Operation Hellfire (10 page)

As before, the audience was entranced by both the words and the actions of the two Byotai. But all Nate could do was watch Private Valentine, and her fascination with the alien leader.

What does she see in him?

Alliance Battleship 'ANS Warlord'

Approaching Eighth Quadrant Fleet Reserve Base

Admiral Churchill waited silently as one by one the ships of the fleet made subtle adjustments to their relative positions. He could see the assortment of vessels, but the Crusader Class ships drew his attention the most. At over three hundred metres they were impressive, and with five of them at his command he should have felt perfectly safe. As always, he was well aware that the battlegroup contained thousands of loyal men and women, citizens and service personnel that he was ultimately responsible for.

The Prince had better be right about this.

Each vessel was travelling at maximum speed, and because of that, they were operating under a strict timetable. All twelve ships of the primary fleet moved towards what many might consider the reverse side of the Rift. He knew that ANS Relentless and her escorts were waiting patiently on the other side, effectively stationary and positioned a safe distance away, just in case. It was an odd way of conducting the mission, and it had been at the suggestion of Captain Galanos to use the side effects of the Rift in this way. He glanced at the counter and noted they had just sixty seconds left to go before they breached the Rift.

This will be a first for the history books.

A light flashed ahead, and his eyes moved immediately to the celestial phenomenon, one that made long-range space travel possible. The Spacebridge was still little more than a dot, but by the time it was visible, they would only be a second or two away. Directly ahead marked the exit of this sector of space, and according to their navigation data and Byotai advisors, it would take them within ten thousand kilometres of the Reserve Base. Their trajectory was such that they would be travelling almost the opposite direction and into a slingshot around Ararrh III, right on top of the enemy ships within an hour of entering the System. It was a sly trick, and by making use of the relative speed difference between the fleet and the planet, he could cheat the time difference.

"The Helions, they should be there and in the thick of it by now," said his XO, Commander Jarvis.

Admiral Churchill looked to him, but his face was cool and expressionless.

"If they were on time, they should have entered the System exactly three hours ago. I wish we had live intel from the station instead of that delayed stuff Kratha has been feeding us."

The Commander looked a little confused.

"Feeding? You think he's withholding intel?"

Admiral Churchill shook his head.

"No, not for a moment. If this mission is going to help anybody, it is him. I just don't like moving in without something a bit more up-to-date."

"We can still send a message through to the station for a system-wide scan."

Admiral Churchill chuckled.

"Too late now. We'll know soon enough. Let's just hope that’s when we arrive. The last signal was corrupted, and I suspect the enemy has taken measures to tamper or intercept data. We cannot give them any idea what we're doing. Don't forget, if any warships are coming into the Ararrh System to cause them trouble, it is likely to be from our side, not further inside the Empire."

The counter now showed forty seconds, and the mood inside the ship began to change. It was all business, but at such a velocity there was no way to avoid entering the Rift, and according to the computers, it was little more than a massive pool of energy floating in space. Churchill had never taken a ship through at such speed, and all he had to go on were the guarantees of his science officers that there was no reason why it wouldn't work.

That's still not a reason why it might just bounce us back in broken shards of metal.

Commander Jarvis could see the tightening of the Admiral's brow.

"It's all out of our hands now, Admiral. It's to the gods to decide."

The Admiral's eyebrows rose in amusement.

"If only that were true!"

He then reached out and tapped the intercom.

"This is the Admiral. All ships prepare yourselves; Phase One of Operation Hellfire is a go."

His eyes shifted to the tactical display and the comprehensive map of the coming battlefield. They were far enough away from the station to be safe, but it was still going to be the closest object out there.

"The military installation should be friendly, but we're still a long way from home. Stay frosty and report anything out of the ordinary. Stay true and keep your wits about you. Good hunting."

He returned the unit to its cradle and then looked to his crew.

"Take us through."

It was a completely unnecessary order. There was absolutely nothing any of them could do now as they made it to within a few seconds of the Rift. Even with a full rotation and their engines on full burn it would do nothing.

"Here goes nothing," said the XO.

As they entered the Rift, in space-time the ships vanished in one part of the galaxy and instantaneously reappeared many light years away. On the other side the Rift flashed with energy, like a violent whirlpool eager to suck in and destroy anything nearby. There were other Rift entrances much further away in the star system, but only one appeared active at that very moment. Lightning crackled around the outer edges, and then one by one came the Orion Battlegroup. Normally, they would appear and enter a system at a very slow manoeuvring speed. Entering at high-velocity introduced many dangerous elements to the situation and could leave ships, stations, or even planets damaged or destroyed.

Not a bad option for a weapon.

Even as they travelled through, he recalled the terrifying weapons used in the Biomech War. Back then the Alliance had dabbled with Rift generating ships. The plan had been simply to create tunnels in space-time for tactical use, but cunning officers had quickly deduced it would be possible to use the same tech to create weapons. By sending objects at high speeds through a Rift entrance, they would then shoot out the other side. All it had taken was engineers to suggest placing a Rift entrance in the path of a moving asteroid, and then placing the exit point directly in front of a warship. The effect was instantaneous and devastating.

Let's hope it doesn't happen to us.

First to arrive was the Admiral's personal flagship, the massive half a kilometre long battleship, ANS Warlord. Dragoon Class frigates clung to her flanks like small fish, eager to stay well inside the protective cordon offered by the powerful vessel. More and more ships entered the System until all twelve were though the Rift and travelling away from the nearby station at incredible speeds.

