"Relentless is away! All stations report in."
A few of the younger or less experienced called out with excitement, but most simply went back to work. Saffron moved from the display and to where the next elevator was due to move up. There was still one fighter, and it was taking much longer than normal to arrive.
Where is it?
Now that the ship was clear, the canopy clamps on the nearest Lightning fighter unfastened, and Ensign Travis Foss jumped down from the cockpit to the cheers of the rest of Knighthawk Squadron. They were a small group of young men and women, but with the ships now hurtling through space, they could gather together to try and relax, even if it were only for a few hours. His brother had arrived seconds before and moved towards him, grabbing his forearm firmly.
"You crazy idiot. You left me on my own out there so you could get your two kills. You know who you reminded me of out there?"
Travis laughed back at him.
"Let me guess..."
He then pointed his finger at his brother and shoved it against his chest.
"You?"
Jaren's eyes widened with amusement.
"Yeah, I did kind of knock down two myself."
Travis shook his head and pointed at his battered fighter. It was riddled with cannon holes and would have been equally at home on a scrapheap, based on its current condition.
"That bird is a monster. I kept getting hit, and she just took it all."
His smile widened.
"I hit a Mokku just after you landed as well."
Travis winked back, and his smile seemed to widen even more.
"That's right, baby, three kills for me!"
As he gloated, his eyebrows rose just as Jaren lurched ahead, completely without warning and struck his brother hard in the torso. Travis staggered back and then lowered his head before charging into his brother. To anybody that didn't know them, it might have looked like a fight, but it was one of the many scuffles they broken out into on the ship.
"Torabisu, Torabisu, Torabisu!" chanted Ensign Fletcher, soon joined by Artur and then a few of the others.
It went on for a few more seconds before Ensign Hawkins moved from Cassandra who still sat upright on the stretcher. Rex stayed with her, ignoring the shouting and cheering. As Hawkins reached the Foss brothers, he whistled a loud shriek that caught their attention.
"Enough! Where is Ensign Lewis?"
They stopped the banter for now, though the Foss brothers continued to speak quietly and occasionally laughed. Hawkins left them and walked up to Travis' fighter. The group spoke quietly to themselves as he examined the craft. Travis and Jaren moved alongside him as he ran his fingers along the fuselage. Finally, he stopped at a section that had sustained three heavy hits and looked back at them.
"So, what the hell happened out there?"
The brothers’ smiles vanished in an instant.
"Uh...what?" Travis asked, "You saw we got five between us, right?"
Hawkins shook his head.
"Yeah, I watched the combat footage, same as everybody else. It all went fine, and you followed protocol until the last thirty seconds. Two Mokku fighters broke away from the fight while the last medium fighter went for Cardigan Bay's engines.
Travis puffed himself up, trying to look even bigger and more threatening than normal. Hawkins was not impressed. He lifted his hand and shook his head.
"Don't go there, Ensign. Don't even think about it."
He then rubbed his forehead while still shaking his head.
"Nate continued to pursue the remaining threat with a crippled fighter and no weapons. He rammed the last fighter, while the two of you were busy chasing a few easy kills."
Everyone was now silent. Both groups had lost people since coming aboard, and there were only ten of them left. Jack was the first casualty, and that had hit Nate and his friends hard. Now the privileged OTC cadets that had been little more than their rivals had lost two of their number. Three dead from thirteen pilots was enough to cripple a squadron, yet they were in no worse shape than Thunder and Corsair Squadrons, both of whom had taken a heavy beating in the fighting around the Gas Mines.
Hawkins might be an ensign, just like the rest of the Knighthawks, but he was the Squadron Leader and Nate his deputy. That gave him authority over the rest, and more important, placed responsibility for all of them in his hands.
"You two separated four times in the fight, each time leaving the others vulnerable while you sort fame and glory. Your fighters took the hits, hits they didn't need to take, and now you've left the Squadron short on fighters."
