Battleship Isis, Briefing room
Tucker entered Isis' briefing room, he was supposed to be new instructor.
"Good morning ladies. I am Lieutanant Mark Tucker Unfortunatelly, Sergeant Miller was wounded during a battle, so for some time I'll be your new flight instructor.Don't get happy so fast.You don't know me yet.I see that you have some hours in simulators...Good. Today we'll try real flying, In space."
Tucker looked at pilots list for a moment
"Cadets Klier, Carver, Constanza and Halverson.You're first to go. Meet me in fighter deck in thirty minutes, That's all for now."
Pilot quarters,
"Hell, Miller was giving us a hard time...How do you think guys, how'll Tucker do?"
"I have no idea. But I we'll find out soon enough..."
Twenty minutes later.
"Well Well, I never thought you'd be here on time...Not bad as for first time. Alright, Your assigned fighters are there.Cya in space."
Toledo Orbit
"Remember first lessons lads. We'll see what Miller taught you while he could...Follow me. We'll do a little trip around Minor. And watch for your wingmen"
Time was passing by as five Nepthys fighters were patrolling Omicron Minor
"Never leave your wingman, you have to trust him...and believe he'll do his job when he's supposed to."
Suddenly, four red dots appeared on Tucker's scanner
"Damnit... This is Lieutenant Tucker to Isis control we've got inbound bandits. We need support here immidiatelly."
"Affirmative that Lieutenant, Patrol is twenty clicks from you, they'll be there in five minutes."
"Got it. Okay nuggets.Return to Isis on full speed."
All five fighters turned around imidiatelly.
"Damn...They're faster than we. Pilots, stick together and get back to base"
Tucker's fighter quickly turned around and moved to meet four Manta fighters..
Isis' Bridge
"What the hell is he doing? He wants to take on all four..."
"And get himself killed..."
Tucker engaged all four Mantas, Missiles and lasers were passing by his ship.First two mantas have been destroyed by a missile. Other two were still there. Third manta turned into scrap when it got hit by a Laser streams.
"Well, That's three down and one to go" He thought.
Tucker heard 'Incoming missile' warning, but it was already too late. Missile exploded right behind his ship, damaging weapon systems and destroying all engines.All he could do was to eject. He did it just a second before his Nepthys was blown to pieces by second missile.
He woke up in a sickbay, two days later.
Deviator Bridge, Deep Space, Sigma 17 system.
Matrim Cauthon rubbed his temples tiredly. The Deviator was running silent in the Sigma-17 system, after a huge setback. They were moving through kusari space when the unexpected happened. Blood Dragons. With hostile intent. It'd taken a fair bit of smooth talking to save the Deviator from a tough patch. Considering they were outnumbered, and the Dragons had rolled out the mythical True Throne to greet them...just like old times.
Morale was not particularly good. The crew was raising questions about the wisdom of the Admirality in picking "allies". Himself, he knew better. The Order should take help where ever it could find it. Even if it was distasteful, or downright difficult. Raising morale was part of his duties as a captain.
The Deviator had to complete it's mission. No doubt about that. But now the task was successfully complicated...
Capital Vessel Raptor, 0800 Hours.
" We're losing atmosphere!Decompression in sections five to twelve!We can't keep getting hit like this!"
"I know dammit! Get cruise engines back online asap!We need to get out of here!"
Two days later.
Battleship Isis, Admiral quarters.
Door opened.A middle aged man came in.
"Take a sit Colonel.How's the arm?"
"Getting better, sir.I can get back to cocpit."
"Glad to hear that.Because I have a new mission for you.One week ago we sent Capital Vessel 'Raptor' to investigate recent Core activity in Omicron Delta.Two days ago, we've lost any contact with them...We're expecting the worst.I am giving you temprorary command over 'Viper'. That's a one of few carriers we have left. You're mission is to get to Raptor's last known location and investigate what happened. Bring back any survivors you can find. Viper has two fighter wings on board,so you won't be there without cover."
"What if we encounter hostiles?"
"That's a search and rescue mission.Don't get into a fight unless it's necessary."
Viper's Bridge, Omicron Minor.
"All systems reporting green sir.We're good to go."
"Fine.Prepare jump drives.Course for Raptor's last known position."
