Star Crusader: Knighthawk Squadron

by Michael G. Thomas

  "I see. And what are your majors?"

  The pilot looked carefully into the eyes of Commander Higgins. There was something about the young man that sat uncomfortably with him.

  "Medicine, Sir."

  Commander Higgins almost choked on hearing those words.

  "And you want to be a gunship pilot in the Alliance Navy?"

  This time the young man shook his head furiously. His expression was not so much of surprise, but something much closer to having been offended. It was as though the Commander had suggested the young man wished to be a lavatory cleaner.

  "Uh...no, Sir. All seven of us are OTC cadets. We're just here for the college credit. We were on the way for a training exercise on Spascia before we were sent here."

  The conversation went on for another ten minutes until he finally let the relieved pilots leave. They made for the elevators, and soon it was only the deck crews still there, busily checking and prepping their new spacecraft for the secretive operation. Then Commander Higgins recalled the words from the Captain about the civilians all leaving the ship and smiled.

  Yes, that could be interesting. That could be very interesting.

  He reached for the Secpad bracelet and activated the unit.

  "Group message to Crusader Squadron. I need to see them...fast!"

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Alliance Armoured Assault Ship 'ANS Relentless'

  Nate closed his eyes and then pushed the two painkillers into his mouth and swallowed. The pain had been building for hours, and now it had broken out to leave him in a cold sweat and shaking. He moved as quickly as he dared, even though his body kept telling him to rest. Try as he might, he was simply unable to sleep, and even when he did, he kept waking. He'd never felt so shattered before, both mentally and physically. The days of living on the edge had finally caught up, and he felt like he needed an entire week in bed to recuperate. He'd tried to rest over the last few hours, but the exhaustion had finally taken a hold of him.

  "Hey, Nate. You okay?"

  Nate heard the words, but it still took nearly two full seconds before he fully registered the sounds. He lifted his eyes to his best friend and shook his head. It felt as though his brain was floating in a thick soup and moving far slower than his skull.

  "Uh...yeah. I've taken the painkillers. I just need a few more minutes."

  Billy shook his head.

  "No way, Nate, what you need is a good night's sleep. Being on standby has taken it out of you."

  He nodded slowly in agreement while Billy kept talking.

  "Tell me about it. I keep waking up every fifteen minutes. I have to say, being a pilot must be a hard job, a dammed hard job. Don't forget we've been on standby for the entire journey home. No backup crews and no relief of any kind. We need a week to recover."

  The two waited for a moment, giving Nate time for his head to calm a little. After nearly a minute, Billy grab Nate's arm.

  "Come with me. You need water."

  They continued through the ship, continually checking their feet for cables and storage boxes. Never before had Nate and Billy seen so many people aboard the aged warship. Engineers and technical crew from five different ships were now there and busily patching and repairing every part of the ship. As they walked along the corridors, he was forced to move aside on five separate occasions as men and women passed carrying heavy loads.

  "This is weird," said Billy.

  Nate grunted in reply, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. The passage was quite large, yet the number of people and equipment had left little space to move. Both waited as four personnel walked past guiding a wheeled platform that carried a massive piece of machinery. So big was the unit that Billy had to open one of the storage room doors and step out of the way to let it pass.

  "What is that thing?"

  Nate lifted his eyes from the ground and gazed at the confusion of gears and metal rods.

  "Uh...no idea. Maybe a cannon mount for the turrets."

  The light on Billy's wrist flickered, and as he waved his right hand over the unit, a projection of something appeared. Billy studied it for a few seconds and then looked to Nate.

  "I need to go. There's some problem with the seating on my fighter. Better go and see what it's all about."

  Nate tried to smile.

  "You'd better go, then."

  Billy did the same and managed to put on a better attempt at a smile.

  "I will. See you back at the canteen?"

  Nate nodded, and as quickly as that his friend was gone. He waited for a while, watching the men and women walking back and forth until his stomach reminded him of why they had been travelling here. It was only a short walk to make it back to the fully re-opened canteen. He walked inside in something of a daze. The battle at the Theta Spacebridge had been three days ago, yet still his body shook.

  "Over here," said a familiar voice.

  Nate looked off to his right and found Cassandra and Rex propping up a wall. They held cups and seemed at ease in their surroundings. He headed towards them, yet Rex barely acknowledged him until he was two metres away. Finally, the young cadet looked back at Nate, lifting an eyebrow in greeting.

  "Nate."

  He then leaned off to one side, a whimsical expression on his face.

  "I thought Billy was coming as well?"

  Nate moved inside and made for the drink dispensers.

  "Yeah...he has something else to do."

  He was so shattered he didn't even notice the place was full of new men and women. As he reached for a drink, a hand came down onto his shoulder. Nate spun about, his face pale and his eyes wide open.

  "Sorry, mate. Are you okay?"

  He was so tense and on edge that anything could make him snap. As he looked at the new arrival, he barely even recognised the off-duty fatigues as being military issue. It was regular Navy, a pilot, and a small patch on his chest marked him out as a flight lieutenant in Corsair Squadron. His accent was smooth and sophisticated, almost too sophisticated.

