It was a foggy, yet bright afternoon in New London City. The city was on edge, and it showed. Traffic had been erratic for days and military traffic had picked up greatly. From the sky though, the city looked about the same as it always did. A black 'Waran' class bomber descended out of the sky and cut through the fog towards a BAF airbase on the edge of the city. It was a little more black than usual. Carbon scorring charred the hull all over. Residue from concussive explosions, and use of Hellfire Rockets that always left a black carbon shroud around the launchers.
Jonas Hudson was a little grimy after a long and active flight. He looked forward to stretching his legs again. Another successful sortie. He was returning from the repulsion of a wave of 'Obsinate' battlecruisers out in the New London defense zone. The last week had been a tough one. He had been flying repeated sorties against Gallic attackers, and scouting sweeps to get intel on enemy ships operating in the system. Both duties were tiring. Jonas hadn't been a front line soldier for some time. He had never intended on it. He had always been better behind the lines, hitting the soft underbelly of the Gallic beast.
But things had gotten bad, he thought. After touching down and allowing crews to service his ship, he hit the showers and mess hall. He had been making use of military accommodations since returning to New London, and was soldiering instead of just observing. He knew it called for it. Everyone who was able bodied was getting in the fight now.
Even from the base bar, personnel could see repeated flashes out high in the night sky. The battle was ongoing. Waves on enemy ships charge in to inflict damage and try to get back out quickly. The defenders' job was to see to it they didn't get home.
He had a drink and reviewed his personal communications. He checked the headlines and sat watching the telescreens above the bar while scanning the neural net. He was lucky. As an intelligence agent he was on detatched duty, and basically could set his own schedule. Every sortie resulted in coming back with more bumps and bruises...more scrapes. He hadn't been too seriously injured, but he hadn't managed to stay unscathed either. Taking the right amount of time between runs was important to making sure you would have it in you to make it back again. Every minute, every second was precious.
He'd been reporting back to HQ, but things were hectic and he could tell. Agents were deployed all over the place putting out fires wherever they were popping up. Now it was Omega-49. Oh yes, while the sky has been falling over New London, someone in the BAF Admiralty decided to send a ship into the system, and now there was a crisis developing there.
He sipped his drink. The usual wiskey on the rocks. He considered it a 'thinking' drink, although most would have thought the opposite. He hadn't been officially briefed about Omega-49, but knew someone from SIS would be out there. Probably Skirka he thought. No one knew what was going on. Or what the whole point was. The big picture was for anyone to figure out it seemed. He'll have his work cut out for him he mused to himself as he smirked reading the news on his pad. Already a serious diplomatic conference was underway, and threats of WMD's were already being levied. For Jonas it was simpler thankfully, he mostly did what he was told, what he had to do. It felt like a long way from New London, and most that were here were needed to contribute to the defenses. It seemed like the best place for him for the moment.
He looked at some maps for a while next. Leeds. There was the Leeds project. But something weird was happening there too. Strange satellites detected in orbit, and they don't look good. But, the Resistance base wasn't the only hope. He knew that in the event they get overrun in New London...there will always be millions on Leeds willing to fight. So it won't just be over. But he stared down at the chart, thinking it out. The lane and gate to Leeds was back open. If they could get some guys up the line, they could cut things off. But the lines at New London would have to break first. He had sent an emergency debrief about the project to the Admiralty. It was a bold move, he knew. But it also had to be done, and done right. Now, we at least had one more bargaining chip to add weight to our side. The rest would be up to higher powers. For now though, luckily or not, everyone' focus was New London Planet.
He contemplated it all. They were at a big crossroads. Within weeks, everyone would know how it was gonna go. Someone was gonna fold, at least a bit. It was at the point where he had to consider some worst case scenarios. If Bretonia is overrun, it would be easy. Go to ground, keep up the fight. If they surrender...that's even worse. Stand down? Follow orders? Or go rogue and be an enemy of both Gallia and Bretonia? He had signed up to fight the Gauls, and none were favorable situations. But if Bretonia holds out just long enough, the Gauls might be forced to call it quits finally. And if they tried to hold on to Leeds, they'd regret it one way or the other. For now though, he'd have to be prepared to flee. But he wouldn't head south, no. He'd be heading north. He downed the last of his drink as he slid out of his booth, popped outside to a designated area near the mess for quick smoke, and went to catch some rack time in his quarters.
* * * *
Solitary. That was his lifestyle. Family was far off, wherever they might be. His other family, the old crew of the Argo, were also scattered throughout the stars again. Antares disappears for months at a time. Rister was caught up in a lost cause in Bering a while back. Both were probably trying to stay in the shadows.
And women? Is there ever time? There's the wife. But he knows, he may never get back to her. If he does, it will be the long hard road out. For now, there was this war, this time.
He awoke in his cot to the sound of a loud boom overhead. He jumped up. No alarm sounding. But he went to the corridor. He could hear many army boots thumping down the deck. The hatch slid back and people were running towards the mess. When he got down there, a crowd had gathered in the large window looking out over the city. He pushed his way through.
Although there was no danger...well, no immediate danger, some of the ships re-entering after battle were exploding in the skies, now directly above the base.
"Looked like one of ours" someone said as they pointed to a large black cloud high above them. Jonas's brow was firm as he winced and looked at the debris cloud. Suddenly, another huge flash, followed by a loud boom. Everyone closed their eyes and looked away, but it was so fast everyone was lightly blinded for a moment.
"There goes another one"
"No real way to tell who's it was from this distance" Jonas said aloud. He backed out slowly, and after shaking off the blindness, grabbed some boiled eggs sitting in a basket near the kitchen, and pocketed them. He went back to his quarters and opened his main computer terminal and began going over his inventory. He'd had several ships delivered to New London for his use. A few of fighters, his bomber, and his own freighter. All were getting plenty of use now, in combat, or surveillance. There were plenty of other ships stashed out there in secret locations, for various purposes, but they were...unregistered. He brought up his bomber, and checked its status. All repaired, restocked, and ready to go. He held his watch up to his mouth and held a button, that connected him to the base docking master,
"This is SIS agent Hudson, ready my bomber craft to launch, I'm suiting up"
Jonas was all geared up and well strapped in to the cockpit of his Havoc Mk 3 bomber. The craft was sitting in space, powered down to minimal output, and lingering like a feather floating around in still air. Like shiny black clovis, the craft shimmered among the great mass of ice chunks that littered the Tau-31 system. The black finish meant that the ship was easily noticable from afar, as a sleek black speck. The cockpit of his bomber is a custom job. These craft are huge, and capable of long range flights. Even in the cockpit, you can have a minifridge and some extra storage for personal effects, and most importantly, a thermus.
Always an impressive sight, the thick field of ice sprawled outwards for thousands of kilometers in either direction. Jonas was in position along the main trade lane that ran from the Holman junction to the Leeds jumpgate. There, he'd sit until something came up on his scanner. He'd power up, take out the lane, and make a spot inspection of anything trying to get across the embargo line.
New London had gone stagnant. The people there were becoming accustomed to life under constant siege. He'd decided to slip out of the capital and make for enemy territory again. The BAF had things contained for the time being, and were still highly engaged in New London, and now Omega-49. It seemed like there was little more he could do slugging it out on the front lines with the Armed Forces. He'd been out on a few recon patrols aside from that, to '49, the Omicrons, Zurich...It was time to keep moving and not get stuck bogged down in their encircled capital, as momentum had ground to a halt. Both sides were quite entrenched, and seemed the battle was drawing closer to a slatelment.
Therefore, he figured it best to go back to the usual. He'd slip behind enemy lines and go back to operating in the underworld. There always were things to be done further away from the heightened fleet presences in New London. Since the Gauls were foolish enough to re-establish the gate connection to New London, he'd noticed a considerable traffic increase. It seems, many out there already think the war's over, and have resumed traversing across Leeds to get across Sirius.