An hour later. Omicron Delta.
"Sir, We have visual contact to Raptor. Ship's hull seems intact, But it's not responding to our hails."
"Oh right.Send SaR teams and Fighters to secure the area."
Nepthyses were departing from Viper's docks one by one.
"SaR One reporting in.Sir, Raptor has a huge hullbreach on the other side.There's no chance anyone could survive this."
Viper's scanner screens started to flash.Three unknown ships were within weapons range.
"Sir, three Threshers just jumped in!They're firing missiles! Prepare for impact!"
Four out of six missiles hitted Viper.The ship wasn't in great condition after recent battle.
"Return fire from all batteries! Load missiles to launchers three to seven! keep those destroyers at range! Charge jump drives.We need to get out of here asap."
"Sir, our cruise and jump drives are offline. It'll take at least fifteen minutes to get them working."
Fighters that were supposed to secure area around wreck have already engaged Thresher's escort despite being greatly outnumbered. They were doing as best as they could, however they couldn't hold fighters and destroyers away from Viper.
"Cruise drives are back online."
"Right in time.Bring our fighters on board. Time to get out of this hell..."
"Viper to all fighters. Return on board. You're cleared for combat landing.I repeat, combat landing is..."
Eight more torpedoes impacted on Viper. One docking bay exploded. The carrer began to break on two parts.The pilots couldn't believe their own eyes.One of few remaining Bastets broke formation and tried desperately to flee. But they were outnumbered and outgunned by Mantas...
The man known only as Vizier Lead walked the Isis's corridors. His real name was now a matter of secrecy, including everything about him. According to general reports, he went MIA a few months ago. Hah. MIA. Since then only a select few knew he existed.
Most removed their flight uniforms upon docking, but he was covered from head to toe in it, including the helmet. His identity couldn't be compromised at any point. Everyone knew he was a Vizier, the full attire was signal enough. He was avoided like he had herpes. Shaking his head, he made arrangements for food, and went to his own quarters.
Viziers were not supposed to be in Minor, except in emergencies. He'd brought a transport loaded with people to Minor, hence his visit. Tomorrow he would be gone. Today he would eat dinner in the seclusion of his room, and stretch out before going in the field again.
Marcus walked through the corridors of the Deviator toward one of several briefing rooms, he and a few of other pilots had been summoned for a briefing by Captain Cauthon himself.
After being notified of his promotion to Lieutenant, Marcus felt quite proud of himself and now that he was an officer, he felt the need to look the part. He walked straighter and tried to give off the sense of importance and urgency. He gave up within five minutes. He was still happy about the promotion. Not for the pay or the small amount of respect that you got as an officer, but simply because he was now technically in a leadership role, which had been a goal of his from a young age, to command a ship of his own.
Marcus stopped at the door and took a moment to straighten his uniform out.
The door opened and Marcus walked through, there were only three other pilots so they were all sat at the front, just chatting quietly, they all stopped and looked up at Marcus, expecting the Captain to walk through at any point. After realising it was just another Lieutenant, they continued talking.
Marcus sat down on the front row with the others, but as he did not know any of them, he didn't really talk to them, just said 'hello' and sat down, patiently waiting for Captain Cauthon to come in.
Appearing almost exactly on the time specified, Captain Cauthon entered and made his way to the front of the room. As soon as he entered the room, Marcus and the others all sat up, braced to attention.
"Relax." He said, as he looked through some of the paperwork that one of his assistants must have put on the desk earlier.
"Ok.. As you all know I am Captain Matrim Cauthon, the CO of this ship. I will also be your primary reporting officer, so I'm going to make some things clear for you now."
Marcus and the other pilots braced up slightly, they had all heard about Captain Cauthon; he was a good, competent Captain but he was firm and difficult to read at some times. He was one officer that no one wanted to get on the bad side of.
He continued speaking.
"First of all, congratulations to you four for reaching the rank of Lieutenant, you would not be here if you hadn't shown the various qualities expected of an officer in The Order. With this rank, you are given more freedom than the more junior ranks, but also more responsibilities, not only for yourselves, but for the personnel under you. Secondly, as your reporting officer, I am responsible for you. Don't screw up. Thirdly, while going through the ridiculous amounts of paper work involved in promoting someone, I noticed a couple of you are behind on your stats. Lieutenants Johnson and Vadi, you both need to clock up four hours of patrol time. You either haven't done the time required or you forgot to submit your patrol reports. Do you have any questions for me?"