Travis started to speak, but Hawkins lifted his finger to his mouth to silence him. He then signalled to a senior technician walking along the left side of the fighter and making notes on his wrist-mounted Secpad unit.
"Sergeant, what's your assessment?"
The man was young for his rank, but his eyes betrayed knowledge and experience beyond any of the pilots. He shook his head and sighed before pointing to the holes in the fuselage.
"This fighter has sustained more than forty hits, including terminal damage to the avionics, the port side gun, and fuel system. She's out of action until we get back to port."
He moved his attention to Travis.
"Sir, in future I suggest you don't let them shoot at you quite as much. Any one of these hits could have killed you and your fighter."
With a quick salute he moved back to his work, and Ensign Hawkins turned his attention back to the brothers.
"You both took chances, unnecessary chances so that you could rack up kills, and I will not have than in my squadron. Understood?"
They answered him in the affirmative, but both were now much quieter. At that point, Hawkins turned around and increased his volume so the rest of the Squadron could hear.
"Today we won a victory, a minor one, but still a victory. But there was a cost. We lost two fighters and two more took a beating. Remember, this is combat, not a simulation. We fly as one unit, and we fight to complete the mission."
He looked back to the brothers.
"You both showed skill and bravery today, but that means nothing if you are killed or cannot perform your role as wingmen."
He placed a hand on each of their shoulders.
"You kicked serious ass out there, and the kills for the Knighthawks are racking up. But it's the Squadron and its pilots that I'm more interested in. Let's keep working together, and make sure we all make it back to civilisation in one piece."
With that last part of his speech, his tone softened, and the other pilots appeared to relax. Lieutenant Commander Saffron Holder listened to the speech with interest. The cadets had performed well, no one could argue with that. And Hawkins’ assessment of their fast and loose approach to combat was exactly what she would have said herself.
"There might be hope for them yet."
She paced the deck while more than a dozen medics and technicians waited on the portside deck as the elevators finished their ascent from the central landing deck. Her uniform was pressed and tight as always, and her long, dark brown hair hung down loosely at her shoulders. On her third pass an arm reached out and blocked her movement. It was the gruff Captain Cornwallis.
"That will do. They'll be here soon enough."
The young officer gazed at the rough face of the Captain. Unlike hers, it was pockmarked from years of hard living and hard fighting. A thin layer of grey stubble served as a reminder of the hardships all the crew were going through. There was little free time on the ship, and most were serving excessively long hours, to the detriment of their health and capabilities.
"At least the girl got out in one piece. She was lucky."
He lifted his right eyebrow, the one that twitched due to the damage sustained to his ocular cavity at some point in the past. She followed his gaze and nodded upon seeing Cassandra Hurley being helped onto a stretcher. She sat upright and joked with several of her friends who had been waiting nearby. She wanted to go over to sp
eak with her, but there was something more important right now.
"There."
The Captain pointed at the elevator as it moved up to the deck. Atop the metal plating was the smoking shape of Ensign Lewis' fighter. Much of the metal was covered in fire retardant foam that clung tightly to the battered and broken shape.
"Pilots, stay back. Leave this to the deck hands."
Captain Cornwallis' voice boomed loudly, much like a seasoned sergeant major. Not one of the pilots moved closer; even the twins stayed back and watched for signs of Nate. Technicians surrounded the broken fighter and sprayed it with a clearing agent. The special fluid cleared the foam, yet retained a silky finish to the metal that would stop flames from taking hold, as well as nullifying any chances of electrical sparks.
"Nate?" Cassandra called out.
She tried to get down from her stretcher, but Rex was there and held her back. Steam spread out around the base of the fighter, and then with a painful cracking sound the hinge plates snapped open. Two of the crew used metal tooling to pull the cockpit apart, and then they were helping Nate out. To the astonishment of every single person on the deck, he was conscious and even able to support his own weight. Both Captain Cornwallis and Lieutenant Commander Holder moved closer.
"Son, you hurt?" Captain Cornwallis asked.