But it wasn't over yet, and Jonas was determined to get some diggs in. At the very least, he'd remind travellers that Bretonia was still in the fight, and that Leeds should be avoided by all non essential traffic.
He'd done this several times over the years. Lately though the Gauls seem to avoid patrols, and slip in and out via one of the other routes. And of course, there was always random traffic. Zoners, Freelancers, Kusarian shippers. Many just hoping to quietly slither through what had become a rather lawless zone between Gallia and the Bretonian war front. Hours long patrols go by. A few ships are reminded Bretonia still has men out in the field, even this far behind the lines.
Finally, an alert pinged on his console that he recognized from the sound, and he reached up to flick a switch that powered up the craft. Already positioned before the trade lane ring, he fired a small salvo of plasma blasts from his Neutralizer Bomb, and disabled the lane with an overload. Just then a transport fell out of the lane in front of him. Time to go to work he thought.
"Transport vessel, halt and hold your position. This is a spot inspection, and Bretonia Intelligence wants to have a look at your cargo..."
* * * *
Days pass. The fighting continues to rage along the fronts. Jonas's usual MO is to take in the news from the various back water bars out there that are friendly to his kind. This time it was Charost Depot. At this point there was still little way to tell how things would go. He had had some contigency plans in place, fall back plans. But they may not be enough.
All he could do for now is take in the action reports and mull over the numbers. Chatter among the agents of the SIS indicated everyone was working on their own projects, and the battle in New London had put a lot of pressure on command. He was disparate now to think up new options for them to keep up their efforts against the enemy.
Even more sour, was Omega-49. Jonas had thought about shifting his attention to Gran Canaria, but things exploded out there rather fast...and literally. Now, while we were fighting for our lives in New London, we get dragged into a quagmire in our back yard. At this point, Jonas was convinced it was time to stay out of the fighting, and begin shifting resources.
The 'project' he'd worked on in Leeds for almost a year was the ticket. If things did fold, he'd have a fallback position, and a destroyer in place deep in occupied territory, capable of shifting his operations to. From there, the question would be to stay and fight, or escape while it was still possible. There was little word from the Admiralty, the government or the agency at this point as to how long we have, or if we even still have a chance.
For now, it seemed like all Jonas really could do, is keep his fingers crossed as he sips his whiskey. If things went bad, the last option would always be, take the fight to the heart of the enemy. With a new connection from Rheinland to the Gallic Borderworld Zurich, there might be new angle to do just that...
Like a tiny black arrowhead, Jonas Hudson's Havoc sat motionless in low orbit over Planet Leeds. At close range you'd notice red, white and blue lights dotting the craft in a symmetrical order. The engine itself was red, which trailed off to a beautiful purple and blue. Hudson himself was strapped up inside as usual and was lurking. The last few weeks had been busy. Things kept escalating with the war, and it seemed like chaos was breaking out around Bretonia.
He'd been observing a man made satellite in the distance, as he'd done before. The suspicious objects appeared in orbit months ago, and he'd been on the lookout for signs of any activity that might indicate what they are. As a general precaution, he'd sent out a warning to Resistance Forces on the ground to be on alert for anything strange, and avoid unnessary travel.
Hudson was sipping his flask's cup of hot tea and just closed down a miniature holographic news broadcast he'd been running there in the cockpit. News had come back that Aland Shipyard was taken by surprise. No one seemed to know what was really going on. Either way there was bad blood between the IMG and Bretonia now. The IMG of all parties. They seemed the irrational ones to him at first. Not long after it started to seem the other way around.
Hudson himself had always rued that the IMG never came out against Gallia. Sadly they now have better relations with everybody compared to Bretonia these days. Omega-3 and Omega-49 showed that Bretonia was getting desparate. Who knew if these gambles would pay off...or if these gains would hold.
But to him, the Admiralty seemed to have a little disconnect. It seemed Bretonia pays a price for everything these days, and they have no problem writing cheques. He hoped they could afford to pay it. The entire fiasco caused Hudson to think it all over.
The answer was Leeds. He'd made his nest there already. As the enemy advances farther into New London, and the BAF reshuffles, Hudson wanted to avoid getting too entangled in the Admiralty's back yard adventures, and put his resources into the same place he'd always preferred...behind the lines. He believed that holding in Leeds would be the key to stopping Gallia.
So, with a few civy ships and a few good pilots, he'd get his own operation up and running out there. It seemed that if someone didn't take the intiative to do it soon, the cause in Leeds, and the plight of its billions of occuped citizens, would be forgotten. He'd touched base with a local blockade runner and began setting up a framework for a private local Resistance. He'd had plenty of credits, equipment, ships, cargo of all kinds stockpiled for months. The secret intelligence project he'd been working on was now the lynchpin. That was its original purpose in the first place.
He put the word out to trade captains of every kind about supplying the Resistance. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Waiting and watching, hedging their bets to see what becomes of Bretonia, and what might become of Leeds in the end. A few had expressed interest, and it seemed likely they'd be able to maintain regular shipments of arms in, and refugees/casualties out.
Hudson had tried to push for more, but something always got in the way. The Service was too scattered to make a difference, and there was nothing he could do about it on his own. The Gauls kept coming, stride after stride. He'd made his choice. He'd go underground and melt into the population if he had to. Use the locals to form a secret network, establish its own supply lines, and begin to furbish its own small fleet for guerrilla attacks. They'd at least be able to stage small raids on the trade lanes, occupation forces, and nearby enemy bases, like the shipyard in Edinburgh.
As his patrol time began to wrap up he descended back to the surface. He had a Bactrian waiting an adjacent pad to launch and take up for short range cargo runs. He'd had the infrastructure in place for some time, but now he'd set up the vestiges of a supply depot for larger ships inside Leeds. If all goes well, their new hidden base would be an ideal cargo transit point for freighters, and fallback HQ.
Traversing the pedway between the landing pads, he thought to himself about the future of the fight. Was Bretonia going to stick it out? Were they on their own? At this point, it was a matter of principle. He was in for a penny, in for a pound, as the old saying goes. Even if they failed, they'd go down proudly fighting....
Hudson stood outside of a rusted, beat up, half junked prefab shelter that was an overhead cover to an old mine shaft. They were way out in the remote desert region between the larger cities. The surface of Leeds had been littered with mine shafts from centuries of mining. Once BMM was usually done with them, they simply pulled out and moved on to the next area. It had left the desert zone pocked full of hundreds of old mine sites. Many of them were in good shape. Mining technology had been pretty advanced by the time the colonies were established, let alone after centures more of settlement.
So he'd found one in good shape, relatively. Many ships had gone down in this zone too, and each one made an impact that knocks some life off an old mine. They'd had their own close call with one recently in the form of a Risk of Revelations. Nevertheless, they'd found one that was as out of the way and inconspicous as possible. There were many such sites, and they'd been relatively ignored by the Royal Navy and Marines.
He was reading over a pad intentivly when Bulldog came up from his left side. Below them was another valley, and the Stratocaster was pulling in for a landing in the low lying area, and had made an extremely low approach using the valley to avoid detection.
"That will be the last of them, once those vehicles are inside, they're all accounted for. But, uh, " he purposely hesitated.
"But we're running out of room and fast, yeah I know. But once we have the last of the personnel and vehicles inside, we can move on to Stage 2. Don't worry Bulldog, we'll keep you all busy watching mining machinery shipments for a while" Hudson retorted with a half chuckle.
Bulldog tipped his ballhat and set off down to the freighter, which was bringing in the last of the Military Vehicles they'd imported. Military Vehicles, Marines, Arms, Munitions, Salvage, Propaganda, and Envoys. All loaded into the old mining shaft.
The soldiers were preparing to go to work enhancing the mine, and they'd formed a 'Corps of Engineers' to do the work. Basic air exhange systems were put in place, some lighting, space heaters. All they needed now was the hardware to begin more excavations and armored bunkers. It wasn't going to be easy. Not only did they have to freighter it all through the BAF ground HQ, but get it to the mine and work on it without detection.