No one raised their hand.
"Good. There are some forms for each of you on the desk, in it are the files on each person who will report to you. Have fun."
While the Captain walked toward the door, the Lieutenants all sat up.
"Thank you, relax."
Marcus went and grabbed his file to read back in his room, smiling to himself as he heard Lieutenant Johnson complaining about having to do four hours of patrol.
Matrim Cauthon stood on the bridge of the Deviator, currently floating through a wisp of Kepler's Dark cloud. While there were better uses he could think of a veteran ship like his, the value of a forward base in the junction between Kusari and Liberty could not be understated. There was Ames, of course, but they could not move too many assets there without attracting notice. A lot of it, of the unpleasant kind.
So they were sent. Matrim had made it his business to talk to every officer aboard the Osiris class ship, and after a few weeks of ghosting around, The Deviator was back in it's old rhythm.
He looked at his watch. 04.00 Hours. An ungodly hour to be up at, sure.
Alarm Klaxons started blaring all over the ship.
Cauthon almost ran to the bridge. "What's the status!?" He shouted.
"Shields are down!" One replied.
"Docking hatch two has been blown up, unknown ships are nearing, ETA five minutes captain" another said, more calmly.
"Give me a shipwide comm channel", Cauthon told his communications head. With that done, it was time to throw the dice.
"Captain Cauthon here. Emergency alert, we're being boarded by unknown enemies through Airlock two. Code Alpha. Lieutenants Ward and Leighton, get your men ready and seal adjoining exits two-five and two-four.
Lieutenant Hernandez, take your heavies and plant charges on the inside hatch. Engineering, activate the drones and move them into support positions. Decks adjoining to two will be sealed after you're in. Good luck."
That was it. The ship was not just a ship, it was an amalgamation of living beings that had to work together to survive. They had to work together. Cauthon hoped.
"Get me strategic feed outside hatch two!" he snapped. Inside would be no good, any good marine boarding team carried EMP charges that rendered observation devices useless.
A large holo-screen came up on the bridge.
Hatch two was marked in red, an occupied region. Adjoining hatches were green, still held by The Order. And blue dots were scampering to positions as ordered. The Marine teams were moving into position.
"Visual feed on main door!"
The screen shifted. A massive door was now being shown. Marines in heavy armor were holding positions to the side of it, while one was planting charges along the walls, for maximum effect.
Cauthon nodded sharply.
"Adjoining doors!"
The screen split into two, to cover adjoining exits.
A marine squad was already in position along one exit, makeshift barricades up, EMP charges planted right in front, and all guns pointed.
The other was...empty. Cauthon frowned.
"Leighton! Get the f*** in position now before they kill us all!" He shouted.
A flustered Leighton replied in the affirmative, and soon marines jogged in, covering the second exit. All was in readiness. The enemy would be assaulting their position soon. Now to bid time and wait.
"Visual on main door, good luck everyone" cauthon said.
The main door slid open.
Explosive charges went off along the walls, completely filling the area in smoke and fire. When it cleared it revealed...a single combat drone.
Cauthon sighed.
"That was a drill, men. Well done, and Lieutenant Leighton, I will speak with you later. The rest, back to rest or your positions" He said.
That went well.
There was silence on the bridge of the OCV Hepshetsut, punctuated only by the occasional tapping of keys and the soft whirring of equipment as the bridge staff got on quietly with their tasks. The lights were dimmed and a soft yellow glow emenated from the concealed ceiling lamps, indicating the vessel's alert level.
Colonel Leigh sat in the command chair staring out at the dense grey mass of the East Leeds smog cloud, a frown creasing his aged brow.
"Mac'Callegh," he said, breaking the silence and adressing a red haired woman sitting behind the command and control console in front of him, "he's two hours late now, if we have to wait much longer we're asking to get caught."
"Aye I know it colonel," replied Mac'Callegh, her voice giving away signs of agitation, "he's probably just got problems wit' the squaddies. Ye' know how it is."
"If that's the case then..." the colonel was cut off by a bleeping noise from the tactical console.
