Operation Hellfire (20 page)

Nate spoke up, keen to understand a little more.

"What is involved?"

Prince Kratha looked to the young pilot and smiled.

"Never before has such a young warrior been admitted into the ranks of the Huskarl. I simply place my hands onto your armour and mark them with the sign of friendship between us all."

"Sign?" Private Valentine asked.

The Prince turned his attention to Private Valentine.

"And you. I am dishonoured to say my first instinct was to admire your beauty. But I was wrong, your courage under fire is a far greater thing to admire."

Prince Kratha turned away from them both and started to chant in his own tongue. Two Byotai warriors approached, both of who bore an odd patination to their armour. Between them, they held some kind of ceramic tray. It was an old looking object, partially cracked and pitted with age. As it came closer, Nate could see something dark inside, a kind of liquid.

"Wait...is that..."

"Blood," added Private Valentine.

Prince Kratha lifted a single eyebrow, a mocking gesture he'd recently tried to master.

"It is mainly pigment and oil, but yes, there are a few drops of my own blood in there."

He then licked his mouth.

"This is, after all, a blood ceremony. When we are finished, all four of you will become brothers and sisters, united in blood with each other, and with me. You will be my equals, my companions."

Nate didn't know what to say, so remained silent as the Byotai went about their complex serious of chants and movements. He even shared a couple of amused looks with Private Valentine, and that improved his day more than anything else. After what seemed like an age, the Prince began to move along the group, thanking each of them and then placing his hands on their armour. By the time Prince Kratha reached Nate, his heart was pounding, even tough he was desperate to see what the Prince had done to Valentine's armour.

"If you ever require my time, assistance, or blood, you will find me and ask for my aid. No matter the crisis, and no matter the costs, I will honour the debt that I owe you."

He said the words without a translator and in rhythmic sections that suggested to Nate he was following a form normally used in his own language. It reminded him of something much more closely related to a song, of sorts. The Prince placed his hands palm down into the unit, and then lifted them out, the thick liquid stuck to the flesh like liquefied rubber. He reached to Nate's upper torso and placed the hands on the thin chest plates. To Nate's surprise, he moved them about in an odd fashion for several seconds, and then stepped back to admire his handiwork. Nate couldn’t see much from his position, but he could just about see the glistening dark red.

"And now we will make the seal permanent, my brother."

A second Byotai stepped in front of Nate with a rectangular lamp and proceeded to move it up and down for a good number of seconds. The smell of heated chemicals filled the room, and then it was over as quickly as it had begun. As he stepped back, the lighting began to brighten, and as it intensified, so did the mist begin to clear. Soon the room was almost completely clear, and the four Alliance personnel turned to look at each other. Nate had expected all kinds of strangeness, but each appeared to bear little more than a darkened patch on their chest plates, albeit one tinged with swirling patterns.

Lieutenant Heiskell looked to his comrades.

"That's it, then, is it?"

General Honorius congratulated each of them in turn and then extended his arms out to the four.

"Welcome, each of you. All four of you are now a Huskarl of the Imperator. Your fame will be known among our people, wherever you travel."

* * *

Nate walked onto the port side landing deck and along the lines of waiting fighters. As always, there were plenty of crew at work, and providing he kept out of their way, they seemed to show him little interest. The fighters were split between the two massive hangar sections that ran down each flank of the ship, with a series of motorised elevators that could transfer craft between them; as well as load and unload fighters to the central flight deck, and the much smaller upper launch deck. At the far end, pushed into the corner and partially covered up, was the shattered wreck of ANS Mongoose. He paused upon seeing it and managed to completely miss the figure of Billy.

"Nate, what are you doing here?"

He shook his head and looked slightly to the right. There was Cassandra and Billy, with Rex just behind them.

"I...uh, I just wanted to see our birds."

Nate went up and grabbed them both, forgetting for a moment that he still wore his PDS gear from visiting the Prince. To Nate's surprise, both held onto him for a lot longer than expected. As they separated, Billy shook his head with disappointment.

"Sorry about what happened earlier. I just lost it for a minute."

Nate smiled.

"That's okay. I think we all felt shattered after that last operation."

Cassandra put her hand on Billy's arm.

