Operation Hellfire (8 page)

"What? If Kratha lives, then so does resistance. It would mean we are not alone."

His expression changed as gunfire lashed the flank of the massive Byotai ship, and with each impact, the ship vibrated violently. Barca stumbled and hit the ground with a thud. Only by pushing out his arms in front did he manage to avoid striking his head on the nearby computer system. He shook his head and tried to regain his senses.

"Ensign!"

The young Byotai crewman looked up and spotted the bloodied and broken body of the Lieutenant. He lay stretched out against the burning display unit, and flames licked about the system before the internal fire suppressors blasted the area with clouds of retardant spray. Barca lifted himself up and reached out to his officer. With a gentle tug, the body rolled from the computer system, leaving a trail of slick blood behind.

"No!"

Barca stepped forward and slipped, only to be caught by Senior Lieutenant Ymerm, the ship's communication officer. Ymerm held a piece of cloth to his face to stem the blood flow from a recently sustained wound.

"Ensign, get the medical kit. We have wounded to attend to."

Barca shook his head.

"Sir, I have information, urgent information on the Imperator."

The ship vibrated violently, and a series of blasts set off fires in the distance. Crew ran about with equipment, at the same time a squad of soldiers deployed at the doors.

"Not now, Ensign. The rebels, they are trying to board us. And we will not let this ship go without a fight. The Empire is gone, and we have little else left to fight for now. Grab your weapons, and prepare for the end."

Barca moved closer and grabbed the officer's arm, much to his stunned surprise.

"You don't understand, Sir. Prince Kratha lives, and he has escaped the battle of Ctenosaura Primus."

Lieutenant Ymerm paused for a second, and then stooped down to Barca's height.

"If this is true, then the Empire remains."

He opened his mouth and let out a long, reptilian hiss.

"Ensign, with me."

The two moved from the computer systems, even while the gunfire continued to crash against the ship. It didn't take long until they reached the group of senior officers. The fully armoured form of the Captain stood upright in the middle. The ancient and angry looking officer continued to bellow orders, but Lieutenant Ymerm caught his attention.

"What is it, Lieutenant? I'm a little busy."

"Captain, we have contact from Prince Kratha. The Royal line is secure, and part of the fleet remains."

The Captain looked stunned.

"You're certain?"

Both looked to Ensign Barca who immediately swallowed nervously.

"Yes, I am certain. The message was sent seven hours ago. It was a distress signal from an unnamed cruiser. It confirms that the Prince and a loyal contingent have escaped battle and are withdrawing."

The ship shuddered, and this time the impact sounded much more serious. A fully armoured soldier ran to the Captain.

"Captain, they are attempting to board us."

The Captain sniggered.

"Good. There was a reason we let them get this close."

His tongue pushed out and ran along his teeth.

"Open hatches and let them in through the first two airlocks, then hit them with our heavy infantry. Let them taste true violence."

As the soldier moved away, the Captain turned his attention to the two Navy officers.

"This changes everything. Get me through to General Makos." His mouth formed a wide grin, "Maybe the war isn't over yet."

He reached out and placed a hand on Ensign Barca's shoulder.

"And if Kratha lives, I know what the boy will want." He took in a long, deep, and thoroughly contented breath, "Vengeance!"

Ensign Barca tried to look confident. But as he stared into the eyes of the Captain, he found little comfort, just the bloodlust that seemed to take over his people when pushed to the brink. He opened his mouth and looked up slightly, doing his best to regulate his temperature and to calm down. The Captain must have misunderstood, because he nodded with pleasure.

"Good. Nothing beats the fire that burns inside the chests of our kin."

He turned away, but not without a last parting shot, one that sent flashes of nerves through the young officer's body.

"To war, Ensign Barca, to war!"

Alliance Armoured Assault Ship 'ANS Relentless'

Nate finished washing his face and then stepped back into the barrack room he shared with the others. He was tired, but a good night's sleep had at least given his body time to recover. A mixture of exercise and diet was slowly building their strength and endurance, and with every passing day, he felt more able to finally do his job on the carrier. Billy was there, and Matilda was busy looking at imagery on her Secpad bracelet.

"Another twelve hours and we'll be in the thick of it," said Nate.

Matilda looked to him and shook her head.

"Yes, Nate, we know. We need to be at the Fighter Control Suite in ninety minutes for combat simulation."

"That's not a problem."

Matilda shook her head and then looked away.

"What is it?" Billy asked.

Nate walked over and joined his friend. Matilda tapped the imagery, and it grew in size to show the squadron layout inside the ship. Coloured outlines where the various spacecraft waited, along with motorised loaders that shifted fuel and ordnance through the hangar decks.

"I don't get it," said Billy.

Matilda sighed and rotated the model around so they could see the layout from above the shape of the ship.

"Corsair and Thunder are being prepared for immediate launch. Mongoose is being fuelled, but our fighters are still on the deck."

"What? We're being benched?"