The location was sound enough for that though, it was remote, and they had more than enough maps from years past to make use of the territory to its full advantage. Hopeully, once they manage to upgrade the mine and add professional grade facilities to house troops and service vehicles, they'd be able to contribute to keeping the enemy off guard.
He watched as the last of the vehicles were driven up the hill and down into the mine. He looked down at Bulldog just in time to see his hand signal, pointing his finger up and twirling it around to signify they were wrapping things up, and the ship was about ready to go. The last of some marines hit the ground and double timed it up the hill past them.
"Very good, keep the ship on standby, I'll be back in a few minutes" he keyed in over the radio, and he saw Bulldog acknowledge, and head back up the ship's ramp into the hold.
He made his way into the mine. Things were crude, but war often is. Having overhead protection of any kind was imperative at this point. He walked about as marines were busy offloading gear, stowing the vehicles and surplus Military Salvage they'd imported. They should be able to help keep their small force maintained for some time. They'd brought in more vehicles than men by far, but if they only used a small portion of those forces at a time, for guerrilla attacks, they'd have plenty for replacements as they go. All they'd need to do is keep bringing in more men if things go bad.
He signalled to his Marine commander, and the trooper gathered his section leaders for a huddle:
"Alright folks, here's the deal. I'm out to oversee the next stages of the operation. Your standard orders will be to lay low, stay quiet, monitor the aea, and make all the preparations you can begin recieving more equipment and supplies within the week. "
"Secondly, Seargent" he said as he turned to another trooper," You job will be to begin inserting the Envoys to the civilian population. Distribute the Propaganda to them. Your job will be to organize an operation to get them into a city. I suggest finding some old civilian transport, steal one if you have to, use it to get them to a smaller town, have them melt into the population using the public transport systems. Trains, subways, hyerploops, drone taxis, etc." He turned to a group of the civis that were also setting up cots along a rock wall that broke off from the main shaft, "You have your orders as well people. Get in, find the right places, drop the propaganda, feel around for sympathizers. Stay quiet otherwise. Try to find locals that will take you in, shack up with them. We need to keep you in place spewing propaganda for some time. Once we've established firm connections to the civlian population, the workers, we can pull you out."
"Any questions?" Hudson asked. There were none. They all knew what they got into. It was pretty cut and dry about what they were attempting to do. With any luck though, this would be what keeps the Gauls off balanace enough on Leeds to slow down their settling in. This was the planting of a seed for a long term struggle.
"Good, you can reach me via long range as always, I'll try to make contact as soon as I can. We all have our jobs to do, so worry about your end, and we'll all make it through this just fine. Everyone does their job, everybody pulls through." He finished, "Dismissed".
He turned to the troop leaders one last time as the rest broke up and spoke with a lower voice, "Make sure you get sentries out asap, deploy scanning equipment, and keep everyone who doesn't need to be on the move inside and secure. I'll be back within the week with the first shipments, you'll hear from me before then. Until then, you're in charge Commander". The armored trooper nodded and saluted "Yes sir", and turned and went to work giving orders.
He turned and walked out to the main opening, and the marines pulled shut a hatchway that covered back over the main entry behind him, still concealed within the prefab shelter. He checked himself over and descended down the pathway to the bottom of the hill, stirring up a bit of dust as he went.
Bulldog was on guard still at the bottom of the ramp, "All good cap? All the kiddies tucked away?" he said while chewing on something, a big grin on his face.
"You know it Bulldog. I think they'll be alright. Too bad we didn't have some former BAF officers to run things down here. Anyways, status?"
"All checked in and good to go. Ship's right as rain. Where we headed?" he replied.
"Back to the smog Outposts for now, then I suppose we'll see. I gotta put out the word we need stuff, a lot of stuff. Alright, lets get out of here" he finished as the walked up the ramp. As he did so the ramp started to close and Bulldog put his finger to his earpiece, queitly sending word up to the bridge to move out. The engines started to rev up, as Hudson began setting down some of his gear. He sat down on a pull down bench on a wall off to the side, and suddenly remembered to key in on the comm panel, having already taken out his headset,
"Butterly, how about makin' sure you kick in the intertial dampeners before we ascend darling," he drly retorted over the comm.
"Roger that captain, sorry about the last run" Butterfly replied half giggling. Hudson shook his head and sat back down, but slid off for a moment, as she upped the throttle. Could be worse he thought.
The ship hovered its way down the valley floor to the next opening, and skimmed along the surface for about 100k before finally beginning its ascent into the sky.
Hudson was sitting back in his seat with his feet kicked up. He was in the pilot's seat of the Stratocastor, and his lady pilot was doing the work of bringing them in for a landing on Leeds. The ship was flying low across the desert towards their hideout in the mine. It had become a fairly routine run. He was paying most of his attention to a pad he was holding, watching a news broadcast.
"Leeds is still buzzing over last week's NEMP strike that hit the Mooring Fixture in orbit, which has been under control of the Gallic Royal Navy for several years. Not long after the detonation, which caused a brief flash seen from the ground all over the day side of the planet, the Leeds Resistance Forces claimed responsiblity for the attack. This left the planet cut off to large supply vessels since then, and such vessels have been seen in great numbers shipping repair materials to Stokes Mining Station.
In other news, an allied offensive was launched at the same time in Tau-31 to capture the New Tours/Holman Station Junction, spearheaded by the Crayterian Republic Fleet, backed up by the BAF and other friendly forces. Called 'Operation Ice Lance', their attacks paralyzed the trade lanes between there and Leeds all last week while Crayterian Forces siezed control of New Tours Watch Station from the Royal Navy, and re-commissioned it Barra Anchorage. They now have secured the area, and everyone seems to be bracing for a Gallic response. Tensions are running high, as this move may cause trouble for Gallia's expeditionary forces in Bretonia, which just suffered losses in the LIberty borderworlds. Gallic forces in New London are now isolated, and so citizens on Leeds are once again entertaining the notion of a Gallic withdrawel.
However, loyalist citizens are advised not to antagonize occupation forces unless under the auspices of the BAF or local resistance activities. It is still forbidden by the occupatin forces to mention withdrawel or talk about Gallia losing the war, punishable by a imprisonment, or death!
This is Radio Free Bretonia broadcasting from Occupied Leeds."
The freighter pulled into a gorge that was an entry way into a rocky area littered with cliffs. The ship zipped along the ground down between the cliffs until it came to a more open area at the base of a small mountain. It lumbered slowly as it slowed down, dropped its landing gear and settled onto the ground.
Hudson glanced at the report one last time, smiled a bit, and then pocketed the pad. He sat forward and nodded at Butterfly, checked some of the instruments, and unbuckled his seatbelt as she shut down the engine.
The sound of the rear cargo ramp lowering could be heard all through the ship. Everyone knew the drill. They all gathered in the cargo bay. They had a few crates of side arms strapped to the deck, and Bulldog and Jumpstart were already unstrapping it and activating its antigrav fields.
He walked past them down the ramp onto the ground. The mine was above them, and a few soldiers were standing guard while a small party was clamboring down the rocky path that lead up the hill. They left a trail of dust as they descended, and Hudson noted that it had gotten dry again, and hot, so best not to linger in the sun unless necessary.
He signalled to them, and they arrived at the ramp as the crew was pushing the crates, now hovering freely, down to ground level. Hudson watched them take control of the crates, and push them up the hill.
A uniformed marine flanked by two armored ones approached Hudson.
"Report" Hudson ordered.
"The operation was a success. We dumped the envoys into the civilian population easy enough. The rest is up to them. Status of the mine is unchanged. But we're still operating as a temporary encampment sir. Amenities are limited. We have utilized the space as best we can, and have stockpiled everything as neatly as possible. Otherwise, no action, no casualties." The marine replied.