"And now we've both been given the all clear to rejoin the unit. My concussion is cleared up, and we've been put on a drug regime."

Nate's brow tightened.

"Drug regime? Surely you should be getting more rest right now?"

Rex shook his head.

"Normally, you'd be right. The Doc says they'll be fine, in the short term at least."

Billy gave a nervous grin.

"More like they need the beds for the other wounded. It's not like they've put me on the duty roster, anyway. My flying status has been revoked until we get back to base. Apparently, I'm not fit to fly."

Nate feigned surprise, but deep down he was thankful the medical staff hadn't simply sent him back into combat. Nate was no expert, but a breakdown like that was a serious issue, and Billy clearly needed help before putting him back into such a stressful situation. He'd experienced enough stress already and was close to breaking point when he climbed out of the shattered Mauler.

"So, what are you going to do for the next few days?"

Nate might have expected Billy to look despondent, but he actually looked rather pleased with himself.

"Drones."

"What?" exclaimed Nate, "I thought we'd lost them all ages ago."

Billy laughed.

"Well, yes, the combat drones are gone. But Commander Higgins met me in the medlab, plus a few of the other injured pilots. He was looking for volunteers for something a little out of the ordinary."

Nate's interested was piqued.

"What do you mean?"

Billy pointed off into the hangar deck.

"Come with me."

They made their way past the fighters, occasionally stopping to look at the combat markings and insignia. All fighters now bore their squadron's artwork, as well as the names of their pilots and their kill counts. Rex moved away from the group and placed his hands along the nose of a single Lightning Fighter. The insignia was of the black Knighthawk, and underneath it were two rows of kills.

"Six confirmed kills. Not bad for a cadet, huh? Doesn't that make me an ace?"

Nate just smiled and decided not to mention that he'd already surpassed his figure. With him and Hawkins now running the Squadron, his old nemesis had become less significant. Nonetheless, Rex was still a superlative pilot, and there was no reason to dismiss his achievement, apart from the cravings of his own ego.

"Nicely done, Rex. Very nicely done."

Rex was so busy looking at the paintjob on the kill markings he didn't notice the expression on Nate's face.

"Shame they don't count drone kills on your fighter pilot record."

"Not today they don't," agreed Cassandra, "But I bet that will change one day."

Nate looked over to Billy.

"Well, where's this amazing thing you want to show us?"

Billy moved ahead, any sign of his traumatic experience well and truly gone, or perhaps more likely, buried below layers of excitement or medication.

Billy, I think all of us are going to need some help when we're done.

Nate was not stupid and could already tell he was mentally shattered by the things he'd seen so far. For now he could push on, but only for a few more weeks.

I don't know how they managed this for an entire war. I'd go insane.

On they went, passing the many fighters until finally reaching the gunships. Billy stopped at the first one.

"This is the plan."

Nate walked up to the spacecraft and concentrated his attention on the nose. It was damaged, almost to the level of Mongoose. Cables hung out from a dozen holes and ran back along the hull before vanishing underneath. To the uninitiated, it looked as though the spacecraft had been taken over by some kind of intelligent machine, but Nate could see that part of a combat drone had been slaved into the command controls of the spacecraft.

"You're kidding, right? They are giving you a Bullnose Gunship to fly under drone conditions?"

Billy's mouth lifted into a barely concealed laugh.

"Hell, yes."

Billy walked around the front of the spacecraft and pointed out the various parts of the bulbous nose. It was a standard gunship by all account, but the signs of damage were severe. Nate even flinched upon seeing a line of bullet holes running from top to bottom, in front of where the pilots would have been sitting.

"She took too much damage when we rescued Kratha. Her weapons have been stripped, and all the life support has gone as well. Her flight controls and engines are like new, though, and Commander Higgins has been ordered to get every bird in the air that he can. That means all fighters, gunships, and shuttles are going to be used."

"So he drags you out of bed to control it. You know you'll never handle her with just one person, right? You'll be defenceless."

"Not so," said Cassandra, "He came to see me, too. Apparently, there aren't enough fighters to go around, so I'm going to be helping him, along with two pilots from Thunder Squadron."

"Incredible," said Nate.

It's not all bad," said Billy, "I've still got authorisation to command the recon drones, and the tech crews have managed to get two patched up using parts from the wrecked fighters."

