“I’ll go, too,” Chaz suddenly announced, swinging his legs off his bunk and jumping down. “I’ve never flown with Dodds before, so the sooner I see what he can do, the better we can exploit our strengths and cover our weaknesses.”
Estelle looked bemused as the big man hurried towards Dodds. It was as if she had never heard him string so many words together in one go.
“Yeah, good point,” Kelly added, “I think that having more familiar wingmates will help Dodds to get back up to speed much sooner than … uh … unfamiliar ones.” She hopped off her bed, squeezing between Enrique and Chaz to get to Dodds, taking one of his arms and herding him out the dormitory. Enrique and Chaz hurried along behind them, the four bustling out the room together, leaving Estelle with a flabbergasted look on her face.
“I’ll meet you in the simulation suite, just before lunch,” she called after them.
“No, don’t worry!” Kelly called back, without turning around. “We’ll meet you in the refectory.”
“Man, that was a close one,” Dodds said, as they stepped out into the sunshine.
“Tell me about it,” said Kelly.
“Which way?”
“This way,” Enrique said, leading the group forward. He then hooked a thumb towards Dodds. “Hey, Chaz, can you believe this guy used to date her?”
The big man raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Not that Dodds figured there really was much that needed saying.
IV
— A Glimpse of a Future —
The central floor of the simulator suite was home to a large number of the systems, each one self-contained to guard against any exterior visual distractions. The interior of each module was an exact replica of the designated craft, with readouts and consoles all functioning and performing as they would on that craft.
For the most part, the shiny white suite floor was devoid of anything except for the modules, while a high gallery of observation rooms and offices ran around the perimeter. Numerous staff could be seen milling around inside, performing various tasks. After explaining their requirements to a staff member, Enrique and Dodds made their way over to a TAF module.
Dodds sat down inside, the surrounding screens within powering up to display a convincing astral scene around him. The HUD activated and control consoles lit up as they prepared themselves. A sense of familiarity came over him as he looked about the cockpit, and he reached forward, expertly configuring the craft’s HUD to his preferred liking. He briefly ran over a number of other parts of the system, refreshing his memory, before informing the administrator that he was ready to begin, confident that he remembered everything.
To his dismay, however, he discovered that things were just as Estelle had predicted, and that his performance had suffered greatly. The months away from duty had led to him forgetting some of the more intricate principles of space flight, and he found himself stalling occasionally. It was like trying to drive a car after having done without one for so long.
But he persevered and focused, and an hour later he was well on the way to returning to his original form. He embarked on a series of exercises and courses – each designed to work on various aspects of his skills, from flight handling to basic target practice. After some time, Enrique, Kelly and Chaz joined him on simple training mission, working as a team to fulfil various objectives.
Chaz said very little during the course of the exercise, his silence apparently accompanying him into the cockpit. Whilst the rest of the team would engage in all kinds of genial banter, Chaz’s voice lent itself only when it was required. Even so, it seemed to Dodds that the man was quite an accomplished pilot, with a great deal of experience behind him.
With the exercise complete, the group stopped for lunch, before heading to the central lecture theatre for the afternoon’s briefing.
*
“Th-thank you all f-for coming,” began the lecturer, stuttering through his opening monologue. “May I first welcome y-you to the Obex Research Centre, here on Xalan and er … c-congratulate you all on your selection to become the first to test pilot the Confederation’s newest and most advanced starfighter. I’m sure you’re very ex … excited. Um … My my my name is James Ainsworth and I am the chief engineer on the ATAF project. Th-this is Scott Mansun,” he indicated a man seated just behind him, “the project leader, and you all know Commodore Parks.
“Right, um … I know you’ll probably have a lot of questions, b … but, if you could hold off from asking them … erm … until the end of the presentation, and then Scott will … will gladly take them.”
Probably a good idea, thought Dodds.
Ainsworth studied the podium for a moment, appearing unsure as to how it operated. He pushed a button, and jumped when it didn’t do as he had expected, his microphone cutting off and loud classical music beginning to stream in through the hall’s speakers.
“This could be a long afternoon,” Enrique murmured, as a befuddled Ainsworth, aided by Mansun, attempted to regain control of the presentation. There were some stifled chuckles from the other two teams present in the hall.
Dodds took the opportunity to look at the other teams, seeing that, unlike the White Knights, they were both single-sex. Two groups of five men and five women were seated together in their respective teams. He gave each a quick once-over. There wasn’t a single face amongst the women that he recognised. One turned her head in his direction, a contented smile on her face. She didn’t meet his eyes, however, and soon returned her focus to the front. He guessed she was doing the same thing that he was – sizing up the competition. Neither did he recognise any of the men. Two olive-skinned men, seated at the end of their row, were whispering to each other. He couldn’t make out what they were saying.
“I-I’m sorry about that,” Ainsworth said as the music stopped. “I’m not used to this theatre.” He worked the podium again, this time finding the correct buttons and starting to dim the lights. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Advanced Tactical Assault Fighter, more commonly known as the ATAF,” he began. “It is the … er … spiritual successor to the standard Tactical Assault Fighter that you all know so well, though with many enhancements as … as we are about to see. I’m sure that you will find the following presentation t-t-to be both very informative and impressive.”
