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Authors: Michael G. Thomas

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BOOK: Battleship Furiosa
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"They'll do."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

 

Byotai Imperial Battleship
'Furiosa'

Approaching Martos III Rift,
Deadlands

24 December 2472

A pair of Byotai soldiers walked towards
them, and Nate found his eyes drawn to the lavish and ornamental
armour. Like everything on this ship, even the soldiers wore
expensive and over-the-top gear compared to regular soldiers. The
traditional blacks were nowhere to be seen; these soldiers wore the
grey and gold unique to this small contingent. The armour made them
look huge, especially with the embellishments on the chest and
shoulder. As they passed, Nate noticed both were carrying one of
the deadly Sparth cannons that they'd seen Prince Kratha
demonstrating on Relentless.

"Nate!"

He looked to his side and found
Billy beckoning towards the Byotai soldier. Their armour looked
exquisite, and under normal circumstances they might have spent
hours examining them over and over.

"I know.
I've seen them on the ship already."

Aliens were a constant interest
to Billy, especially those in the military. Yet it was their
spacecraft, weaponry, and equipment that really got them
interested. Since the Alliance had expanded into the Orion Nebula,
they had made contact with many alien races, and that exposure had
brought them access to everything from the fearsome thermal bolts
of the Byotai, to the deadly plasma weaponry of the half-bionic
Khreenk.

"Royal Soldiers."

Nate sighed as once more his
friend whispered the obvious to him. He'd been much more subtle as
the two groups had approached, and had already looked over their
gear with interest. There were entire sets of standard issue Byotai
armour and weapons from the Biomech War era in the museums, but
nothing from the Royal units. Even so, the Sparth cannon was an
exceptional piece of equipment and rarely carried by ground units.
From what the Prince had said, it was so heavy that only the
strongest and most experienced would use them, and now he could see
two soldiers, each holding one across their shoulders.

"You know what that is, right?"

The two moved aside as the
soldiers pushed past, completely ignoring the group of pilots. Nate
was surprised at their attitude and spoke quietly, but not too
quietly that they could not have known that he was
displeased.

"Looks like they're too good for us,
don't you think?"

One turned back a fraction and grunted
towards Nate. He looked back, but was unsure what to say. Instead,
it was Valdis that finally stopped and called after them as they
carried on through the passageway.

"Great," said Billy,
"We've done it now."

The words from
Valdis were in the noble dialect spoken by the senior
officers and those from the richer, and more important clans. This
form of language was much older than that used by the common
Byotai, with odd changes in syntax and structure specifically to
make it difficult for the commoners to understand. Billy strained
to listen but couldn't understand a single word.

"They're using their secret language
again."

Nate listened carefully to his
translator, but for some reason it failed to understand anything.
Finally, she stopped, and the soldier bowed down in their
direction, and then turned away. Valdis spotted Nate looking at her
and wiped a few strands of her pale hair from her face.

"He apologizes. Not all of my kin are
completely happy at our mixed operation. They would rather head on
to Makos alone."

Matilda said what all of them were
thinking.

"By all means carry on without us. I'm
sure Prince Kratha would be perfectly content with that."

"True," added Cassandra, "Without
us, your ships would still be burning around the bodies of Kratha.
We expect, and deserve, more respect than this."

She lowered her hands to her side and
thrust out her chest in a petulant manner.

"After all of..."

Valdis interrupted her before she
could go on further and shouted after the soldiers. One looked
back, grunted, and then kept going. Valdis looked a little
surprised at the reaction and did her best to mimic the human way
of shrugging.

"Never mind. It will take time."

They turned back and continued forward,
but Nate found many question springing to mind.

"Valdis. Is it like that with everybody
on the ship?"

They continued to walk as Valdis
considered his question. When she finally answered, they'd already
moved another thirty metres.

"Most are grateful, but among the
Royal units there is still a great deal of bitterness. The Empire
was secure and reliable until this...revolution. Those serving on
the loyal military units doubt everybody else, Byotai and Human
alike."

"I see," said Nate.

They carried on along in the
corridor and finally made it to the end of the massive hangar deck.
From this point they now had a final fleeting view of the deck, and
Nate watched the battered remains of his fighter being pushed aside
by a robotic loader. The damage had seemed heavy when inside the
craft, but from the outside it was clear he'd had a very close
escape. The landing on the battleship had caused additional damage
to the exterior, and he very much doubted the technicians would be
able to fix her in time for their next mission.

"Why so glum?"

As usual, Billy's demeanour was
bright and cheerful, much more so than it should have been under
the circumstances. When all around appeared to be falling apart,
Billy always seemed able to concentrate on the smaller things that
were right to hand. Nate and Matilda, and perhaps Cassandra to a
lesser extent, tended to over think things. As Nate listened to his
friend, he wished he were able to switch things off so
easily.

"My fighter, she's not looking so good,
is she?"

Matilda shook her head and
answered for Billy. Her voice lacked any kind of emotion and came
across as cold and calculating. There was a reason why she had so
few friends outside of their small group.

"Your fighter has sustained a lot of
damage, and your landing made it worse."

Had Nate not known her so well,
he might have been offended.

"Yeah, not the best landing,
dude," laughed Ensign Fletcher.

Nate looked at him and shook his
head. The pilot was tall and thin as a rake. Of all the pilots in
their unit, he was the one they'd had the least contact with.
Whenever the group were meeting for a chat or eating, he seemed to
be somewhere else. Nate suspected he was often speaking with crew,
technicians, and visitors to ships where he was known to be able to
obtain all kinds of items.