"Incoming contact," the tactical officer intoned, "it's a B-27-E Clydesdale."
"Open a channel," said the Colonel to the comms officer.
There was a brief silence as the comms officer established the connection before nodding to the Colonel who nodded back before speaking.
"This is Colonel Leigh aboard the OCV Hepshetsut," he began, "incoming vessel, identify yourself immediately."
There was a tense moment as the comms remained silent until a rolling, thunderous voice came through the static.
"Richard Winston Tobias esquire, at your service Colonel," the voice said, "I do believe you are expecting me."
"You're late Tobias," colonel Leigh replied, breathing a sigh of relief.
"Very sorry about that," came Tobias' voice, "had a little altercation with the customs officer leaving Leeds. But I have the parts young miss Mac'Callegh ordered."
"Good to hear Tobias," said Leigh, "bring them in at the lower docking bay, we'll meet you there."
He closed the channel and turned to the comms officer.
"Send word down to Wallace in engineering, tell him to meet us in the lower docking bay," he said before rising from his chair and walking swiftly off of the bridge with Mac'Callegh in tow...
***
There was a loud griding noise as the small hangar door slid open to reveal the Clydesdale suspended in the airlock. Because of the limited size of the hangar, a handful of spacecraft service crew were huddled under the landing gear of a bastet fighter pushed against the back wall. As the freighter squeezed into the hangar, the blast door to the rest of the ship opened and Colonel Leigh and Commander Mac'Callegh entered. They joined the flight crew under the bastet until the larger ship had touched down. There was a puff of pressurised gasses as the boarding ramp opened and a large bearded man decended and walked over to the small group.
"Ah, Miss Mac'Callegh," he boomed, his voice echoing off the gunmetal walls, "a pleasure to see you again."
"Aye, teh' be sure," she replied sarcasticly, scowling slightly at the man's letcherous smile.
"And you too Colonel Leigh," he said, extending his hand, "although last we met you weren't going by that name were you?"
"Quite right I wasn't Tobias," the Colonel said, taking the man's hand and shaking it fimly, "traveling under your own name when you're a wanted terrorist in all four houses doesn't come highly recommended."
"Quite true," Tobias Laughed, "you Order lot have it pretty hard out here."
"You could have it just as hard if the BIS got wind of this little delivery," said the Colonel, "we appreciate it that's for sure. You're one of the few friends we've got left in Bretonia."
"Well I can't be doing this often you undertand," replied Tobias as he flipped a button on a controller to lower the cargo ramp, "as it is the fools at customs were asking too many questions, what with this whole war business and all."
The deck crew began to unpack crates from the Clydesdale as the blast door opened again and a young man in an engineers overalls walked in and went straight to inspecting the contents of the crates.
"Wallace, will these parts do the job?" Leigh shouted over to the engineer.
"Yeah, the Bastet in the upper hanger will fit most of these parts and the stuff it doesn't can be retrofitted easily enough," the young man replied, "should hold us over for a couple of months until we resupply in Minor."
"Good to hear," said Leigh, taking a wad of credit chips out of his pocket, "how much do we owe you Tobias?"
"That'll be three million credits my good man. Those military grade parts are hard to come by."
The colonel handed over the credits and shook Tobias' hand once again.
"I won't hold you any longer then," said Leigh.
"Very well Colonel, I'll be going before the Armed Forces figure out where those parts were going."
Tobias mounted the boarding ramp once again and waved.
"And it was nice seeing you again Mary, it really was," he shouted to Mac'Callegh as he winked suggestively.
"Feck off back teh' Leeds ye' letcherous old eegit!" she shouted back, giving a one fingered salute as Tobias entered his craft, bellowing with laughter...
Colonel Leigh drew his sidearm and ducked behind a console as the Hepshetsut's proximity sensors went crazy. Liberty Navy boarding craft were docked at every airlock, and despite the best efforts of the crew, they had overwhelmed the ships defences. Now they had reports that the last marine team holding the bridge access had been overwhelmed and that LSF and Navy marines would be on them in mere minutes.
"Hold steady and keep down!" he shouted to the bridge crew, who had all drawn their sidearms, "they'll lead with stun grenades and come in hard!"