"Roger. Alright good work Major. Things on our end remain unchanged, for now. With what's gone on in Tau-31... well who knows. I'll be keeping my eye on the Guillestre for now, but in the meantime, I want you to start sending out reconnaissance patrols. Use drones to scout the surrounding area, search for any wrecks, document whatever you find. Scout some routes to the cities we could use, and try to gather any info you can on enemy activity still operating in this area. I'll be back in a couple days. Questions?"
"Uh, well, I, uh -" the marine stamored.
"Good! Carry on soldier!" Hudson said with a big smile and patted the man on the shoulder, shaking him a bit, as he continued to have a slightly confused look on his face, "Remember what the pay is for soldier! One day we can get outta here!" he said with a laugh as he turned to Bulldog and gave the 'roll out' signal with his hand. Bulldog put his hand to his earset and said something, and within a couple seconds the engine on the Stratocastor could be heard revving up.
Air wooshed around them as intake vents began to breathe in air, and the noise increased. The soldiers stepped back and Hudson stepped back onto the ramp of the ship, as did the rest, and it began to raise. He gave a slight salute to the men on the ground as they watched the ship lift a bit, and the ramp closed. The ship then turned and moved back into the canyon, and dissappeared.
Jonas let the crew drop their gear and settle in again, while he made his way to the common room that linked the crew bunks, where there was a small table with a few seats. Everyone continued to go about their business as he sat back again. He turned on a display and pressed a few buttons that routed the scanner information to that screen, so he could sit there and watch the radar.
Bulldog appeared with Jumpstart in the doorway suddenly, taking Hudson by surprise. He was a little startled from his thought.
"What's up boys?" he asked.
"Uh hey cap, whats the plan. You never gave a destination to the lady flying the ship yet. We're just getting a little anxious is all" Bulldog replied, leaning up against the bulkhead for a moment, with a slight nervious smirk on his face.
"Right, no worries boys, we're sticking to the game plan. We'll hit the BAF base, take on some refugees again, and fill up the liner. Arms in, refugees out." Hudson explained, but he almost sounded bored.
"Gotcha. Uh, just one more thing cap, the Repulse just signalled it's returned to base. Orders?"
"Tell them to hold posiiton for now, I'll perform an inspection when we get back ourselves. The bases have been reactivated for the time being, if things go south for Gallia in New London finally, we could wind up back in the front lines again, so I want everyone in tip top shape!" Hudson rambled.
The others looked at each other, Bulldog silently rolled his eyes in Jumpstart's direction. They both nodded and slipped out, and Hudson went back to being distracted by his notepad and the scanner.
He leaned back again and pulled out his flask, and a tin case. He opened it and pulled out a smoke, lit it up and had a puff, then followed by a swig of the flask, before setting back in his inside pocket. He sat and thought silently to himself... Guess it ain't over til its over...
Barrier Gate Station, Coronado System
September 826 AS
Hudson pulled his freighter into the small hangar of the Barrier Gate Station Alpha, and his craft took up a position nestled in between a couple of other freighters. The Stratocaster set down and powered down smoothly. It had been a while since he'd frequented the Freelancer station. Now it was was a temporary home for a while. Things had going south, and fast. The NEMP strike against the mooring fixture was only a quaint gesture compared to what Gallia had had in the works for Leeds. They had responded alright, by ordering the total destruction of the planet. They failed in their push on New London, and enacted a plan to waste the planet if they couldn't have their victory.
Hudson ordered all of his ships to evacuate to California or Coronado. A lot had happenened over a few weeks. Everything had changed. It was over. At least, this part of the battle was over. It was time to take a break, re-organize himself and get his bearings. The war was coming to an end finally. But it wasn't ending the way anyone liked, on either side, it seemed. The "do or die" campaign in Bretonia had burnt out, but was determined to take Leeds with it. No one won, everyone lost something big.
Leeds was in the final stages of coming apart at the seams, literally. The planet was actually becoming volcanically active along its techtonic plate edges and the direct devastation from the Gallic siege weapons, which appeared to be some kind of ship mounted ion cannon, was finally encompassing the last of the major populated areas. At least, that was likely, as no one knew exactly what was going on. The last couple of weeks anyone and everyone with a freighter was dashing in to evacuate anyone they could from what had suddenly become certain death if they stayed. Weeks had passed, and Hudson had made his first low pass of Leeds since the attack. Evacuations had long since halted, and there was literally nothing, and no one, left.
Few worlds have ever wound up in such situations. A huge population of people, even with many Gallians as well, all unhinged before anhilation. An apocalpyse if there ever was one. Hudson had just made it out of the system, back to Barrier Gate, where they'd been held up for a few weeks. Everything had been pulled out. There would only be looking back at a dead world from now on. He'd thought about his options. Pulling back to the underworld seemed like the only real option. Neutral stations like Barrier Gate and the Freeports were always good places to take refuge at times like this.
He left the ship and the crew dispersed, and for the first time, with no real set time on when to meet back up. There were no more deadlines, no more supply lines. They could sit at the bar at Barrier Gate and get drunk for a few weeks. Hudson made his way up the spire linking the asteroid hanger to the main asteroid base, and slowly dragged himself to the bar. The spire was busy with travellers and peddlers, a few strange lingerers...probably peddling Cardimine. He grabbed a drink at the bar on his way in and found an empty booth to sit in. Talk on the news screens was all about the Gallic collapse, the Council victory and a lingering Royal Enclave. For now all they could do is watch and wait. As he looked around and sipped his drink, he recalled the first day of the bombardment, which was the worst for them by far...
Hudson was standing at the foot of the Stratocaster ramp waiting for the last crates to be loaded. Bulldog and Jumptart came around the corner with them and nodded at the captain as they pushed the anti-grav loaded crate up into the ship. They'd just released a load of refugees onto Outpost Beta. That made for around enough for the Maidstone to haul out a full load to Sprague. Everything had been going well the last few days. Since the arrival of the siege destroyers, chaos had been erupting on Leeds. Hudson and crew had been at it high and low in the freighter running some last minute supplies in and taking out refugees back to base. The bases were crowded now with people, supplies, arms, ammo, and marines. It was certainly the most hectic time they'd had out there so far. Some people were worried they'd be attacked and were getting anxious.
He stepped up behind the others and the ramp closed. They launched normally and they made straight for the planet. It was a long trip but not too long. Juse enough time to unwind for a few minutes. Hudson sipped a mug of hot tea while strapped into the main pilot's seat. Butterfly was working away on her side of the bridge.
He kept his eyes on a pad until they came out of the smog cloud. Hudson glanced up as the computer registed them leaving the cloud, and took a look up at the planet in the distance. At the same time Butterfly did the same and turned, and both froze as they fixed their gaze on Leeds. Off in the distance, many glowing purple beams could be seen around the planet. They must have been those orbital weapons, finally in use. Hudson, reached up and grabbed the hand held and keyed in over shipwide,
"Everyong get up to the bridge now" he blurted.
A few seconds passed and the rest of the gang came barreling through the hatch, all also suddenly awstruck by the sight of Leeds, with many tiny glowing spikes, off in the distance.
"This is it, its begun. I'm taking us in as close as we can, but I'm not risking any more of us. Things must be getting crazy down there now. Anything on the comms Butterfly?"
"Uh, yeah, some MRG chatter, and some Rheinlander civi broadcasting an automated message on repeat. " she said.
"Alright, all stop. Pull a 1-8-0 and take us back to base. I'm not risking it with the MRG around"
"Chatter indicates they aren't hostile to evacuations cap, they might let us pass...?" she retorted.
"Nah, not risking it. RTB. Dump these supplies. I'll be ordering the final evacuation of the bases and all of our ships" Hudson replied.
The rest of them were quiet and looked around at each other.