The presentation started, the screen showing a sleek, black craft weaving around against a backdrop of planets, nebulas and starships, in what appeared to be a mixture of both artists’ impressions and computer generated imagery. There were no official markings or identifiers on the craft, the black armour complemented only by silver trims on the wings, fins and body. Despite being more or less black, its sleek shape wasn’t lost against the inky-darkness of space, the armour catching the light and softly reflecting the environment about it. The video played out for a few minutes, before fading off and allowing Ainsworth to take over.
The chief engineer went on to speak at length about the new fighter, stuttering his way through various points as he did so. He was keen to point out that the ATAF, though descended from, was quite different to the TAF, and wasn’t simply ‘a TAF with more guns’. Over the next two hours he detailed each and every aspect of the craft, focusing on enhancements which he thought the pilots would find most appealing – a HUD that featured a predictive targeting matrix, allowing the pilot to aim for where their opponent would be, rather than where they were; a weapon loadout that was made up of significantly more powerful armaments than its predecessor; a much higher acceleration rate and top speed; and a shield generation unit that was many times more efficient. The detail of each enhancement was once again accompanied by computer generated imagery, some of which was set planet-side, the remainder in space. Whatever the backdrop, many of the sequences involved something exploding in an overly dramatic fashion.
With his presentation concluded, Ainsworth thanked his audience and moved away from the podium. No one had attempted to ask any questions, but Dodds noticed that all around him people appeared awestruc
k. Everyone, that was, with the exception of Chaz. The big man had sat through most of the presentation with a deadpan expression on his face, slouched down a little in his seat, his arms folded across his chest. He didn’t look all that interested in or even impressed by what he was being shown. Dodds wondered why. At the very least, he would’ve expected to see a flicker of curiosity. Maybe he held the same point of view as Dodds himself – something about all this didn’t look right. He gazed at the image of the craft on the screen, wondering if at any moment he was about to see the wizard behind the curtain. He then leaned over to Enrique. “I don’t know about you, but I’m finding all this a little hard to swallow,” he whispered.
“Which part?”
“Which part?” Dodds said, a little surprised. “Well, where do I start? The bit about a single-seat starfighter being equipped with an accelerator, or that that flimsy-looking crate is better shielded than most naval carriers.”
“It’s just the next evolutionary step up,” Enrique said dismissively. “They make these sorts of advancements all the time. You can bet they’re already working on the successor to that one in a lab somewhere else, too. And you’ve gotta admit,” he added, with a nod towards the screen, “those things look pretty sweet.”
On that point, Dodds had to agree. Even so, the wizard must be there somewhere. “You know,” he said, “my dad has a saying – Never believe everything you hear, and only half of what you see.”
“I don’t think this is one of those cases, mate.”
“Okay, well, imagine this …” Dodds started, putting together an analogy to help better convey his position. With all that they had heard that afternoon, this starfighter, when compared to any other, was in essence the equivalent of taking an ordinary man and strapping a tank cannon to his back. The man would then be given a belt holding two dozen grenades, before being presented with two shotguns, two pistols and two machine guns. Not only would all the added weight be of no consequence to his ability to walk or otherwise move – nor in any way hinder their performance on the battlefield – but they would also be able to run at the speed of a top-class athlete, as well as sustain wounds greater than any ordinary human being could.
Even the idea of such a man, leaping, somersaulting and sprinting through a war-torn, urban landscape, did not seem ludicrous enough, to sway Enrique’s opinion.
“Questions?” Scott Mansun asked, taking to the podium. A flurry of hands went up, none of which belonged to Dodds. Nor for that matter, Dodds noticed, to Chaz.
“Yes, you,” Mansun said, indicating the team of women, “the young lady in the middle there.”
A tall woman with curly blonde hair got to her feet. “First Lieutenant Andrea Kennedy, Red Devils, sir,” she introduced herself. “I’m aware that I’m probably about to ask the same question as everyone else,” she looked around briefly, “but I have to know – how did you manage to outfit a single-man starfighter with a plasma accelerator? I mean, we’re talking about a weapon that is usually only found on warships and orbital defence platforms; a weapon that is capable of cleaving a passenger vessel in two, with ease. The power requirements must be astronomical!”
Yes, how did you do that? Dodds wondered. That’s not technically possible. A part of him was intrigued, but another part of him was feeling a little uneasy. The three-dimensional image of the ATAF was continuing its idle rotation on the screen behind Mansun and he couldn’t help but feel that he was looking at something that shouldn’t be.
Perhaps even something that shouldn’t need to be.
“I thought you might want to know that,” Mansun smiled, “but unfortunately, I can’t provide any more information right now. Let’s just say that we have access to some of the best architects and engineers that the galaxy can currently offer.”
“But we’re talking about a fully operational accelerator?” Andrea pressed.