Cassandra walked by and bumped Nate as she passed. He looked at her, expecting her to say something, but she moved to a rack on the wall to grab some of her gear. Nate stepped after her.

"Cassandra, do we..."

The door made a groaning sound, and all four turned just as the main door swung open, and Ensign Hawkins popped his head inside.

"Are you ready?"

Nate shook his head. He'd been meaning to speak with Cassandra for a day now, yet they never seemed to be alone. Either she was hanging about with the other pilots, or more often than not, Rex would be there.

"Why, what's happening?"

Hawkins grinned.

"There’s some kind of equipment demo in the training hall. Apparently, it's our turn. Message from Commander Higgins is to get there fast. He wants us on the simulators right after."

Matilda's Secpad bracelet buzzed gently, followed shortly by Billy's. Both looked at them and then back to the doorway.

"Just got the message," said Billy.

Next came Nate's bracelet. By the time he'd checked the details the others were well gone. He deactivated the projection and walked out to follow them, pulling the door shut behind him. His mind wandered as he tried to imagine what they might see, and he almost walked straight into the path of a Marine Corps Mules.

"Watch yourself!" yelled a crewman.

Nate scrambled out of the way as the semi-autonomous four-legged machine scuttled past. These machines were generally not used for combat, but to move ammunition and supplies around without risking marines. They were tough devices and capable of carrying two people on stretchers in emergencies. Nate had heard of combat variants, models fitted with extra armour and a single motorised weapon mount. This one looked old and pretty battered, and showed no signs of weapons anywhere near it. A female technician stopped, saluted, and then squinted as she looked at him.

"Ensign Lewis?"

He nodded politely.

"That's me."

The woman smiled, and for a second Nate thought she might even be flirting with him.

"Very impressive bit of flying, Sir. We saw your ramming attack on the monitors. That took some guts."

Her eyes lowered as she looked at him more carefully, and was then gone as quickly as she'd arrived. Nate watched her and the robotic machine move off far into the distance before remembering what he was supposed to be doing.

The training hall, you idiot!

It didn't take long to work his way through the ship, and when he finally made it, he walked into the training hall, his head held high with each step. Since their last mission he'd heard nothing but complements on his successes two days earlier. Before they'd become active pilots, Nate had been a gamer, with few friends outside of his own small group. He was good at one particular thing, and being an elite gamer was not something that garnered friendship and respect in most quarters. Girls in particular had never given him a second thought, and the athletes at school spent more than enough time making fun of him and his lack of physical prowess. Now they were looking at him as one of the crew. Even one of the younger pilots in Corsair Squadron gave him a smile and a friendly greeting. A week ago she would have walked right past him without a word.

I can get used to this. I can definitely get used to this.

Knighthawk Squadron was an old name to many of the older personnel in the fleet, yet Nate and his friends had slipped into the cockpits and taken on the heritage and reputation with little difficulty. The spacecraft were machines they had trained on for hours in simulations over the last few years. Taking command of the powerful weapons was literally the last phase in a long journey from playing games, to becoming a warrior. As far as Nate was concerned, it had been little different to any other day, but not, apparently for them. Something had changed, and Nate could feel it. Pilots and crew from Corsair and Thunder Squadrons kept telling him how impressed they were with the Knighthawks, and by the time he reached the door, he was riding high from their compliments.

All this because I lost my guns and crashed my ship?

He made it three steps inside and then stopped in surprise. Normally, the training space would be busy with marines working with weights, some sparring, and others at the far end using the firing range. Today was different and much busier than usual. Many present were chatting excitedly, even though Nate had no idea what was about to happen. A group of marines, including Sergeant Nál and Lieutenant Heiskell waited at the far end and watched as the pilots shuffled inside.

"Nate!"

There were some members from Thunder and Corsair Squadron, perhaps half of each squadron. He looked into the small crowd of people and found Cassandra and Rex in the middle of the group. Rex was whispering in her ear, and Nate watched a smile forming on her face as she listened. He took another step but could not fail to notice how close Rex's lips were to her cheek.

Together again, are they ever apart?

Before he could dwell on it much further, he saw the figure of Private Martina Valentine. Nate felt his chest feel a little hollow for a second. The veteran marine looked as prominent and commanding as always, and of all the marines in the training hall, she was the only one that caught his eye. Nate focussed on her without thinking, looking at her face, long hair, and upright posture. He'd been fascinated by her ever since they'd first met. She was only a couple of years older than him, yet while he was only a glorified cadet, she was a battle-hardened warrior, and Nate liked that. One of them flew machines and used computers, but the marines were all trained killers, physically tough, and ready to do what needed to be done.

Valentine.

Even her name had a special ring to it that Nate found hard to get out of his mind. He'd wanted to talk to her since they'd first met, but on every time his friends were nearby. And on the very few occasions where he'd found her alone, she'd quickly excused herself. It was becoming awkward to try and find ways to get close to her without coming over as weird or creepy.

"Yeah, she'd not bad. A bit off the bottom shelf, though, isn't she?" Rex asked.