"Yeah I guess its over folks"
"Uh, cap, what about the mine? What about the marines and people on the ground?" Bulldog spoke solemnly, one of the seldom times you'd ever catch him like that.
"You know a way to get in there despite whats going on mate? I wish I did!" Hudson blurted back as he pulled out his flask, "What are we supposed to do? We always knew attacks from orbit could pose a threat, but this?...This is something else entirely. Where'd did this come from? Why couldn't they get here first? I don't know guys. I do know that we're still here, we're safe, the refugees and marines and crew back on the bases are safe, and we can get all of them out still. Then we'll reassess the situation. When we get back to base, send word for every ship to load up and proceed to evacuation point A or B, and be careful. Have the Maidstone move out ASAP. I'll stay and run things from the Repulse until everything and everyone is out"
Hours passed. Things got hectic back at base. Refugees were rowdy, the liner made a successful run, and was ready for the last load. Hudson oversaw the loading and sent them on their way. Hours passed again. He was on the bridge of the Crecy when a crewman passed along word that the liner had been busted open close to the Cambridge jumpgate, and the refugees lost. The ship and surviving crew were dragged back to Isle of Skye by Junkers, and its being repaired. ETA 12 hours. Great. Hudson sighed and rubbed his forhead. The last run. Something else to add to the list.
A few minutes later, he was passed word they'd recieved an automated message from Newport. He was MIA 24 hrs, and it was probably because he never made it back from an evacuation run. Something else to add to the list. He paced the bridge. The small bridge crew watched him when they could as he processed what was happening.
"Alright, send orders, evacuate base crew and the last marines to the Maidstone when they return, and make sure they take a safe route out of the system, I want to make sure they get to Barrier Gate in one piece. The Stratocaster is holding in Edinburgh until I return to it with the Repulse. Once everyone is off of the stations, we'll collapose the modules and destroy them ourselves."
The crew looked at him. Jumpstart and Bulldog were there too and had left the rest evacuate with the freighter a system over. They looked at the captain with that same old look too.
"Yes that's right. We all knew this day would and could come. Besides, the BAF will likely be advancing through the system after the Gauls burn everything in their retreat. If they leave, and Leeds gets wasted, we have no reason to remain, and are only compromised from here on in. Everyone's done a great job in this fight, and its not over. But for now, we withdraw as well, and go from there. " Hudson said in a little speach to the bridge. With that, they went back to work, and the ship undocked to take up position facing the base.
The liner came and went with the last of the personnel, and the last of the valuables were out. Hudson ordered the ship to open fire, and they 'dismantled' the bases themselves, before leaving the smog cloud for one last time.
From there he took the destroyer back over the Edinburgh under cloak and stashed the ship at New Providence, and took the freighter back out, on its way to Coronado. It was done...for now...
The organization was done. But it was anyone's guess on what happens next. Only time would tell. Hudson knew he'd lay low until the storm blew over, and then poke his head out to check for his shadow. One thing was for sure, there was going to have to be some retribution over Leeds, and those who helped the Gauls in their attrocities are still out there.
Hudson finished his drink and signalled the bartend for another. He pulled out his pad and looked at the map of Sirius. He pondered over it for a while with a distraught look on his face. He double checked a few details. He still had the ships to fly whatever he liked, and the crew and hardware to stage attacks on shipping lanes. He could also prowl for those trecherous IMG miners, whom had obviously sided with Gallia after the Aland standoff. This enclave was bound to hide the worst the old GRN had fighting, and plenty of Bretonian or Leeds collaborators. Perhaps he wasn't going to be totally out of business after all. He opened a comms channel on the pad and sent a transmission...
Hudson had spent a lot of his time recently at the bar on Freeport 6. It was going on 4 months since the scortching of Leeds, and collapse of the former Kingdom of Gallia into what now seemed like several small interstellar fiefdoms. One literally calls itself a Royal 'Enclave', and hangs on in Edinburgh under the banner of deposed King Charles. The entire region that had been the main warzone during the Gallic invasion was now fractured, but things were changing fast. The Gauls were split, Bretonia was getting some respite, and the Crayterians were asserting themselves. As always, it was anyone's guess as to whether it all be for better or worse.
He was up to his usual routine, which mostly involved eating that Kusarian chow they served on the station, and mulling over news screens at the bar while endlessly rotating a glass of whiskey. He'd stare into the drink sometimes, and every so often look back up at the screens. Every once in a while there was someone making some small talk, but he was still reeling from the dastardly end Leeds had suffered. The war had ended in a burn out, and it left him with the same burnt sentiment. All he could think about was all of those people, all of the men he'd had on the surface. All lost.
News reports of the day came in, but this time he was unwinding after a long day of flying, not just drinking. Headlines in were of a recent skirmish between the now splintered remnants of the Gallic invasion over in Edinburgh. There was also reports that it was because Bretonia had been returned the system via peace accords, and it seems like not all of the remaining Gauls agreed on that. *he smirked at the thought*
And it had indeed been a long day of flying. He'd gotten his things back together finally after the collapse in Leeds. His ships had been sent to various bases as fallback positions with the last of his stores of ammo and supplies. He'd finally collected and prepared his "Z" line vessels for private piracy again, as it had been before his time in the privateers or intelligence service. So, he'd been staging small raids over into Edinburgh, Brittany, or Languedoc, hauling back whatever supplies they could scoff to flip somewhere else. Today it had been a GMS vessel.
He'd hit them a few times over the last 6 weeks. Sometimes he'd go alone in just a bomber for the exercise. He'd finally collected his assets from the now decommissioned destroyer Repulse, which he'd first 'borrowed' from the BAF under the authority of the BIS, and transferred his operations to his old pirate transport, which he'd aptly renamed the Queen Carina's Revenge. It seemed only fitting. Like in years past, this former privateer had also been soured by unjust losses, which eventually seemed more due to his own side's cowardace, rather than the enemy. Quite frankly, there was no excuse for letting Leeds be destroyed.
He'd had his own suspicions of the motives of some of the BAF brass for some time. It was like sometimes they were holding back, or purposefully sabotaging counter offensive efforts with poor descisions. Now, it was too late to do anything. Or was it? He wondered if it was time to take a deeper look into who'd really be doing what over the last 12 months of the conflict. If he could find out if there'd been traitors in the SIS or Admiralty, he could expose them finally. Who knows what damage they could still do. Sadly, evidence was still lacking for now.
With the chaotic situation still being juggled by the local powers, his plan was simply to fly under the radar of all of them while exacting his own post war 'accord'. It was all he had left for the moment, and he was through with the 'allies' he'd fought with against Gallia, as they were all up to their usual tricks anyways. The transport made for a perfect raider after the right upgrades, and would make a good mobile base while he bounced in and out of the Gallic Borderworlds.
He took out his pad and reviewed the guncams of a couple of recent attacks, and filed them while he listened to the news.
He then pulled out a handheld mic and send an alert. After a few moments, a fuzzy voice finally answered,
"Bulldog here boss, I was awake, I swear"
"Sure you were Bulldog, its fine. The new codename guns and scanner just arrived and were fitted aboard the Stratocaster. Keep her systems online and the engine 'warm', I might want to grab you and Cylcone to take her out for a quick run as well. The Bullmastiff has lots of power, but I sometimes feel too...cumbersome"
"Roger that boss, I heard Jumpstart's report, she should be a deadly little weasel now" he retorted as he then followed with a hard snicker.
"Good, good. We may need to get around fast again. I've got an idea" he said with a smile on his face,
"Not sure I like the sound of that boss" Jumpstart finished with a gulp.
Hudson closed the comm and pulled out the pad again, and prepared to send off a communiqué...
An extremely large vessel slowly crawled its way from the trade lane towards Freeport 6. It was a 'Bustard' Class Civilian Carrier. They had been widely used in recent years to bolster small Freelance and Corporate operations, usually outside of House space. They were large enough to serve as mobile HQ's and could house several small craft.