  "I...yes, I'm fine."

  Nate shook his head and then dropped down in one of the metal chairs. Rex leaned in closely and so fast that Nate's eyes blurred for a second.

  "Have you heard the news?"

  He shook his head.

  "Nope."

  Rex glanced at Cassandra, and then spoke in a whisper.

  "They are kicking us out. We're being sent home."

  Nate wasn't entirely sure he'd heard that last part.

  "Home? Are you kidding?"

  Cassandra moved even closer and reached out to cover Nate's mouth.

  "Yes. We overheard the Corsair pilots talking. We're expected to be off in less than an hour."

  Rex grinned, his mouth extending widely. He moved his hand closer to Nate and showed him a message from Lieutenant Higgins.

  "It's a message telling us to run down our simulation model. He wants it cleared and reset before Relentless leaves."

  "So?"

  Cassandra sighed.

  "Really, Nate? I wonder if your brain is even switched on sometimes."

  She then leaned in close as before.

  "If they can't find us, they can't get rid of us, can they?"

  Nate was confused.

  "Uh, what do you mean?"

  "Get to the Fighter Control Suite and fast. It's the best-sealed part of the ship, and it's easy to lose track of time on the simulators."

  The two were already on their feet when Nate reached out to grab Cassandra's arm.

  "They will still know we're not on board, though."

  Now it was Cassandra's turn to grin. She was so close her mouth brushed along Nate's cheek. With her left hand, she grabbed his left wrist and the Secpad bracelet.

  "Matilda's idea. She's a smart one, you know? Just put it in with your kitbag and hurry. Then join us in the control suite. We have some simulations to run before we leave with the others."

  Nate's head might have been hurting, but he already liked the sound of this p
lan.

  * * *

  6 hours later

  None of the six cadets noticed the warning spreading through the interior of ANS Relentless. The countdown ran down, and then one-by-one the engines activated. The ship's stabilisers kicked in almost immediately, and any disorientation they might have felt would have been easily ignored in the middle of such an intense session. The fleet had been travelling for more than an hour before Commander Higgins made his way to the Fighter Control Suite.

  None of this meant a thing to Nate. His arms were tired, yet for some reason piloting the Lightning IIA had relaxed him. The pounding in his head had vanished, and the more he concentrated on his game, the better he felt. He lined up on Billy's tail and fired a quick burst from the wing-mounted guns. With every hour he spent controlling these Kerberos pattern fighters, he was beginning to find they were his favourite. More agile, better armoured, and equipped with more powerful weapons than normal, it was hardly much of a surprise.

  "I've got you. Hold your breath!"

  Billy did his best, but his position was untenable, and before he could escape, Nate put seven rounds into the rear fuselage. The fighter exploded in a bright red fireball, and Nate rushed past, his fighter banking hard to the right.

  "Now that is how you do it!"

  Billy grumbled, his voice increasing in pitch as he complained.

  "What? Come on, how did you get that shot? There's no way you could have pulled that off for real. You're such a lucker!"

  Nate laughed.

  "Once, maybe. But three times in an hour. I don't think so. Maybe next time you'll watch your rear scanners. We don't always have a wingman to watch our backs."

  Nate spun his Lightning fighter around just as Matilda and Cassandra came at him from opposite directions. Both of them fired with their own wing-mounted guns. At this close range it was risky trying to make use of the medium to long-range missiles. There was also the fact they wanted to best each other in gunnery and flying, and that meant good, old fashioned piloting skills.

  "This time you're mine, pal," said Billy.

  A hundred kilometres away another respawned fighter crewed by Billy launched from the carrier and began accelerating towards them. None had noticed that Rex was nowhere to be seen, and the three of them moved into a long and complex corkscrew manoeuvre as each jostled for position. Cassandra struck Matilda with one burst, but the damage was minimal. All the while, Nate pulled even tighter turns until his pursuers almost struck each other.

  "You're gonna have to do better than that," said Nate.

  When the door opened, not one of the five cadets noticed. All of them were seated inside the semi-enclosed simulator pods inside the Fighter Control Suite. Commander Higgins entered and walked along the open space that ran down the length of the large room, and towards the command pit. Once there he activated the command system, and the space above the pit changed to a tactical model of the battle, as well as showing all identified vessels. He leaned in to get a better view.

  "What's this, a death match scenario?"

  The fighters circled about as they all did their best to get around behind their opponents, simultaneously avoiding the gunfire of the others. The officer activated the video communications and spoke with a calm, but clearly irritable tone.

  "This mission is over. Return...now."

  It took a couple of seconds, but one by one the pilots disengaged from the system and deactivated their pods. Rex was first out of his, Matilda coming next. As they spotted the Commander at the pit, the mood quickly changed. Now Nate and the others were up and each moved closer together.

  "Well, I see you all somehow managed to stow aboard instead of leaving, as you were supposed to."

  Nate moved to the front.

  "Sir, we never received orders about leaving. We were..."

  Commander Higgins lifted his right hand to silence him.

  "Let me stop you there. You know, and I know why you are here, and why your kit is not. Luckily for you, there were no official orders sent down through the chain-of-command. Merely a request from the Ambassador."