"This is the place," said Admiral Churchill.

His expression softened, and he sighed as he looked out to the artificial structure that was already receding from view.

"All ships check your course. I want us to reach the waypoint in a tight formation. It's time these so-called revolutionaries were introduced to the Alliance Navy."

He paused and looked at the view of the Rift. It had shrunk so much that it was no more than a dot, a small star that quickly faded to join the others filling every direction. Satisfied that the fleet was in order, he moved his eyes to the tactical display. With each passing second, it filled with new data from the System. What really caught his eye was the vast number of civilian ships caught up in an endless orbit around the planet of Ararrh III, with just as many following the parabolic course to the planet from Ararrh II.

Even though they know they are heading into danger, they have little other choice. Either they stay as slaves to the new Empire, or they fight or flee through the militia forces.

Admiral Churchill shifted the display slightly and nodded to himself upon seeing the formation of twelve Helion warships. They were still quite close together and positioned at a much higher orbit over the planet.

"So, there are our friends from Helios?"

"Admiral, contact from the Helion commander. He reports they are fully engaged with enemy forces. They are outnumbered and request assistance."

At the same time, his chief tactical officer signalled to him.

"Sir. The Helions have tagged multiple enemy vessels, and it appears that most are mixed in with the civilians."

"Excellent, overlay the data on the tactical screen."

Even as the video from the Helions appeared on the main screen, he found his attention drawn to the tagged vessels around the planet. He'd assumed there might be between ten and thirty ships in the area. Nothing had prepared him for this. With each passing second, the colour of the civilian ships changed until almost a third of them showed as hostile.

"That's more than seventy ships."

He rubbed his forehead and turned his attention to the Helion commander, who wore Alliance uniform, just like him. Though of a similar size and build to the humans, they were slightly thinner and paler in complexion, just like their kin, the T'Kari.

"Captain. It's good to hear from you. We're on our way."'

The answer was not words, but a white flash and then a dead video connection.

"What the hell just happened?"

Commander Jarvis pointed to the blinking light in orbit over the planet.

"Looks like multiple militia ships just rammed him."

He looked back to the Admiral.

"This just turned ugly."

Admiral Churchill sighed with frustration.

"Very well."

He rubbed his chin with the back of his left hand, a nervous gesture he had never been able to completely shake off. He then straightened his back and nodded, as though agreeing with something he'd just told himself.

"Send out a general signal on the open channel. It's time everybody in this sector knows who is in charge."

* * *

Alliance Armoured Assault Ship 'ANS Relentless'

Orion Battlegroup, 8th Quadrant, Uncharted Space

Nate waited patiently along with the other eight members of Knighthawk Squadron. Cassandra was absent, and though it was no surprise that she'd been kept off the duty roster, it was still a blow to the already diminished unit. They were not alone, and facing them on the other side of the passage were the members of 1st Squad, with Private Valentine directly ahead of him. Every one of them was dressed in combat gear, though the marines looked much more dangerous. The PDS Alpha armour provided incredible levels of protection for the warriors, and they carried their regulation issue firearms on special sling mounts fitted to their armour. All wore helmets, but their visors were open, revealing their partially covered faces. Nate acknowledged Valentine with a subtle nod, but either she didn't see it or chose to ignore him.

Nice move, idiot.

Nate could have kicked himself. Here they were, waiting for the start of yet another mission, and he was trying to get the attention of Valentine, and right in front of the assembled marines and pilots, no less. His face started to redden, so he looked away just as Valentine finally turned her gaze to him. It was too late and all attention quickly moved to the increasing sound of footsteps coming down to the deck. The portside deck was a hive of activity as the crew prepared the fighters, gunships, and Mauler for the mission. Commander Higgins moved out from where the fighters waited on their launch rails and looked to the pilots.

"Okay, people, you've seen the briefing. Operation Hellfire is going to be a close call, and everybody has their part to play. We'll be entering the Spacebridge in under an hour. Once we get through, it's going to hit the fan."

He licked his lips with relish.

"Knighthawks. Are you ready?"

"Yes, Sir!"

The reply was a chorus, loud and boisterous, and Nate found himself caught up in the excitement. He and Ensign Hawkins had gone over the details for the mission for more than two hours with the other officers, and were now very well acquainted with the dispositions and strategy. All that remained was which pilots would be needed for each phase of the battle. Some would fly escort missions, others launch strikes against capital ships, and then there would be the close-escort for the marines.

"I've just received an updated plan for the operation," said the Commander, "Admiral Churchill and Prince Kratha have made adjustments to the allotted units in the mission."

Nate shared a brief glance with Ensign Hawkins, and both looked nervous.

"While the fleet deals with the ships, we will focus on the station and protecting the boarding parties led by Thunder Squadron."

"Corsair Squadron is taking the lead on the mission this time. They will move in first, deal with any strays, and clear paths for the landing parties. Thunder will be right behind with additional fighter cover, plus Hammerheads and our Mauler."

Several of the group grumbled, and even Hawkins muttered something about the implied insult. Matilda appeared to be the only one not surprised by this.

"What's the problem?" Commander Higgins asked.

He placed his hands on his hips and looked at them intently. He was stern and serious but nothing like the expression often given to them by the officers of the Marine Corps.