Hudson was standing on the bridge, observing out the main viewport, watching the crew flutter about. He sipped a cup of tea on this occasion, and had stayed fairly sober for the last few weeks. He and his crew had had a few busy days lately. He'd set aside raids to work on some other projects, mainly, outfitting a jump capable Freelance carrier. It was a big move.
"Sir, the docking master reports we are cleared to moor" a crewman spoke to Jonas after reporting to him.
"Good, take us in. After everyone has had a chance to go aboard, one of my officers will be taking the ship back out to maintain standard orbit of the station until you hear back from me. As soon as we're docked, I'll be disembarking for a few days."
"Understood sir" the crewman responded, and returned to his station.
Jumpstart and Bulldog came onto the bridge and proceeded directly to Hudson.
"That's it sir, everything has checked out. All of the new equipment is operating at 100%. We're in good shape. This thing turned out to be not so bad after all. I'm still not used to all this room to walk around though" Jumpstart reported as well.
"I know the feeling, I hate big ships. But we've had to use big ships before, when it became necessary. Well in the future, it may be necessary. From now on this will be my public command ship. Of course, the public won't know its just part of the picture. For now, she'll be on stand by in case we need to secure our fallback position." He'd also constructed a new 'Sanctuary' for them to withdraw to at a secluded location, and had been working on upgrading that as well.
"Jumpstart, you'll be taking command of her until the rest of us get back, take Boltcutter with you. The rest are with me. We'll be back within a day or so. Now that my new investment has been sorted out, its time to get back to raids."
The men nodded, and as they finished speaking they all looked out the viewport to see the ship finish docking with the station.
Hudson made his way onto the Freeport, and from the station looked back out at the ship. It had been a risky investment, buying such a big ship, in need of so many crew, and so much space! It wasn't what Hudson wanted, he liked being independent, on his own, and a ship only big enough to get in and out of a keyhole. This was more like riding an elepant. However, he'd had his old civilian Liner kept in storage there since the war, and he had no plans to use it for transporting people again anytime soon. They did deal the Carriers via the freeport, so a trade in seemed logical, and helped offset some of the cost.
In the final days of the war in Bretonia, when he evacuated his ships and property from Leeds, he'd had several smaller transports load up on Gold Ore from BMM's Goldgeist base in Dublin. It was his intention to store some extra gold until things blew over and he could pick himself up again. Finally he found reason to finally sell the gold. The rest came from playing some market investments, some savings, and re-cycling of some equipment he still had. He'd now outfitted the ship with some of the best stuff money could buy. It would make an excellent mobile base, and was far more capable than the old destroyer ever had been. And now, they had an FTL Jumpdrive installed and successfully tested.
His new plan was to maintain a front as a civilian Freelancer, but do everything he could to combat the Enclave, and any other belligerent parties in the Taus. How to do this? The same way he always did. With any luck, he could attract some friendly parties to join him as well.
He'd recently discovered that the Enclave was dealing in high quantities of arms and munitions. A great deal of transport traffic in Brittany was carring Small Arms, Black Market Muntions, Black Market Light Arms, Munitions, etc. They made for perfect targets, and were easily sellable on the black market. It hurt the Enclave, and helped their cause at the same time. Hudson had figured out the best tactic. Fly in via a back route in the Islay nebula, fly out and hit Enclave transports, make off with the goods, flip them elsewhere. It was guerrilla warfare in space. He'd decided to hit only those ships carrying weapons.
Finally, he and the crew found the Queen Carina's Revenge at its moor, and boarded. After days of sometimes getting drowsy in the big chair of the Bustard, taking to a small raider again was an exciting change.
"Alright folks, stow your stuff and get to your stations, we blast off immediately. I want to hit Enclave space as soon as possible. We'll be making in and out trips, so the faster we're in, the faster we're out with the goods" He spealed as the crew entered the ship and dispersed. He smirked a bit and made his way to the bridge.
* * * *
Hours had passed. They had conducted a couple of successful raids into the system, and fell back to dump their goods safely. Hudson was really getting the feel from the old days, back when he was the gunner aboard the Argo, which was even smaller than the Bullmastiff.
The raids were a bit precarious though. The had to linger quite close to Issoudun Shipyard, which was the focal point for trade in the system now. Except every once in a while, an enemy patrol would appear and make them sweat a little. Just a little.
But the ship was equipped with a cloak. This raid had been the one. After lingering for some time, an Enclave Gunboat appeared near the station.
Hudson had ordered an immediate abort, they hit the cloak and barely made it clear. Thankfully, after a few minutes, the scanner cleared and they went back in, scooping up another cargo load of arms.
It wasn't until they were heading back into the Islay Nebula that he had realized he had broke a bad sweat for a few minutes as they were being chased. It had been enough. The crew was a little frazzled after 3 raids, and figured a forth would definitely mean combat. Hudson walked over to his chair and reached up to grab the hand held reciever,
"Alright folks, well done. We're turning in after this. Course is set to return to Tau-29. Comms, notify the boys aboard the Maidstone we'll be home soon. "
The crew breathed its sigh of relief, and he knew it finally eased the tension. The way out was almost the hardest, as the last thing they did before tractoring the loot, was dump their cloak batteries, leaving them exposed as they withdraw. They dreaded the hard parts, but he always found folks who'd do the job they signed up for right to the letter. It wasn't hard these days. There were so many who'd been hurt by the war, there was still plenty left with who'd make no bones about getting some revenge in over Leeds.
Hudson sat in his chair as he and watched giant ice chunks fly past them as they zipped across Tau-31. He smiled at the thought of stocking up on free arms provided by the enemy, or simply selling them for cheap to smugglers. Either way, it seemed for a while they might be 'back in business'. He took out his pad from a pocket inside his coat, and began to file guncams of the raids...
Hudson had an impatient look on his face as he approached his carrier, the Maidstone. The ship was holding a regular position not far from Charost Depot. It was relieving to make it back to friendly territory, but he was more anxious than ever. The last few days had been very active, and he’d spent many hours recently in the cockpit, or aboard one of his transports overseeing efforts to reorganize his assets for more offensive operations.
He’d been hoping to take out the Maidstone soon to base for raids into Enclave space, and a good opportunity might be approaching. It was beginning to look like Brittany might be ripe for some action.
He pulled into the docking module of the Bustard and jumped out as soon as the standard docking procedure was complete. Bulldog, Boltcutter and Cyclone were at the mouth of the mod that also lead to the main bay, standing waiting for him. More crew came and went around them as they talked.
“Have Butterfly process the data from my scanners. It was a successful test run, I got a good shot lined up, next time it shouldn’t be too hard to go in quick and drop a bomb on them faster than they can blink” Hudson went right at the matter at hand, slightly out of breath as he spoke, “I got in and out no problem. Long range scans showed a high degree of Enclave activity in the nearby systems though, I didn’t stay long. I got my target lock and bugged out. As soon as patrols die down, I’ll be broadcasting to Vierzon Mining Facility a little demand for a ransom they won’t soon forget…I figure it’s a place they might consider worth paying big to save, and I can sneak up on it from Tau-23.” he explained.
“And what if they refuse cap?” Boltcutter asked with a smile on his face.
“I’ll come back and drop an NEMP volley on them, plain and simple. That should stick a good thorn in their side for a while. either way.” Hudson replied, “And not only that, but there’s another place in the ‘Hebrides’ I found in a sweep, something new. Not sure who runs it or what the deal is, but I plan to soon find out that too.“
“So I expect we’ll be…?” Bulldog raised his eyebrows as he asked, and purposely left his sentence end with a blank.
“We’ll be up to the usual. I’ll have us use either a small raider, or yes we’ll take the Maidstone itself in if there’s any places that don’t open up or pay up” Hudson replied dryly, “I think our last attack on that convoy rattled them a little, if its an Enclave base, they‘ll know we mean business” he then smirked and let himself chuckle a little.