As he asked the question, his damaged ocular cavity twitched uncomfortably. He might have been worried for his pilots, but not once did he betray his feelings. One of the crew tapped the side of Nate's helmet; another carefully removed it while checking for damage. The last thing any of them wanted was to cause further damage. After some careful manoeuvring, it lifted off Nate's sweat-covered face. He blinked several times and then wiped his brow.
"That was...intense."
A medic approached but before he could speak, Nate looked over towards Cassandra.
"Did we all make it back in one piece?"
Cassandra couldn't quite hear him from further back, but her friendly wave, and the fact that she was sitting upright with Rex alongside her, reassured Nate. The other pilots moved closer to him, Ensign Hawkins at the front. He reached out with his right arm in a friendly gesture, and though a little surprised, Nate grabbed it and both shook.
"That was some crazy flying out there today, Nate. Commander Higgins has posted Relentless' kills, and we gave a damned good account for ourselves."
Ensign Fletcher, the skinniest of the group nodded repeatedly.
"Is it true? You rammed a Mahingan fighter?"
Nate shrugged, and Fletcher shook his head. He then looked at the broken fighter and laughed.
"You know you have guns, right?"
Nate smiled as he answered.
"My guns and missiles were gone, and targeting was knocked out. It was either ram him, or let him take out Cardigan Bay's engines."
No one noticed the figure of Lieutenant Commander Holder as she moved right behind Ensign Fletcher.
"You made the right decision, Nate."
As they turned, each lifted their hands in messy, impromptu salutes. She returned the gesture and then focussed her attention on Nate.
"Tactical scans show the armour was already breached in that area. The Mahingan's impact path would have severed the ship's fuel lines to her port engine bank, and either set off a series of explosions, or merely knocked out her main thrusters and left her a sitting duck."
Her lips lifted a little, but it was still not quite a smile.
"Knighthawks, you stopped a disaster today and saved upwards of a thousand lives. Good work."
Nate took a step and then dropped forwards. Lieutenant Commander Holder caught him, and the other pilots helped hold him up. Nate muttered something, but his speech was slurred.
"It's okay," said Lieutenant Commander Holder, "He's weak, probably from all the excitement."
She signalled to the medics.
"Get him to the medical bay and check him over. I need him fit and ready ASAP."
"Sir."
Three orderlies took Nate away and left the senior officer with the other pilots.
"Well, we're due home in a few days. I suggest you all get some rest. You'll be on call again when Thunder Squadron comes off standby."
With that she left. They said nothing for several seconds. Billy, who had been silent until now, broke the deathly silence.
"I need caffeine, and fast."
Travis struck his shoulder.
"Good plan, little buddy. Get me a drink, and then we can all talk about my mad heroics."
Billy laughed and they left, each stopping at Cassandra's stretcher for a few seconds. Finally, just Billy and Matilda remained. They stayed back to speak with Cassandra and Rex while the others moved off into the distant passageway.
"That was way too close," said Matilda.
She moved closer to Cassandra, examining the marks on her head and arms. They were little more than discoloured shapes, and there was no sign of cuts of anything too deep. There were a few white marks on her face, but nothing to suggest burns.
"Just bruises and abrasions, right?"
Cassandra nodded, but as she moved, she grimaced. Her right arm came up to grasp her head. A medic held her and shook his head.
"Let me give you something for the pain. You need to stay still. You've experienced heavy whiplash, and you'll feel it tomorrow, I can promise you."
He leaned in and pushed a metallic injector to her arm. The device fired micro chemicals into her limb without needing to use a needle. All she felt was a cold tickle, and then he rubbed to entry point with a small, infused patch.
"Hold that for thirty seconds. Then you can rest."
The man left, and Billy took the opportunity to get even closer.
"Let's get to the nitty-gritty. You're the first of us to eject. What was it like?"
There was no sense of sarcasm in his tone, but Cassandra wasn't entirely sure if that was his intent. She looked to Rex who grabbed her hand and squeezed it. That seemed to relax her. Their eyes remaining locked for a moment before she turned her attention back to Billy.
