The Fifth Reich: Knight Squadron - Ambush: Book One

by J Palliser

  Aiden finally made it to the quarters that he kept on base, more by habit than by conscious effort. He opened the door and walked in, letting it close automatically behind him with a swoosh of well-oiled hydraulics.

  He crossed the smallish room, stripping off his flight-suit as he went and tossed it over a chair. Reaching his one transparent, tinted window, he dialed down the opacity until he was in semi-darkness, then headed straight for his bunk. He knew he should clean up a bit and get something to eat since it was only around mid-day, but all he wanted was to sleep—to sleep and to be alone. He fell face-first into his bunk, and his thoughts began to fade away.

  But one word echoed in his consciousness even as sleep overtook him.

  Alone...

  3

  II

  Aiden had just finally fallen into a restful sleep when he was awakened by a knock at the door to his quarters. He turned over and put his pillow over his head in hopes whoever it was would just go away.

  There was another knock, more insistent this time. He removed the pillow from his face and a growl started deep in his throat. "Whoever you are, go away. I have a gun and I'll fuckin' shoot your ass!" he shouted in the direction of the door.

  The only answer he received was another knock.

  "All right, you asked for it." Aiden rolled out of bed, padded over to the door and punched the unlock sequence into the panel. The door slid open and he squinted at the sudden brightness. He looked out through slitted eyes into the corridor.

  There was no one there.

  Before he could look further out into the hall, a body flew around the corner and tackled him at the waist. He fell back, twisting so that he wouldn't be crushed under the weight of the assailant. He actually managed to twist further than he thought he could and landed square on the man in the grey flight-suit, straddling his stomach.

  There was a whoof as air was forced from his attacker when he was sandwiched between Aiden and the floor. Aiden drew his right arm back to strike out at the man, but it was held in midair in a strong grip. He turned and looked into the downcast face of Hanson John.

  Hanson was shaking his head. "Fenn, I told you this was a bad idea. But when did you ever listen to me?"

  Jarro Fenn coughed, trying to catch his breath. With little success as Aiden was still sitting on his stomach. "Yeah, but you... should have seen... the look... on his face. It was worth it." He tried to laugh, but it came out a half cough, half wheeze.

  Aiden rolled off Jarro's stomach and lay on his back on the floor, his legs bent at the knees. He took a couple of deep breaths, letting the adrenaline fade from his system. As Hanson entered the room fully, the door slid shut behind him, leaving the three pilots in shadows.

  "Now I remember why leaving the Knights seemed like such a good idea: to get away from you two asshat lunatics."

  Jarro sat up, rubbing at his belly with his left hand and straightening the front of his flight-suit with his right. "Ah, but we're no longer with the Knights, Boss, so now you'll have no idea what direction I'll come at you from."

  Aiden groaned and rolled his eyes, still lying on the floor. "Hanson, give me one reason not to kill him right here."

  "I can't think of one off the top of my head. By the way, why are you in your underwear?"

  Aiden sat up and gave Jarro a rather sharp jab to the stomach, who yowled before doubling over. "Because, until this shit-for-brains attacked me, I was asleep. Unless things have changed since I left the squad, sleeping is still permitted when off duty."

  Jarro clambered to his feet and stood, almost straight, while keeping a safe distance from his former commander. Hanson leaned over and offered Aiden a hand to his feet. "Well, we actually came by to visit you on friendly terms, despite this child's actions. We wanted to know if you and Ares could come to dinner with us tonight. We're only on Daraa for three days and..."

  "Fenn wanted to annoy me for as long as possible?"

  Jarro gave Aiden a look of mock surprise. "What, me? Why, you have insulted my honor, sir. I insist on a dual. Pistols at dawn!"

  Aiden sighed. He kept a look of frustration on his face, a look that he had perfected while serving with Jarro on and off for nearly a decade. But deep down he had to smile to himself and admit that he'd missed these two.

  Jarro and Hanson left the Knights not long after Aiden in order to accept assignments as instructors, training their own squadrons. They had done this kind of work before and hadn't really liked it. Aiden often wondered if they would have accepted their new teaching positions if he had remained with the squadron.

  He reached into his closet for his robe. "Not tonight, Hanson. I'm not good company, and I ship out to Thula early tomorrow morning. But maybe I can catch up with you guys some other time?"

  "The Reich's Propaganda Ministry parading you around again, Boss?" Jarro asked, a huge grin spreading over his boyish face. "What a tough life you lead. Dinner parties, beautiful ladies, parades in your honor. You know, they should really give that kind of duty to a more handsome, a more heroic pilot."

  "They would have Fenn, but Ares said no."