Cassandra seemed equally pleased.

"Commander Higgins pushed them hard to get her ready for the coming battle. She's even got two turrets working up front and one running topside."

Nate put his foot on one of the side footplates. It allowed him to push up just enough to get a glimpse of the top of the gunship. He could make out the turret, as well as the cabling running into the unit. When he climbed back down, he noticed a large metallic cradle installed in the centre on the hull.

"Uh...what's that?"

Billy smiled.

"That, my friend, is a Marine Corps implosion bomb. They finished installing it an hour ago."

Nate looked confused.

"Why?"

Billy sighed.

"It's a drone gunship, but with this inside, she's more like a cruise missile. Point it at a target and then ram the gunship down their throat. They'll not forget it."

Nate shook his head.

"How long did it take?" asked a female voice. Nate turned around to see Private Valentine approaching. She walked slowly towards them, her arms hung down low at her sides.

"Uh, the gunship?"

She nodded slowly.

Billy called back in a low shout so they could hear him.

"Five hours so far, and she's apparently ready to go."

The marine walked up to Nate, stopped, and looked at his face carefully.

"You did well out there, you know that, right?"

Nate gave her a short nod in answer.

"Yeah...I think we..."

She leaned forward and kissed him firmly on the mouth, and in plain sight of the other cadets. Rex's eyes opened wide, and Billy simply shook his head in stunned surprise. As Valentine released him, she gave them all a wink.

"Sorry, It was just something I needed to do. Tomorrow might be too late."

As she looked back, Nate was already there, and pulled her towards him with a determination that surprised both her and the others. Only Cassandra watched on with an expressionless look as the two shared a long-anticipated embrace. The moment ended soon after, and the marine left in the direction she'd arrived from, leaving Nate standing there in the open, an astounded expression on his face. Billy jumped down from the gunship and walked up to his friend.

"Well, then?"

Nate appeared confused.

"What was it like?"

Alliance Armoured Assault Ship 'ANS Relentless', Approaching Fiorr Veej Rift

The three ships continued the final phase of their deceleration, as each moved closer to the destination. One by one, they had rotated a full one eighty degrees before reactivating their engines. To the uninitiated, it was a bizarre view as the ships travelled backwards towards the Rift. Those on board were all too familiar with what was happening. In less than an hour, the ships would join the rest of the fleet, and then every single one of them would be called to give battle once more.

At the v of the formation was ANS Relentless, and for the first time in a decade she was suffering trouble with her port engine nacelle. The primary engines were placed directly on her stern, but the secondary nacelles allowed her to manoeuvre more quickly, and more important, increased her overall thrust. The engines pulsed twice and then continued as before. It was a minor fluctuation, but it immediately sent a shudder through the ship, as well as temporarily reduced the breaking thrust, giving the impression she was now travelling marginally faster than the other two ships.

Nate lost his footing as the engine pulsed violently, and he lifted his hands to grab onto the nearest wall. Luckily for him, it was only a minor shudder, but it still caught him by surprise. Once safe he looked back, the other crew in the passage were doing much the same. He brushed himself off, and then walked the last corner and towards the entrance to the pilot's briefing room. Even as he passed on through, he felt every pair of eyes looking at him. Most seemed intrigued by his PDS gear. Though they were an hour from their destination, all of them wore their full Naval equipment, as well as their recently issued personal firearms. The pilots only carried pistols, but Nate still felt odd carrying it around with him. He understood the need, but somehow if felt more dangerous with hundreds of people now carrying arms.

We're pilots, not gunslingers. We've got marines to do that.

Just thinking about the hardened cadre of marines instantly brought his attention back to Valentine, and that moment on the deck. She'd left so quickly, and though he'd tried to contact her since, it appeared all the marines were engaged in a permanent series of drills and training. He walked past the first row, and an officer from Corsair Squadron gave him a nod.

"Well done, Ensign."

Nate wasn't sure what the man was referring to. It could have been his last mission, or the fact he now bore an odd red hue to his armour. Something that, though minor in application, seemed to be noticed and commented on by all that saw it. Nate was thankful it hadn't just been him; else it could have been a problem. So far the briefing room just contained pilots, and it was painfully obvious how few they were. When they'd left Alliance space, they found the ship filled with enough men and women to operate three full squadrons. Now an entire squadron had been withdrawn, and those left looked exhausted.