“Roger that boss. We got the hyperspace coords for Aquintaine while you were out, and the Pelican you ordered is ready and docked on Charost.” Cyclone chimed in as he stood up straight and strengthened his voice a bit, sounding proud.
“Excellent, good work men. We’ll take this one step at a time. I’ve put out a call for volunteers to join us, but so far organized resistance to the Enclave is lacking. The Maquis are fractured sadly, and Bretonia is busy trying to keep other fires from flaring up, as usual. I’m not sure what this new government in Gallia plans to do, if anything, and the Crayterians have been rather quiet for months. If we’re lucky, hopefully news of a big attack in Enclave space will renew some hope with our old allies and sympathizers. At least people will know that there are some of us out here keeping the fight up as best we can, and maybe that will inspire some to join us. I‘m hoping to link up with any Maquis stragglers or still functioning units soon, we just have to make some noise” he spoke firmly as he faced the three men, all of them now noticing a few of the crew working behind them had slowed to listen, and then scurried back to work.
The guys acknowledged him, and broke off up the corridor, and Jonas followed up behind them slowly. He still had some gear to stow and then planned to head on up to the bridge for a while. The ship was a good place to monitor traffic before setting up attacks along the trade lanes with a smaller raider. Not only that but they could hold a couple of attack craft, and jump in and out of enemy territory now. All they needed was a few pilots crazy enough to go on those types of attacks.
In Sirius though, reputation was everything. Victories meant stories, and you had to make sure what people around Sirius heard was what you’d hope for. Well if they could pull off a few small victories, it might be enough to serve as a rallying cry for others.
For now, he’d fight his own war if he had to, as he knew the Royalists will continue to gain strength and rebuild during this lull. Well whatever it took is what he’d do, he thought to himself, and that it was time to raise the stakes. He made his way to his quarters, for his first real break in at least a day.
* * * *
Hours later, Hudson finally made it to the bridge, after a long shower and a good hot meal. It was nice to have the ship well established and drilled. He’d moved his main quarters over to the carrier and had spoiled himself with what had to be equal to an Admiral’s quarters. After the events of the last two years, he decided he wasn’t going to spare any expense on his bunk anymore. After having lived aboard a Pelican for years, it was as good as a luxury hotel.
He sat in the captain’s chair, which he rarely did. But the crew seemed energized when the captain was on the bridge so he figured he’d do some of his work from up there instead of locked away in his quarters.
He pulled out his pad and filed his recent gun cams, began sorting scans, and prepared to send a transmission…
Hudson exited the mess of the Ark Royal and made his way to the bow the ship. The corridors were packed full of BAF personnel and Royal Marines. He could hear the bustle of the crew from every direction, from people shouting orders back and forth, and the operation of loud equipment far off in some unseen location.
He’d been operating from the ship since he rejoined the service. The weeks prior had been brutal. For months, things slowed to a crawl. Hudson’s crusade against the Enclave had worn him down. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone further than Freeport 6 to Planet Harris. He’d lost his old base, and there was practically no business for him as a freelancer or junk dealer.
Kusari’s invasion changed everything in Gallia though. Things were changing again quickly. It only took one false move to shift the entire balance of power in a region, or hold it. Rheinland’s civil war had proved that recently as well. Now, the Enclave had made a leap back into Gallic space by capturing Planet Quillan in a bold move. But that left them open Edinburgh, where they’d been fortified for more than a year.
It became clear that they’d finally given up and were making moves to pull out. New supply lines formed though Orkney, and Hudson jumped on it. Days of attacks lead to them taking a beating, and he pulled back to Tau-31. He'd made his point, happy to give them a kick on their way out the door. Word must have traveled, as not long after, the 'service' gave him a ring.
It had been a long time. There had been many changes, both to the Bretonian military establishment, and the SIS’s leadership. But Hudson knew it was perhaps a good time to return to the intelligence service in the hopes of joining the final push to liberate Planet Gaia, the only habitable planet in the Edinburgh System. The last Royalist holdout of the Gallic war.
Hudson made it to the forward observation deck and stood in an open gathering area in front of a large viewport, looking out towards Gaia. There was a group of BAF officers gathered talking on the other side of the room. One of them turned and noticed Hudson after he arrived, and waved him over.
“This is the SIS Agent I told you about. I heard he was on board and figured he might be able to help us with our little problem” the Commander said to the others. Hudson looked at him curiously. He had been summoned there minutes ago, not knowing why. Until then, he’d been spending his days reading intelligence reports and updates on skirmishes near the planet.
“What’s this about Commander?” Hudson asked him directly.
“Agent Hudson, your presence here couldn’t be better timing. I checked your record, and it says you have experience in operating behind enemy lines. We have a situation that requires a special operation.”
“Yeah that’s right, I used to do a lot of under the scanner flying in and out of Leeds during the occupation. What is it you have in mind?” Hudson inquired. The other officers looked at the Commander and nodded. He bade Hudson to follow him. They all proceeded again down into the vessel to an operations room, with a tactical display, that focused on the planet.
“If you’ll turn you attention to the display Agent Hudson. As you know we’re making our final push on Enclave battleships still defending Gaian airspace while their transports evacuate the planet. What you may not know is that two days ago a BAF Special Service force tried to force land a small raiding party that attacked an Enclave command and control center on the surface, in hopes of causing a decapitating blow against their defense grid.” the officer stated in a neutral tone. A Leftenant next to him then spoke up.
“Sadly sir, that raid failed. Somehow it seems they were ready to meet our attack. They encountered much heavier resistance than expected. Contact was lost with our team almost 48 hours ago. But, each soldier in the raid had a temporary tracking device planted in their body. It was able to send us proof of vitals and a general location just 24 hours ago. We believe several of our men may be being held at a detention center not far from the fortress they attacked.”
“And let me guess, you want to try again?” Hudson retorted sarcastically.
“Well, no. We’re not sure if we had a leak. So far only we know you’ll be involved. We want you to take another team in to get the POW’s. Avoid the fortress at all costs. Whatever you need to do, do it. Get our people in, our special forces will go in and get our men, and you fly them all back out. Can you do it?” he asked.
Hudson looked at the map on the table, lit up and glowing with several indicators scatted about. Some flashed indicating units currently engaged, others for units returning from combat. Several different kinds of alert noises could be heard, all beeping together. It was an impressive sight. The dark room was only lit by the displays for the most part. He looked up at the officers.
“I can get you in yeah, it won’t be easy. I’ll have to use a civilian freighter just to approach the planet. Even in that case, they’ll shoot us on sight. But say we get past their airspace patrols, we go in low, cloaked as far as we can go. So, yeah, I can get you in, and probably out” he chuckled, “the rest is up to your men. I’ll need 6 hours to call in a ship”
“Very well Agent Hudson, our soldiers will meet you in space, we’ll transfer from one of our freighters to yours away from any possible witnesses. They’ll have all of the information you need. Remember, time is against us. Enclave forces are expected to finish their evacuation any day now, and its unlikely any of our POW‘s will be left on the planet, or evacuated” the Commander finished.
“Lovely. Well, I suppose we have to try then don’t we?” Lucky for you lads I’m always up for getting shot at for a good reason” Hudson replied to him with a half grin. With that, the officers nodded, glanced at each other for a moment, and departed. Hudson made his way to the hanger bay.
* * * *
“One minute to atmosphere” Butterfly exclaimed loudly as she piloted the ship, flicking switches while holding the wheel with one hand.
A battered, old Bactrian class freighter was barreling towards the Gaian atmosphere at breakneck speed. Hudson came up front from the cargo hold of his old resistance runner, the Stratocaster.
“Alright, drop cloak, raise the shield for re-entry. Take us in low darling, you know the drill” he said with a smile. The computer’s voice could be heard low in the background saying “shield activated”. With that, the ship began to rock and forth, and turbulence began to increase. Hudson grabbed onto a grip bar lining the bulkhead. Boltcutter and Bulldog were right behind him, and they all watched the re-entry.
