“Focus your attention on the wing mounts. These are their primary batteries, and they are powerful indeed.”
Gun had no problem in deferring to the General’s expertise.
“You heard the man. Concentrate on their primary weapons.”
The ship shuddered as more shells hit their craft, followed by a long series of flashes along the hull of one of the heavy transports. Commander Higgins winced as he watched entire sections of armour tear away, exposing inner compartments. He knew people must have lost their lives, but there was nothing he could do about that now.
“Colonel!”
The armoured monster looked back at him with an impatient look on his face.
“Yes?”
“Major Spartan. He’s achieved his objective and is moving to the Jackals. I’m sending in the last few drones to assist.”
“What about those Phantoms?”
“The fighters?”
Colonel Gun snarled. “Of course. Are they still out there?”
“There are five still in the air, Sir.”
“Then send everything we have left against them. Clear the skies for Spartan.”
“But, Sir. What…”
Gun’s eyes narrowed, and right away Commander Higgins knew he’d gone far enough. The Colonel had given his orders, and he was clearly not to be trifled with.
“Understood, Sir. I will send in the last of my drones.”
As he turned back to his display, he nearly choked. His drones had achieved some successes, but according to his system, there were just fourteen left in combat, and they were finding it almost impossible to engage the powerful and agile Star Empire heavies. He ran through the squadrons using orders where he could, but with so few now capable of fighting, his options become less and less obvious. He almost despaired until he heard the two senior officers talking.
“All ships turn your guns on the enemy battleship and converge on her flanks. Target all weapons at these points.”
Commander Higgins could see the focussed area on his own display, and noticed that the points were two places. First, the massive sphere that crackled with energy. It had been dormant until a few seconds ago, and now increased with power exponentially. The second, the bank of powerful engines at the rear, as well as the partial ring of nacelles that suggested the ship may have some basic FTL capability, no doubt another side effect of the technology they’d taken from the alien derelict.
“All ships, spool up the interstellar drives, and lock in waypoint Theta. Wait for my command.”
He then turned to Captain Delatorre.
“How long after a fractional movement can you reuse the engines?”
The Captain ran the maths in his head, and to his surprise came out with an answer before even Five-Seven could check the computer.
“Thirty seconds, providing the engines retain enough energy. Why, Sir?”
“Good. Here are the coordinates. Be ready.”
Star Crusader: Battle Fleet Victorious Page 22