“Yes, we are,” Mansun said. “This is the very same technology used to create the sustained beam of charged particles found in all other accelerators. It’s not just issuing a load of bottled plasmoids in quick succession. You can expect everything to be the same, even the colouration present, due to the additive elements used during the charge process. However, as mentioned earlier, the throughput of the weapon is significantly lower than that of those found on larger vessels, by a factor of approximately three. I appreciate why you may be having doubts, but such a technological breakthrough is not unprecedented. As a comparison, you must remember that we are also able to travel a distance of many hundreds of light years in the space of only a few hours; something that was once also considered impossible, until you knew the trick.”
“Speaking of which,” Andrea said, “does the ATAF feature any jump capabilities.”
“Jump drives were a feature that we certainly investigated,” Mansun said, “but one that was considered non-essential. Deployment by carrier or lander was deemed to fit our requirements. So, sadly not. Maybe next generation.”
“Well, that aside, I have to say that I’m very impressed,” Andrea beamed. “You and your engineers have done an absolutely incredible job.”
“Thank you,” Mansun said.
“And may I just add, on behalf of myself and my team, that it will be an honour to evaluate the Advanced Tactical Assault Fighter for the benefit of the navy,” she said with another radiant smile, one that was now mimicked by her team-mates. “Thank you for giving us this opportunity.”
Mansun gave a small chuckle, but didn’t answer. The project leader clasped at the back of his neck with one hand and turned in the direction of the still-seated Parks. He was clearly a little embarrassed and was attempting to avoid eye contact.
Dodds looked over at Andrea as she settled back down into her seat. He found her quite striking, with sharp features and smooth pale skin. Even now, she continued to wear that very attractive smile. She turned her head briefly in his direction once again. Was the smile directed at him, he wondered? He then noticed that Estelle was attempting to conceal a scowl. Andrea Kennedy. The name was familiar. Had she and Estelle once been friends?
Mansun gave a cough and collected himself. “Any other questions?” he said. “If not, then I will wrap up this portion of the presentation and move on to the program for the next three weeks.”
A few more hands went up from all three teams, with various questions aimed at elaborating more on various aspects of the starfighter. After answering a good number, Mansun decided it was best that they press on, lest they spend the remainder of the afternoon stuck in the lecture hall.
“I’m sure any other questions that you may have will be answered once the training begins, tomorrow morning,” he concluded, before beginning to detail the schedule for the following days’ training and eventual graded evaluations.
*
Leaving the theatre, herded once more by Estelle in her eagerness to return to the simulation suite, Dodds was left with one question that he had refrained from asking. It seemed to him that the Confederation was preparing to push the bounds of military force and technology in ways that hadn’t been heard of in centuries, and never, to his knowledge, in peacetime.
Dodds’ question was why?
But that, he reluctantly admitted, was most likely a question to which he wouldn’t be getting an answer any time soon.
V
— The One That Got Away —
At the edge of Imperial space, ISS agent Natalia Grace struggled her way down the corridors and passageways of the stricken Bondsman, doing her best to avoid the fires that continued to erupt all around her. Twice, the flames had forced her to rethink her route to the escape pods. On one occasion, she’d been forced to just go straight through. No easy task when you were dragging a barely conscious, wounded man along with you. The smoke was starting to thicken now, making it difficult to see and breathe, and she knew that if she didn’t speed up it wouldn’t be long before she succumbed to fume inhalation.
It had been difficult going to say the least, an
d to make matters worse her companion had fought against her throughout the journey. He had attempted to shake her off, shouting at her to leave him and escape while she still could. His clothes were bloodied, ripped and burnt in several places, the flesh beneath raw and charred.
But now, at long last, she had made it to the escape pods. The ship that burned around her wasn’t a large vessel, and there were only a handful of pods to serve the crew. Here, there were only two. Both remained, none of the other crew seemingly having made it this far. Judging by the numerous bodies she had encountered along the way, it appeared that she and the ship’s navigator were the only two crew members left alive. If that was the case, then it was more vital than ever that she made it off the ship alive. She lowered the navigator to the floor and started over to the pods. All she had to do now was get them both inside and they would be home free.
The ship gave a sudden, violent lurch, knocking her off her feet. She struggled to stand as it continued to vibrate and shudder, noticing that it had become easier to move her limbs. For a moment, she felt herself become light, and slight jolt lifted her a few inches off the floor, before she suddenly dropped back down. The weight fluctuations continued, making it difficult for her to keep her balance.
“What now?” she said to herself.
“… the gravity’s failing, … because the sh … ship’s coming … apart,” came the voice of the navigator from behind her.
Seeing him more attentive than before, Natalia hurried back to his side and hauled him over a bulkhead, helping him up into a sitting position. His breathing was heavy and rattling.
“… you’ve gotta get into … one of … those, quickly,” he said, gasping and indicating the escape pods.
“I know,” Natalia said, “come on.” She tried to help him stand, but he cried out in pain, pushing her away. “Please!” she begged, “you have to get up!”
The Battle for the Solar System (Complete Trilogy) Page 8