"Thanks for that...Spiv."

He looked surprised, but when Cassandra
started to laugh the mood soon changed.

"So...you got my nickname from who,
Hawkins?"

Nate shook his head.

"No,
the brothers told us about you. Apparently, you're the guy
that can get things done back on Relentless."

Fletcher nodded repeatedly, clearly
pleased with the recognition. He feigned rubbing his hands together
with glee.

"There's always something people need.
Chocolate, time on the network cortex..."

He looked to Cassandra and gave her a
wolfish grin.

"...S
pecial clothing for the..."

Cassandra grabbed his right arm,
locked it, and then forced him to one knee. She was so slight that
Nate choked with surprise. It was a good lock, and Fletcher was
soon yelling for her to stop.

"Take your games somewhere else,
Ensign. We've got work to do."

She then released her grip and looked
to Nate.

"Remember your call sign
suggestion?"

Nate continued to nod.

"Maybe it's time we revisited it,
especially if we're going to keep hopping between squadrons like
this."

Both of them turned to Fletcher.

"And let me guess, Fletcher gets to go
first?"

He placed his right forefinger on
his chest and then feigned embarrassment.

"What, me?"

"Yeah. Spiv."

Anybody else might have been
offended, but not him. Since they'd known him, he'd gone out of his
way to maintain his wheeler-dealer persona. This suggestion seemed
to excite him more than anything else so far. It was not the first
time he'd heard the name, and some of his comrades already used it
as a shorthand, and also to avoid using his name when discussing
topics of questionable legality. Nate laughed a little as he
repeated what Cassandra had just said.

"Ensign Neil 'Spiv' Fletcher, it suits
you."

The Ensign's grin spread across his
face.

"I can't argue with that. What about
you two? Isn't it customary to offer up names for others, instead
of choosing them?"

Nate shrugged and then looked to
Cassandra.

"In the Star Crusader simulator, Ensign
Hurley is known for complex flying, better than some of the most
experienced pilots."

The other pilots stopped and
moved around the group, listening intently. Each regaled some event
in the past, but Billy found the story that caught their interest
the most.

"Okay, so back in one of our
early training missions, Hurley was lead fighter. Our formation got
broken up by the competition, and we were getting taken apart, me,
Nate, the lot. Rex took a missile, and it ended with just her on
her own."

Valdis appeared enthused by the
story and pushed so close that Billy thought she was trying to push
him away.

"What happened? Did you win?"

"Oh, we didn't win," added
Matilda,
"We lost, just like Cassandra
did. But not before..."

"Hey!"

Billy lifted his hands to stop her
speaking.

"Let me finish."

Matilda nodded and stopped as
requested. Billy lifted his hands and moved them as though one was
chasing the other.

"Cassandra was pulling all kinds
of spins and rolls, but there were too many of them. Finally, the
instructor stepped in and brought his fighter right up behind her
and opened fire."

Valdis looked disappointed.

"And?"

"Oh, it's coming."

His hands moved closer, and then
with the left hand he opened it like a flower, while explaining
loudly. Several of them, Valdis included, stumbled back.

"What happened?"

Billy laughed.

"So, the instructor came close
and fired a burst before positioning himself fifty metres back and
in her blind spot."

Cassandra shook her head now, but
Nate could see it was lightly concealed embarrassment. She was
actually enjoying the attention, and unlike the Byotai, Nate knew
what had happened because he'd been there.

"This insane pilot activated her
countermeasures and dumped a pattern of fifteen flares, one of
which sucked right into the coolant intake of the instructor's
fighter. It set off a chain reaction that blew the engine, and the
fighter with it."

Valdis burst out in a roar of
laughter that sounded more like a battle cry. Upon seeing their
surprise, she lowered the volume and leaned in close.

"What happened next?"

This time Cassandra continued the
story.

"Not a lot. Two of them hit me with
gunfire, and then I think a ship-killer missile finished me off.
"

Her face broke out into a smile.

"But the instructor had one hell
of a surprise. I received a major reprimand after that fight, but
it was worth it."

Valdis seemed confused.

"How so?"

Cassandra beamed back at her.

"Because this instructor had been
riding us hard all week. Remember that?"

Nate, Matilda, and Billy all
nodded in agreement. Matilda especially seemed to be quite
animated.

"He was a nasty piece of work.
Some of the tech was brand new to us, yet he expected perfect
results every time, but only from us. The regular pilots being put
against us were given plenty of opportunities to
practice."

Nate rubbed his chin as he
listened.

"And after all of that, when we'd
practiced enough, we took on his favourite in a sixteen-fighter
furball. And what was the final score?"

"Zero
loss win for us," said Billy.

"Damned right, it was a zero
loss," agreed Cassandra, "And even then, after a perfect score,
what did the instructor have to say to us afterwards?"

They each paused, but as usual,
Matilda had the answer. Either it had stuck in her memory after all
these months, but much more likely was the fact that her memory was
infinitely better organised than any of them.

"He said that we took too long, and
that in a real fight the other pilots would have been able to find
other ways to win."

Valdis sighed with frustration as she
listened.

"I see. We have similar instructors in
the Imperial Military. Officers who expect impossible results, and
then punish you when you fail to achieve them."

She nodded back into the
corridor, in the direction they had already been
travelling.

"In any case, we must continue. We are
expected within thirty of your minutes."

They started to move, but Valdis
loo
ked back at Cassandra and
snorted.

BOOK: Battleship Furiosa
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