  Jarro clutched at his chest as if he had just been shot with a pistol. "Oh, I sure have missed you, Aiden. No one can vape my ego like you can."

  Aiden sighed again. "Actually, I don't know if you'll be able to grasp this concept Fenn, but I'm going to Thula to work."

  The Major tapped two fingers against his chin and looked deep in thought. "I seem to recall hearing that word before, but I can't remember what it means." Hanson cuffed him over the back of the head. "Ow! Why does everyone keep hitting me?"

  "Because you deserve it," Hanson replied before he returned his attention to Aiden. "Come on—come to dinner with us, even if it's just to keep me from killing this ingrate."

  "No, I just want some peace and quiet today. Trust me, you don't want to be around me at the moment. You can ask Ares, though. I'm sure he'll go once he's off duty."

  Jarro and Hanson exchanged glances and Aiden knew instantly that they were up to something. Jarro looked more than a little disappointed. Looks like I just spoiled their fun.

  Hanson was the first to break the silence. "Is everything all right, Boss? I thought you would be happy as a coyote in a hen house being back with the squadron."

  "I am. I really am happy to be back. I just need some sleep." As if to emphasize the point, he stretched and yawned. "I would thank you guys for coming by, but I'm afraid Fenn would think he was welcome."

  "Ouch. I can take a hint. We're going." Fenn moved towards the door then turned to Aiden again. "But the four of us will get together soon, okay?"

  "Yeah," Aiden said with a nod.

  "All right, then. See ya, Boss."

  Aiden reached out and stopped Jarro before he could leave. "You're in command of your own training squadron and thirty assorted pilots. Why do you insist on still calling me Boss?"

  He seemed to give that some thought before answering, and Jarro thought for minute that he might be serious. "Well, to be perfectly honest, I can never remember your name."

  Aiden took another swipe at him and missed. Jarro tapped a button on the console and, with a grin as wide as an Valkyrie, was out the door.

  Hanson clapped Aiden on the shoulder, and gave him a half smile. "I have to live with that, you know." He turned and was gone as well.

  When the door closed behind them, Aiden was again alone in the dark. He removed his robe, walked over to the foot of his bunk and crawled up it. The sheets were cold again, but he didn't care. He got comfy and relaxed, even though he could still feel a slight ache in his left hip where Jarro had tackled him.

  Despite himself, he smiled. The smile faded as he drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  Jarro and Hanson walked away from Aiden's quarters in silence, Jarro still rubbing his belly. They reached a large plaza a couple of levels down and one building over. Hanson led Jarro to a free bench next to a potted plant.

  "Well, that plan just went nova i
n our faces," Jarro said, running a hand through his disheveled brown hair.

  Hanson sighed, something he did often when Jarro was around. "Well, what did you expect? Fenn, you tackled him to the ground! You're lucky that he was sleeping. If he'd been in uniform he could have pulled his pistol before I ever would have had the chance to stop him. And then what kind of birthday would he have? He'd have spent the rest of the day filling out reports on why he killed a junior officer in his own quarters. Although the words justifiable homicide do come to mind."

  Jarro frowned, but it did nothing to age his features. He leaned his elbows on his knees and cupped his face in his hands. "So what are we going to do now? We have a surprise party all set and no Birthday boy."

  "It's time we moved to stronger tactics and rolled out the heavy cannons," Hanson replied.

  Jarro's head came up. "What, you want Otto to go in with his gleaming katana and threaten Aiden into coming to dinner?"

  Hanson rolled his light blue eyes. "A little obvious. I was thinking of something a bit more subtle. Something that even Aiden can't resist."

  "Money?"

  "Fenn, you're a juvenile delinquent shit-brain. How did you ever make it to Major?"

  "My charm and good looks, of course. How did you do it?" He smiled and Hanson, not for the first time, came close to killing him.

  Hanson spoke very slowly, trying to clue Jarro in to his plan. "I was thinking of employing someone from the Waffen-SS to talk him into it."

  "I don't think Aiden would appreciate it if we sent someone in to torture him so he would come to his own..." His voice trailed off as he finally realized what Hanson was getting at. "Oh. Oh! Now I get it."

  "We need to make a call," Hanson said, pulling out his comm.

  ***

  Aiden could have sworn that he heard someone knocking at his door again. He dismissed it as his imagination and tried to go back to sleep.

  They knocked again.

  "I don't fuckin' believe this!" He glanced at his watch and noted that it had been only about forty minutes since Hanson and Jarro had left.

  There was another knock.

  He stood up, his dark mood getting blacker by the millisecond. He stepped over to his dresser and unholstered his service pistol before heading to the door. He punched in the security code with his right hand and as the door slid open stuck his pistol through the gap with his left.