"Billy. It was the single most terrifying thing I've ever done. But nothing as bad as surviving."
Billy's face seemed to light up, even though he wasn't entirely sure what she meant.
"Really?"
Cassandra nodded.
"I knew I was gone, and I knew my fighter was going to be destroyed. I panicked and hit the eject button and closed my eyes. Next thing there is pain and shaking. I thought that was it."
His eyes were now wide open, like a child listening to an exciting tale being read by a parent.
"And that wasn't the worst part?"
Cassandra nodded in agreement, and once again moved her eyes to share a glance with Rex. He gave her a nod to continue but said nothing.
"That's right. The explosion and the ejection were over in less than three seconds."
Billy's brow tightened in confusion.
"So, how...uh, what?"
Cassandra chuckled.
"When I opened my eyes it was clear, and I could see the battle from inside the pod. All without overlays, computer displays, or extra data. Just engines, gunfire, and missiles."
Matilda nodded as she listened.
"Of course. With the pod blasted clear of the wreckage, you now had no armour, no engines, and no weapons."
"Exactly," said Cassandra, "One minute I was in command of a heavy fighter, next thing I'm in a pod."
Billy seemed to understand now.
"Yeah, that's normally where we quit and return to the lobby."
"Yes, but this time I was in space, with no ability to control or influence anything going on. I saw Nate fly past and the guns of the enemy fighters."
She visibly shuddered as she explained what had happened.
"At any moment they could have turned their guns on me, but they didn't. Instead, I had to watch as our ships were pummelled. I saw our friends shot at, and all I could do was run for my life. It took six minu
tes to get to Relentless, and every second was terrifying."
She lifted a plastic beaker and sipped the water for a second. Her rate of breathing had increased merely by the act of recalling what had happened.
"I've got one piece of advice to give you."
Billy leaned in, and Matilda even took half a step closer to listen.
"Don't lose your fighter in a dogfight."
Rex laughed and pointed off to the passage that led deep inside the ship.
"Time to get you to the medical bay for a check up."
As Matilda and Billy walked ahead of them, Cassandra grabbed Rex's hand.
"Stay with me. Will you?"
He said nothing, but gave her a gentle nod as the orderlies pushed the wheeled stretcher from the deck. As they left, Rex gave the deck one last glance. It was busier than he'd ever seen it, as deck crew moved to clear the debris and flotsam created by the recently arrived spacecraft. At the same time, members of Corsair Squadron appeared and moved off into the large hangar space to check on their own equipment. Rex spoke quietly, so much so that not even Cassandra could hear him.
"Relentless never sleeps. She's always ready for a fight."
CHAPTER FOUR
Alliance Battleship 'ANS Warlord'
Admiral Churchill walked along the deck to the wide, semi-circular bridge. Unlike the other ships in the fleet, the Vengeance Class Battlecruisers, from which Warlord was developed, had a full width, forward facing bridge. In combat, it would be completely sealed by retracting inside the thickly armoured hull. For now it pushed up from the superstructure from where the Admiral could survey his fleet. Large, square windows ran from left to right, giving a perfect view of both flanks and directly ahead. He waited there, gazing out at the other vessels.
Just a few more days.
Three of the Liberty Class destroyers were just visible at a distance of nearly two hundred kilometres ahead. The bright blue glow of their engines gave the impression they were a triangular constellation. He looked to the right at the much closer shape of a Crusader Class ship. From his position it looked tiny, yet he could still make out its ungainly shape, and the engines left a blue streak trailing behind. It was quiet this far forward and away from others. Behind him were the rest of the bridge and an arched dividing wall marking the boundary between this section and the CIC. Only one other person waited on the bridge, and both of them looked out at the stars. Nothing seemed to move, and it was hard to sense the scale of distance when the nearest celestial objects didn't move, even after hours of travel.
Operation Hellfire Page 4