Before they could reply, there was the sound of weapons impacts on the sealed bridge door. It opened and a single black armoured marine stumbled in. His chestplate bore several weapons scars and his helmet was blown open on one side, blood streaming down his face. He quickly sealed and locked the door before turning to the bridge crew.
"That won't hold them long," he rasped as he struggled to get behind cover and level his weapon, "they have breaching charges."
Sure enough, there was a clamping noise as what could only be a breaching charge was slammed onto the other side of the door.
"Get down!" shouted the Colonel as it exploded, scything shrapnel across the bridge.
There was a rattle as a bundle of stun grenades rolled across the deck followed by a deafening bang and a flash.
Hauling himself out of cover in time to see several heavily armoured LSF marines pouring through the doorway firing indiscriminately, he double tapped one in the chest with his pistol before turning on a second, sending them both sprawling from the impacts but doing little real damage through their armour. Suddenly he was spun round from a hit to his shoulder and jolting pain shot through his body. He fell to the floor, clutching the wound. From his prone postion, he watched as the last marine emtied his weapon at close range into one of their attackers, chewing through the mans armour until blood splattered to the floor. The colonel turned to the other side to see his first officer Mac'Callegh on the floor, bleeding from a leg wound. As one of the LSF men passed her, she pressed her sidearm into the back of his knee and pulled the trigger, dropping him to the floor. Extending his sidearm, Leigh shot the man in the head, pitching him over sideways as another of the LSF marines kicked Mac'Callegh viciously in the head. Turning back to the other side, Leigh watched helplessly as the black armoured Order marine was shot through the head by an LSF officer as he tried to reload his weapon. Leigh tried to turn his gun on the officer but when he pulled the trigger, the weapon failed to fire. Dropping it, he lay back as one of the LSF stepped over him.
"This is delta team," the man said into his comm bead, "the bridge is secure. Four prisoners, two friendly casualties."
"Another drink, sir?"
Marcus looked up at the bartender, he was a burly man who also bore the rank of Corporal, probably working in the bar as a secondary duty, or a punishment. Marcus thought it best not to ask.
"Yeah... You got anything that doesn't taste like piss?"
The corporal looked under the counter and produced a bottle of wine and showed it to Marcus.
"Wine? Do I look like a woman?"
The corporal sighed and went down under the counter, replacing the wine with a bottle of whiskey.
"That'll do."
The corporal poured it into a cup and handed it to Marcus before going off to serve a mechanic.
Normally it'd be a bit weird to see an officer drinking in the "All Ranks Bar" as they served alcohol in the Officer's Mess, but Marcus preferred the company of the lower ranks, even if he wasn't actually speaking to any of them. To avoid any strange looks, he took off all rank insignia so to most people, he'd just appear to be a regular crewman. He still got the occasional glance when someone recognised him; usually one of the mechanics who fixed the many holes in his ship or a medic that stitched him back up.
Marcus didn't drink often, nor did he hang around in bars or any of the other recreational areas, but every now and then he would need to go and relieve stress.
Just before he finished his drink, he felt the presence of someone standing behind him, not liking the feeling of someone watching him, he stood up and turned around to face the person.
He was a sergeant, fairly young, a bit fat and for some reason, looking Marcus up and down.
"Can I help you?"
The sergeant's face scrunched up slightly.
"Can I help you. Sergeant."
"Excuse me?"
"Address me by my rank, crewman."
Marcus looked at him, not sure whether to laugh or punch him in the face. He knew exactly the type of person he was speaking to. Someone who just got promoted and wanted to show off his rank, or someone who just liked picking on people using his rank as a shield.
"We're in a bar, have a drink and calm the hell down." Marcus said calmly.
"... Calm the hell down? Crewman, do you not show respect for your superiors?"
Marcus sighed.
"Two things, respect is earned, not demanded and you are not superior to me. Carry this on any further and you'll be waking up in the infirmary."
"How dare you spe--" Was as far as the sergeant got before Marcus brought his knee up into the sergeants delicate bits.
Everyone in the bar was looking and a few of the guys held their privates, feeling the pain of what they just saw.
Marcus himself even felt bad about what he just did, but he had been in enough combat situations to know that the only thing that matters in a fight is removing the threat. Doesn't matter how.