  Right into the face of Major Ajax Tiara. To her credit, she didn't flinch.

  "Am I disturbing you, Commander?"

  When he thought about it afterwards, he imagined he must have been quite the sight, standing in his doorway in nothing but his shorts, his hair all over the place and a pistol aimed at her head.

  It took him a moment for him to realize that he was just staring at her. It took another moment to recognize that his pistol was still pointed at her face. He lowered it immediately and would have holstered it had he been wearing clothes. "Major. I'm sorry. I thought you were Fenn. Of course you're not disturbing me. I... uh... Just wait one minute. Don't... uh... don't go anywhere."

  She smiled at him and stepped back further into the hallway as the door closed.

  Hunt, you're an idiot!

  He ripped open his closet and grabbed the first article of clothing that came to hand. He quickly jumped into the dark gray flight-suit and his right foot caught in the right sleeve, threatening to send him to the floor. He untangled himself and pulled the rest of it on. Mismatched socks were next and then his boots. On his way back to the door he ran a hand through his hair and nearly got it stuck in the tangled mess.

  At the sound of the door, the Major turned to face him, and he felt some of his black mood drain away. Ajax was about the same height as he was. Even under her Waffen-SS uniform, it was obvious that she had an athletic build, and her figure did extremely nice things to the drab green outfit. Her coppery blond hair was worn short, falling to the nape of her neck in a soft tumble of curls. She had wide, stunning green eyes that sparkled under thick lashes.

  She smiled at him and he flashed back to the first time he had seen Ajax. It had been more than a year earlier on the planet Qassar, when she had been in charge of an insertion team sent in to obtain and communicate advance knowledge of the planet before the fleet arrived to attack the Khawarij forces there. A portion of Knight Squadron had been assigned the duty of retrieving the team and escorting them off the planet just after the attack had begun.

  Aiden had been flying the squadron's MATT while Three Flight was roaring overhead in their Valkyries. He remembered landing in the middle of a road just outside the city, waiting for the insertion team to rendezvous with him.

  The team's hover-craft raced towards him, Mercenary hover-bikes hot on their exhaust. Ajax had been last out of their vehicle, covering the backs of the rest of her team as they made their way to the shuttle. They then covered for her as she made a run for it. She had come up the boarding ramp under heavy fire, a MOD4 pulse pistol in her hand, the perfect image of a heroine from a holo-film, at least in Aiden's memory.

  They had gotten off the planet as fast as he could fly and made it back safely to the fleet. En route back to Daraa, they had met again quite by accident in the officer's mess on board ship. She had invited him to eat with her and he'd accepted. In a conversation that had lasted several hours, they had discovered a number of things in common, the least of which was a love of architecture. The two of them had been friends ever since, meeting whenever their schedules would allow. But he was surprised to see her now, especially at the door to his quarters. Most people didn't even know that the squadron had returned to the base.

  "Please come in, Major." He managed to keep his voice formal and military. As she passed by him, he glanced down either side of the corridor to make sure that no one saw her enter a superior officer's quarters.

  "I didn't realize that you may be sleeping at this time of the day. I can come back later if you want." She offered him a cheerful smile and he suddenly realized he didn't want her to leave.

  "Trust me, after the visit I just had from Fenn, I would much rather have you here."

  "From the experiences I've had with Fenn, I can understand that." She moved further into his quarters as the door swooshed closed.

  Aiden raised the level of illumination in the room a bit. He cleared some data-chips off a chair in the corner and quickly tossed his sweaty orange flight-suit into his closet. "Please, have a seat. It's been weeks since I've seen you. How've you been?"

  She settled back into the chair and glanced around the room. "Okay. It's pretty slow at the moment. Not that that's a bad thing, I guess. But you know how it is. Moving around as we do, you don't make many friends outside of the Military. So when I found out you'd be returning to Daraa today, I hoped that maybe we could go out and get something to eat. Catch up on each other, if you know what I mean. Unless you would rather sleep, that is."

  He smiled and sat in the chair opposite her. "I'd like nothing more than to go out for dinner with you, but I'm not sure if you want me there. My mood's thicker than beef jerky today and Fenn's visit, or should I say ambush, didn't help it any." He sighed and used his thumb and forefinger to rub at his eyes.

  She leaned forward a bit, looking at him intently. "Aiden, I don't claim to know you as well as some of your squad-mates, but if you ever want to talk, you know that I'm here for you. You don't have to do the 'Commander stands stoically alone' act for me." She leaned her elbows on her knees to be a little closer to him. "Come on, what's the matter?"