Nate appeared confused.

"What?"

Rex lifted his eyebrows in amusement.

"She's a ranker, a ground pounder. You're an officer now...of sorts. You can set your eyes a little higher."

Nate was sure he then blinked at him, but movement from Valentine brought his attention back to her. She was busy talking to two of her marine comrades when their eyes met. She looked down, as though slightly embarrassed, and then gave him a subtle nod before moving back to her marines. She was everything he could imagine in a woman, smart, strong, and incredibly beautiful. He almost choked as he realised she was looking back at him.

Was that for me?

Nate stopped for a second, but then Private Valentine looked away, and he sighed with a mixture of disappointment and relief. He had little idea what to say to such a woman, and this was perhaps the worst possible place to try to speak.

"Come on, this way," said Rex.

They pushed through the group and reached Billy and the others who were all looking over to a set of four long tables. On top of them a line of weapons rested on a soft cloth to prevent them from sliding about on the flat surface. Sergeant Nál cleared her throat.

"You will be seated for this...presentation."

Nate looked about for a chair, but the others were already lowering themselves to the hard floor. It seemed a little barbaric to use the floor, but with the others doing the same he had little choice. He bent down and felt a slight pang of pain in his legs. He tried not to groan, but still managed to release a noise as he slumped down. A few of the other pilots looked around, saw him, and then looked back.

Great, and now they all think you're some kind of idiot weakling.

Lieutenant Heiskell moved from his position alongside his sergeant and looked out to the assembled pilots. There were at least two-dozen of them, plus a similar number of support crew.

"You're here today because a general order has been given throughout Orion Command, and it applies to every one of you on this ship, and in the fleet. Some of you have been briefed on the mission, so I'll keep it short."

There was silence, but as Nate sat there, he wondered why something so important was being explained inside the training hall and not the briefing room. He began to turn to Cassandra, but Lieutenant Heiskell continued talking.

"The Alliance has given its full backing to the legitimate Byotai colonies and citizens that consider themselves still loyal to Prince Kratha and his government. This message went live six hours ago, and it's spreading fast. As a consequence, an exodus has begun, one that is seeing hundreds of ships trying to escape to our own territory."

He waited for a moment and looked at the audience. None looked particularly surprised, and one or two almost began to clap but were quickly stopped by their comrades. Lieutenant Heiskell appeared amused at what he could see happening, and as he continued, the volume in the hall decreased instantly.

"Loyalists amongst the Byotai will be looking for safe havens along the border, or trying to reach the Prince and his personal military. That is why this fleet, along with all of Orion Command, is going into action once more."

His face broke out into a barely visible smile.

"And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, means we are moving to Alliance space and preparing for the start of this campaign."

The officer licked his lips.

"Now, how does any of this affect you? And what are you all doing in here? Well, that is all down to the Admiral and his plan. You are here for something simple, and something critical."

Nate nodded to himself in agreement with the man.

True. He's not wrong.

"Prince Kratha brought more than just troops and refugees to our ships. He brought a variety of weapons, as well as information on Byotai training and tactics."

Nate was sure he could feel somebody watching him, and as he looked away from the Sergeant, he found Private Valentine. She was staring right back at him, and her expression softened as their eyes met.

"The Byotai tech is very interesting indeed. As you all know, weapon familiarity is critical in battle. Knowing what you are facing will assist in your ability to counter any kind of threat. Each of you has made extensive use of L48 and L52 Alliance weapons, and all of our personnel, from deck hands and cooks through to gunners, marines, and pilots know the difference. An L48 will leave a hole the size of a fist in a target, but the L52 will punch through thicker armour and can put down a hell of a lot of fire."

He smiled as he spoke.

"Well, today you will be introduced to something very different."

He licked his mouth with obvious relish.

"Every member of this fleet is to be fully exposed to the military tradition, training, and equipment of the Byotai Empire. We will be fighting alongside them, but we can also expect to face many more in battle, all courtesy of our new friends."

He nodded as though agreeing with something he'd just told himself.

"Just as each of you has been trained to identify and utilise all Alliance small arms and equipment, you will now learn about these exotic and powerful new weapons, and how to recognise them when the time comes. If push comes to shove, we all need to know how to use them. Each of you is expected to be fully combat-capable, and if you are needed for infantry combat, you will step up and use whatever equipment is to hand. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir!"

The reply was loud and boisterous, made more so by the cramped interior of the training hall. He waited for a few more seconds, and then to their surprise he turned to the right and nodded towards the door. Nothing happened for several seconds, and for a moment Nate thought somebody has messed up. He tried to imagine the trouble they would be in, when in walked the armoured figure of Prince Kratha. Nate hadn't seen him since their violent escape from the Gas Mines. The alien entered the hall with his ever-present companion, General Honorius at his side. The pair kept moving at a slow walking pace until standing alongside the Alliance officers. Once there, the Prince spoke quietly to them before turning to the pilots and crew. Lieutenant Heiskell remained expressionless as he spoke.