We're down to what now, two thirds of our pilots?

He scanned the group and gulped, realising there was only a couple from Thunder Squadron, and he suspected they were the ones that would be helping Cassandra and Billy.

Not good.

Nate walked past the first room and towards where his friends waited. Billy was there, and Nate sighed inwardly at finding all nine of the squadron sitting there. Billy had left him a space, and he moved past three others until reaching his spot. No sooner had he lowered his body, when the lights darkened and in walked a group of officers, led by Captain Cornwallis. He walked to the front, stopped, and looked out to the pilots.

"Pilots, today is an auspicious day. This is not our first skirmish with hostile forces, but it will be our first pitched battle. Combat will undoubtedly begin within the hour, and when it starts, I expect nothing but the best from all of you, no matter what they throw at us."

That sent a murmur of surprise through the audience. Rumours had been spreading for most of the day, but only now did they realise quite how dangerous this was going to be. A bright light in front of him slightly blinded the pilots before it settled down to show the region of space near their destination.

"This is the Fiorr Veej Rift. As you know by now, since the arrival of the Star Empire forces in this region, it is our only way out of here, and the same goes for any refugees in this system."

Billy looked to Nate and grinned.

"This is it, Nate."

Nate sighed and looked back at the display.

"We have nearly eighty civilian ships trying to get through it. They are the nearest to the Rift, but also the slowest. Between them are a quarter of a million loyal Byotai soldiers, civilians, and their families. They are fleeing the conflict, and the threat of servitude placed on them if they are captured."

The mention of forced slavery had quite an impact on them. Nate glanced at his own comrades and the uniform look of horror amongst them, on all but Matilda. Nate leaned in closer to her and whispered.

"You okay?"

She turned just a fraction and gave him a subtle nod.

"Of course. I'm waiting for the facts."

Nate leaned back and shook his head. Of all his friends, Matilda could be the strangest. Something of a science prodigy, she lacked many of the most basic skills that all of them now took for granted. She frequently lacked empathy, and bore almost no sense of humour. It often left her looking detached, unemotional, and sometimes even cruel. Those that really understood her knew all of that was little more than superficial. Of them all, she was the best with numbers and could usually outthink even the smartest officers when it came to logistics and strategy. Cassandra noticed his look of confusion towards Matilda and moved close to his ear. Nate could smell something, a hint of cinnamon.

Perfume?

She whispered ever so gently in his opposite ear.

"She's so wasted as a pilot. She should be commanding the squadrons, or in military intelligence. "

Captain Cornwallis stopped for a second as Commander Higgins entered the room. The officer approached Cornwallis and stopped at his flank before whispering in his ear. It didn't take long, but both looked a little flustered. When he looked back at the pilots, it was almost as though he had an apology to make.

"Four of the larger civilian ships have taken damage from the enemy. Long-range gunnery has reduced their top speed, and that means it's going to take them up to four hours to get to the Rift. We cannot leave until all are accounted for."

The map moved sideways and away from the civilian ships and the Rift.

"The surviving six Helion cruisers have established a cordon approximately fifty thousand kilometres from the Rift. There is also a unit of four Alliance destroyers from reserve stocks on Helios Prime."

The ten ships blinked green, and Nate actually found himself feeling more confident. Ten warships was a major force in itself, and that was without what they could all bring to the fight.

We can do this. I know we can.

"Combined with our three ships, plus the rest of those under the command of the Admiral, that will allow us to present a unified front of nineteen Alliance ships and six Helion cruisers."

The model showed the shapes of the two Alliance groups that were now almost at their destination. With a quick movement of his hand, two more shapes appeared.

"And here is the problem."

The first group was not far from the planet, yet the numbers suggested they were travelling relatively slowly.

"This is what remains of the force that the Admiral engaged over Ararrh III. They are mainly civilian ships, requisitioned military vessels, and captured warships. Fifty plus, and they are well motivated."

The next group flashed behind Relentless.

"And this group is a wildcard. A single large battleship sized warship that we are classing a supercarrier. It's of a similar mass to ANS Warlord and leading a formation of five Star Empire ships, and these are unfamiliar to us."