Two crewmen and a corporal from a nearby table all stood up, one of the crewmen went to check on the downed sergeant, while the other two confronted Marcus.
Marcus took a few seconds to scan his immediate area, he grabbed his glass of whiskey and threw the remainder of the whiskey into the corporals face, effectively blinding him so that he couldn't see Marcus raise his foot and kick him square in the abdomen, sending him flying two metres backward into an empty table. Marcus then turned toward the crewman who was looking a little worried now.
Before he could punch the crewman in the throat, Marcus got launched sideways as he got tackled by what appeared to be a giant.
*****
Marcus was standing in the office of the Guard Commander while the Corporal behind the desk was reading the report. Normally a corporal wouldn't really have any power over an officer, but the title of Guard Commander basically allows them to do whatever they feel is necessary to protect the ship and the crew, answerable only to the CO of the ship or station.
"Lieutenant Ward. Care to explain why you felt the need to break a table and take out two rankers?"
"The table was probably more valuable than those two clowns." Marcus said, half smiling.
The guard commander made no attempt to conceal a chuckle.
"Yeah, you're pretty much right, sir. Sergeant Alsopp is well known for throwing his rank around. It didn't occur to anyone to knee him in the balls, though."
"Do I get a medal for my initiative?"
"Not quite, sir... Now, all jokes aside, you assaulted two agents and you were well on your way to throat punching the third before Andy tackled you. Now, that's almost always a demotion followed by administrative action; probably a pay freeze or leave ban. But it's your lucky day. One of the doctors on Toledo, a Major Nolan has pulled some strings with the station CO."
Marcus was genuinely surprised.
"I'm off free?"
"More or less, you have to attend therapy sessions twice a week and you're not allowed to drink on this station."
"... How long for?"
"The therapy? Until you're sane, I guess. The drinking ban is definite... Sucks to be you, sir."
"I'll live."
The headset buzzed to life and Marcus could hear the Chief Technician's voice.
"Okay, engine is good, nothing's leaking, power core is steady... Alright sir, that's enough, shut it down."
Marcus flicked some of the switches, pressed some buttons and the ship began to quieten down as everything was shutting down.
"Is the ship good to go, chief?"
"Well, we've still got a few checks to do before we do any actual flight testing, but considering what this bomber has been through, it's in pretty good shape."
"I've got something you can fix, chief, it's pretty stuffy in here."
"I'll get someone on it before we next get you in the cockpit. You can get out now, sir. We can do the rest of the pre-flight checks without your assistance."
Marcus took his headset off, placed it onto the console and made his way out of the ship.
Just as Marcus got his boots on the floor of the hangar, Chief Technician Nichols stood waiting.
"Marcus, when are you going to want to fly this thing properly? We've still got to get some weaponry for it, calibrate the shields and reinforce the hull and some other technical crap that would mean nothing to you."
"I'm in no hurry, I'm taking the next shuttle down to Cape Hope and I'll be there for two or three days." He said, not wanting to say that he had to go and see a therapist.
"Oh, that's ok then. It's going to take a while to get all the required equipment, for some reason, all our requests for equipment or personnel are being delayed or outright denied."
"They give a reason why?" Marcus asked, slightly curious.
"Well, it's highly classified. Something big. Techies and Mechs from all over the place are being transferred and the people over at Personnel Management won't tell us where. Most of the components required for ship construction and repairs are being diverted. Doesn't take a genius to figure out that we're building something. I reckon we're building a fleet. Some of the lads from the other sections reckon they're building a new ship, but the annoying thing about working for a covert organisation is that they're pretty good at keeping things secret."
Marcus shrugged.
"As I said, I'm not that fussed when it gets done. I'm just lucky I could requisition this old Sekhmet. If anything, you and your guys can take it real easy fixing the ship up. I probably won't be flying it for a week or two. Just try not to get caught drinking on the job."
"Heh, if we get in trouble, we'll just give your name and sell you out." The Chief Technician said with a half serious smile.
"I expect nothing less from you, Gary.. Anyway, I gotta go." Marcus turned around to walk toward one of the other Hangars to catch his shuttle.
"Hey Marcus, wanna get a drink at the All Ranks before you go?" Gary shouted across the hangar.
"Can't, I've been barred!" he shouted back.