  Nate looked quickly to his side and found Cassandra looking right back. She gave him a gentle nod as if to confirm this is exactly what they had intended from the start. Nate turned back. The Commander was rubbing his chin as he considered something, or perhaps he merely intended on giving that impression. Noise from the doorway announced the arrival of Lieutenant Commander Holder. She entered the suite and walked smartly towards the group. As one the cadets lifted their hands to salute, but she shook her head.

  "What are you doing? Civilian cadets do not salute."

  She was gruff, stern but not angry. Though with her traditional British accent that was not always easy to tell. There were many cities in the Alliance that contained significant regional populations, and those from the old Earth nation of Britain always seemed to pop up in areas of science, research, education, and shipbuilding. There was also something of an officer tradition that saw them send a not-insignificant percentage of recruits to the Terra Nova officer school.

  Another voice, much gruffer than her, boomed out inside the room.

  "Indeed they do not."

  Nate nearly choked as he watched Captain Cornwallis making his way towards them. He stopped alongside the other two officers and looked out at the group.

  "We left orbit over an hour ago and will arrive at our first Rift Spacebridge first thing in the morning. Once through, the crew will be briefed on our mission, and not a second before."

  His eyes narrowed as he continued.

  "I am to assume that all of you were granted your leave and given orders to vacate this ship."

  All five of the cadets shook their heads. Matilda answered him in short, emotionless tones.

  "We received no requests or orders, Captain. Our position remains as pilots in the provisional Crusader Squadron. Has something changed?"

  The Captain rubbed at his chin.

  "What to do, what to do?"

  Nate couldn't tell if this was serious, or part of some sham or charade. He moved his eyes a fraction to look to his friends.

  "Eyes forward, Cadet," snapped Lieutenant Commander Holder.

  She looked so gentle, but her tone was hard and her expression as cold as ice. The Captain finally looked up at the cadets and scowled.

  "It's true. You are all still on the books, and your after action reports showed promise, but, and this is a big but. I already have enough pilots for my Lightning squadrons, and in good conscience, I cannot simply promote you to pilot status."

  He pointed to the Lieutenant Commander.

  "I don't need five cadets flying on a wing and a prayer when I have twenty-four experienced, qualified, and reliable pilots. What can I use you for?"

  All five remained silent. Even Rex, who was normally the most vocal of the group, remained quiet. Nate looked to each of the officers, but not one of them was giving anything away. He could not tell if they intended on throwing them in the brig, or getting them to wash the floors.

  Do something you idiot, and do it fast!

  He opened his mouth, even before realising what he was going to say.

  "We have a skill, Sir, a unique skill."

  Captain Cornwallis seemed amused at his answer.

  "Really? Explain."

  Nate looked to the other four but not one of them spoke. So he looked back at the Captain and did his best to look confident.

  "We might not be military pilots, but we can out fly any squadron in the fleet. Each of us has logged thousands of hours on Lightning, Avenger, Thunderbolt, and Hammerheads. We've even completed hostile landings commanding Mauler landing craft."

  Captain Cornwallis chuckled.

  "Yes, I've seen your record in the videogame, son, but that is not the real world, is it? I am aware of what happened just a few weeks ago. All five of you fought well, and you lost one of your number. This is war, not the game, and my Lightning squadrons are fully staffed and operational. I ca
nnot simply..."

  "Sir," Cassandra interrupted, "Nate is right. And we have fought piloting drones and actual fighters. Our record stands. We are not inexperienced OTC cadets. We're veteran combat pilots."

  His eyes moved from Nate and at the blonde-haired teenager.

  "That remains to be seen."

  He looked to the other two officers, and Nate was sure he saw the Lieutenant Commander give the Captain a short nod. He then turned and left the room so that just the two officers remained. The Lieutenant Commander looked to the five cadets.

  "I can't use you in Corsair Squadron. My pilots have been working together for more than two years. We are working like a machine. I don't have the time to babysit rookie gamers."

  "And Thunder Squadron?"

  The female officer shrugged.

  "Their commander has seen action fighting out on the Rim, and we've already got more than enough pilots to reform the Squadron."

  She then looked back to the cadets, but this time Commander Higgins spoke.

  "There's one thing that might be of interest."

  "Really, Commander? What might that be?"

  Nate was no fool, and it was clear from the Commander's tone that this was a setup. He held his breath and once more wished he believed in a god so that at least he could pray to someone, or something to help him.

  I'll do whatever you want, I promise.

  "Our new strike squadron. We have just taken on OTC cadets from Proxima Prime, along with their shipment of crated Bullnose Gunships and some fighters. Each gunship needs a pilot and weapons officer. The new OTC cadets are apparently qualified on them, but I've yet to see how they perform in action. Their reports are good, but that's just paper. They're still cadets."

  He moved his eyes to Nate.

  "Maybe the five of you have something to offer the squadron, perhaps a gunnery contest to find our best shots."

  He then looked to his superior.

  "It never hurts to have a little competition on a ship. And you recall the standing order from the Admiral. We need to get every military asset ready for action. This is no training exercise. We are on a war footing and a long way from home."