Dotted lines showed their courses, and to everyone's surprise, they had changed in the last few hours. It was common knowledge that the combined forces of the enemy were ignoring any discernible strategy or tactics, and simply focussing on chasing the Alliance ships as they withdrew. This new information suggested a completely different path.

"Both formations of ships are heading for an area thirty thousand kilometres from our cordon."

He paused and then nodded. The imagery vanished and was replaced by a static figure of a full armoured figure in grand armour. The individual was closer in proportion to a human, yet clearly alien.

"In the last fifteen minutes, we've been contact by this individual."

Nate's eyes widened as he examined this new foe. Most of the figure's shape was hidden behind robes and thin armour, yet he carried himself well and looked the part of a leader.

"He claims to be the captain of the supercarrier, as well as commander of the Deadlands Fleet."

The Captain looked at his Secpad to check some of his notes.

"According to Intelligence, this is part of a grand fleet led by the Legate of the Interior. The Legate is a senior commander in the Star Empire military, and as best as we can discern, one of the top three commanders in the Empire below their so-called, Princeps."

His hand lifted and ran across his chin, a gesture that seemed to happen whenever he was giving thought before speaking.

"In this briefing, we will run over unit dispositions for the third and final time. There are some subtle changes, due to the change in the enemy deployment. The basics remain the same, though. Every available ship and fighter is to be called up by the order of Admiral Churchill, and we will hold until every ship makes it out of here in one piece."

The map changed as it scrolled upwards and away from the Rift. It finally reached the Naval facility they had so recently been fighting on board. Next to it was the Rift leading back inside the old Byotai territories, and to all their surprise many ships were moving through.

"This is the problem. In the last hour we've seen a major build up, and we suspect it is the rest of the Deadlands Fleet, perhaps even units led by this Legate, and they are growing in size."

A column on the right of the display showed a list of identified ships, and as the seconds ticked by, so did the length of the list. Some were immediately recognised and tagged by the computer, but many remained as little more than outlines.

"Twenty-two ships have now come through since we left, and more are coming."

He looked away from the imagery and to the audience.

"Alliance frigates are already mining the Rift to Fiorr Veej to make passage slow for any pursuing ships. But the mobilisation in this sector is a sign of things to come. It puts a time limit on our operation here."

One pilot lifted his hand, but the Captain shook his head.

"I know the question, Son, and here it is."

The icons on the map began to move as those new arrivals accelerated away from the station and towards the bottom of the screen at a much higher speed than should have been possible.

"These new arrivals came through the Rift at interstellar travel speeds and are already in their deceleration phase."

Hawkins tapped Nate on the shoulder.

"They aren't coming for the sector. They're coming for us."

He leaned back just as the Captain pointed to the destination point for the new arrivals.

"Clearly, they were already planning on hitting the Fiorr Veej Rift, and Admiral Churchill suspects the plan all along was to trap us and the civilians in this system. If we'd arrived six hours later, they would be able to seize both Rifts, and we would be in serious, and I mean, serious trouble."

Nate's heart began to pound as he realised the gravity of their situation. This was no longer a skirmish, or even a conventional battle. They were outnumbered and operating on a strict timetable. He could feel the stress filling his body and panted involuntarily. Captain Cornwallis heard him, and they shared a look for the briefest of moments.

"We will stay until the mission is complete. And that means we must deal with the enemy's primary fleet in less than an hour. Two hours after that, the first ships of their reserve will arrive, and as best as any of us can tell, they are still sending more through the Rift that will continue to increase their forces until the battle will become untenable."

The audience remained silent, and the Captain knew they understood.

"The Admiral has issued his orders. The fleet will stand and hold back the enemy vanguard, and then as many of their reinforcements as we can, until the civilians leave. This is not a battle we can win. It is merely a battle we must survive."

Billy's breathing changed, and Nate placed a hand on his friend's arm.

"You okay?"

Billy tried to look calm, but Nate could see the nerves were hitting all of them.

"I will begin with the capital ship deployment, then to squadron positions and CAP patrols. First, the destroyers."

As the Captain pointed out the careful position of the ships, Nate caught Matilda’s attention.