Finally the bumping dropped off and the ship began to stabilize. Just when the cloud cover and ionization cleared, they made a hard pull up, just before skimming the tree line, staying just above it.
“Nice flying as usual my dear. Just like old times, am I right? Alright activate the cloak and proceed to the coordinates. Make sure your automated topographical sensors are active, try not to hook any treetops…eh?” he said as she glanced back at him.
“I got this cap, cloak is up, we’re moving in at full speed. ETA, 16 minutes” she shot back, her gaze still fixed forwards.
Hudson nodded at her with a grin, and turned to the others. They followed him below. In the main bay a dozen special forces soldiers were huddled together, ready to go into battle. He turned to their squad commander, “So far so good! 15 minutes!”
Hudson looked around the crowded room. He looked at his own men who were also ready for a big fight. Somehow he was only just realizing they were back in the that old fight again. He thought about the last few years and the things they’d been though. Hopefully Gaia’s fate would be better than that of Leeds. That much was likely, the real question was, what comes next?
Suddenly an alarm started going off, and Hudson turned quickly to fire himself up towards the bridge. Butterfly’s voice rang over the intercom as he did so, “Uh captain, we’ve got a problem, you better get up here…”
Hudson burst into the bridge and quickly sat down in the empty pilot’s chair next to hers. He strapped in.
“What we got?” he demanded.
“Fighters, two of ‘em. They’re behind us a bit, they just showed up. I don’t think they can see us yet, but they’re on just about the same path. They could have seen us during re-entry” Butterfly explained as she stared down the scanner.
“They could have been cloaked too. Dammit. We’re almost there, we’ll have to take our chances, I --” his reply cut short, when the ship made a strange, dastardly noise from the ship's cloaking device suddenly failing.
“Cloak disruptor!” She yelled. The ship’s cloak had been fried by a jamming device, and they were now visible.
“Reactive the shield, stay on course, all crews to turret stations!” Hudson yelled back over the intercom.
The fighters, Lynx class very heavy fighters, rolled and dove towards the freighter. They tried to strafe them, but the freighter’s turrets delivered a flurry of turret fire back in their direction. After a few attempts, they pulled back out of range and kept their distance. The freighter was still only about 50 feet above the tree line, and was now spotted by ground defenses. Yet they were too low for most of it to get a direct shot. Flak was also filling the area, but the ship pulled in over the wall of a prison compound, at the edge of their defense perimeter. A tent city with what looked like a makeshift landing pad could be seen in the distance, probably an Enclave civilian camp.
“This is it, hatch is down, soon as we hit the ground you are good to go!” Hudson yelled over the comm, “Boys get down their and hold the foot of the ramp, I’ll be right there”
Jumpstart abandoned his turret station and joined him as they made their way down into the cargo hold again. Hudson pulled his sidearm and stopped at the foot of the ramp.
“Bulldog is with me, the rest of you hold this ramp until we all return. I’m going in with the team. We need 10 minutes!” Hudson ordered over the sound of the engines humming loudly. They had landed in the yard of a walled compound that was now in total disarray.
Lucky for them, Enclave forces had been stretched thin, and prisoners were low priority it seemed. The freighter’s turrets had taken out their guard towers, hopefully the surprise was enough to help pull it off.
The fighters overhead had swung around and returned. This time they didn’t go in close for gunfire, but dropped mines from higher above. The ship’s turrets aimed directly upwards and started shooting the mines in mid air. Flak was still going off, just above the ship, which was safe for the moment.
Hudson and Bulldog entered the prison, only to find the team had already mostly cleared the main area. They were setting everyone loose, and Hudson joined them. Within minutes dozens of people were running around, flooding outside, and the soldiers were making their way back with all of the BAF marines.
As they returned to the yard, someone from the wall on the far side started shooting at them. People scattered and there were more exchanges as they crossed to the ship. Finally, they made it all back aboard, and the ship lifted off.
“This is it captain, we can stay low but not for long! You gotta get them fighters off our back!” Butterfly reported over the intercom.
“I have a plan my dear, as always. Well…you know I can think of something fast anyways!” he laughed back, “Throw all power into the shield, with those fighters close by the cloak is useless. Head for the nearest large body of water” he said as he checked the map.
“Body of water? You planning on going fishing captain?” she retorted.
“I think we all are. Not much choice as I see it. More fighters coming in from the other direction”
“Incoming Missile” the computer voice rang out.
“Sooner than later would be nice” he said as he winced at the scanner. He looked up as they cleared one last hill and emerged out over a large lake, comparable on some planets to a full on sea.
“Shield power diverted. We’re a flying bubble. Lets take her down” he said.
“Captain we don’t do this too often. As in, never. We’ve taken quite a lot of flak fire, and this ship wasn’t brand new in the first place” Butterfly replied angrily, "I doubt the shield will hold very long"
“We need to try, if we go up with those patrols closing in, we’re done for. But I’m willing to bet those fighters won’t be as crazy as us”
The ship then began to descend, and plunged into the water at full speed. Its shield displacing the water, it sank below the surface. Missiles following them impacted on the water’s surface, and the fighters, began to orbit.
The Stratocaster then began to ‘sail’ off further into the lake, towards the deeper parts. As they reached several hundred meters, Hudson signaled to hold their depth, and continue towards the other side of the lake. Their own scanner range now diminished, he’d need to gamble on when to come out.
They held at the bottom for a short time. Hudson paid the cargo hold a visit, and told the strike team what was going on. All he could do now is wait in hopes they would give up. Hours of calm went by. Hudson had ordered them to stay quiet.
Finally the silence was broken by an explosion nearby, which rocked the ship.
“Nuclear Mines” Hudson yelled out.
“Great, now what?” someone yelled.
“Butterfly, get us moving!”
More explosions followed them, but as they moved off, they seemed to lose the explosions. Things were getting rough. Hudson then heard a sudden bang, and a snap. Soon, water started trickling at his feet.
“Captain, that last hit killed our shield, we’re exposed to the water, and probably have a leak by now!” the pilot reported. Hudson remained calm, but had to admit, he knew this mission was going to be a big one, but this is a bit dark, even for his usual fate.
The ship reached a massive wall finally, there was no where left to go. They pulled up and made for the surface. They burst out of the water at full speed and left a huge cloud of vapor behind them.
Hudson checked his scanner, and waited for weapons fire. Those fighters could easily be right on top of them. Yet he blinked twice to be sure, that the area was clear. Unless they were cloaked, they may have gone in the other direction.
“We still have cloak fuel” Hudson demanded, “hit the switch, get us under cloak while we can! And make for space full speed!” he turned and hit the ships intercom, “damage report, check for hull breaches or fractures!”
The ship’s cloak engaged after a few moments, and Hudson sat back in his chair, breathing a long earned sigh of relief. He looked over at his pilot who’d been clutched to her controls for hours now. One thing was for sure, this one had been a close call.
He made his way back to the cargo hold. Internal stopgaps kicked in and they were holding together. Hours passed and they made their way safely back past the BAF armada to the rendezvous point, which was inside a shipwreck graveyard not far from the Ark Royal.
* * * *
Days later, Hudson awoke aboard the Ark Royal to an alert. The ship was moving. Someone in the corridor could be heard yelling “They’re gone! They’re gone!” as they ran to the other end of the ship. Hudson turned to his computer console and checked for a status report. The ship was now bound back for Leeds, as suddenly all Enclave forces near Gaia had disappeared towards the Orkney jump hole. It was over.
He sat down and gave it some thought. It had gone on a long time. Sirius was entering a pivotal time, with Kusari also returning from Gallia stronger than before. Only time would tell, but for the first time in years, old Bretonia was free of Gallic forces. However, where one era ends, another just begins...
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