Kyle Cross stood on the edge of the landing pad, staring at the gray sky and the vast plain covered in orange grass all the way until the eyes could see. If told 3 years ago that he'd call Malta home, Kyle would've taken it as a moderately bad joke. But here he is, standing on the surface of this accursed planet without a rebreather. And everybody knows that there's no going back from that.
Even though he has been living on Malta for two years already, and Cardamine became a necessity long ago, there were days when Kyle couldn't come to terms with it. Eventually he grew more and more used to the planet, but once in a couple of months he would just observe the scenery and think back to the times when he only heard about Malta and barely saw any Outca... Maltese, as some of them prefer to be called, apparently.
"When did it all go downhill? Was it that final job for the Colonials? Or maybe right after my graduation from West Point and that mess in the Hudson system... Or a bit later, when I crossed the LSF... 'Crossed', huh? What an awful pun."
He smirked, turning to the center of the landing pad and seeing his new Sabre. It looked almost the same as his previous Sabre that he flew during his long tenure as a freelancer, but there were differences. Firstly, it ran on MOX, just like Rheinland vessels. Secondly, this Sabre had "Wyrm" tachyon cannons and an Outcast transponder instead of standard civilian equipment. And the last but not least, there was a small emblem on this new ship... The emblem that marked it as the property of the 101st squadron, otherwise known as the Ghosts of Razgriz or Maltese Spectres.
"At least I'm a free man now... As much as that goes for anyone who breathes in the air of Malta with full lungs and doesn't get high."
He chuckled as he walked towards the ship. He knew that the joke was bad, but it made him think about present as opposed to the past. And things were definitely looking up for Kyle. A chance to fly after spending a couple of years grounded was definitely a step up. Almost like back in Liberty when he first became a Navy pilot...
- Overlord, this is Lambda-1. I'm taking Lambda-4 to sector 4C for a quick scouting trip, over.
- Affirmative, Lambda-1. Be advised, our long-range scanners indicate movements several sectors away from us. All Liberty forces are on yellow alert, there have been reports of provocations by Rheinland forces in New Hampshire. Keep your guard up, but don't initiate hostilities. We're dispatching Lambda 2 and 3 as well; they will be on standby just outside of direct scanning range, if you need any help.
- Roger that, Overlord. I won't risk getting the rookie into any trouble on their first actual flight. Lambda-4, do you read? No Wild West for you today, Kyle.
- Understood, sir. It's better that way. And hey, Norman, enough with the official warnings, and open the bay doors already, I want to see what's out there.
- Cut the chatter, Lambda-4, and stick to the protocol. Launch bay clear, no personnel inside. Venting atmosphere... Done. Opening launch bay doors... You're good to take off, Lambda squadron.
- Understood, Overlord. All Lambdas, on me.
The four new Guardian-class fighters left the safety of the launch bay of the Liberty Assault Carrier straight into the field of rocky asteroids, as the launch bay doors closed behind them. Flight control officer O'Connor, fresh off West Point, just like pilot Kyle Cross, observed from the bridge as the four ships engaged the cruise engines and headed towards the frozen planet called Atka. "We're not the only ones watching what's out there, Kyle" - he mumbled to himself.
Not so distant past,
Barrier Gate Station,
Coronado system
- Are you sure you want to do this, Kyle? I mean, it's your call but I have a bad feeling about that job. Remember, the last time I told you that same thing, when you went to rescue your friend David Gee from LSF custody? You ended up on the run and on Liberty's wanted list. Well, I have this feeling about this job too.
- Relax, Carl. It's not the same. Firstly, it's for the Crayterians. Secondly, it's against the Outcasts. See? I won't end up on a wanted list now. And that job in Liberty went well, my help was enough to get David to Kusari safely, out of LSF's reach. Besides, I was probably already on the Liberty's wanted list for desertion.
- I think you were considered MIA, and ended up as a criminal. And now you're going up against the most dangerous criminals in the sector. And on behest of the Crayterians, no less. I thought you didn't like them.
- You're right, I still don't. They ran from their Tau-whatever down to Coronado, and now they're trying to boss people around here, as if it has always been their turf. But I'm not exactly rolling in it right now, and the Crayterians have a simple job. Capture any Outcast, deliver him back to Pecos for questioning, get the cash. Piece of cake for someone like me, don't you think?
With that, Kyle jumped down into the pilot's seat of his battle scarred Sabre and sealed the cockpit. The man he spoke to remained standing on the floor next to the ship. In a few moments the engines of the Sabre came to life, and the man took a dozen of steps back, still looking at the ship of his friend as it took off and headed towards the blast doors leading to the launch bay. "Someday there won't be a miracle like in Hudson to save your behind, Cross."
Distant past,
Sitka asteroid field, Hudson,
Liberty Navy Squadron Lambda
- Lambda-2 and Lambda-3, stand by. Lambda-4, on me, we're going to Atka.
- Yes, sir. Forming up on you.
Two Guardians split from the group and diverted course, leaving the asteroid field. Kyle lost the sense of time as he watched the icy planet slowly growing larger and larger in front of him, until eventually there was nothing else in his view but a wall of icy rock behind the atmosphere. That's when the serenity was interrupted by a sudden incoming transmission from the carrier. At first it was just a bunch of static, but then Kyle recognized the voice of Norman, the flight control officer that he knew from West Point times.
- ... Lamda-1, do you read?.. Lambda-1, respond!...
- We read you, Overlord. Got some interference, probably an ion storm or the asteroid field messing with the comms.
- ... Could be... ...couldn't contact Lambda-2... Need you to investigate... over.
- Orders received, Overlord. The interference is getting worse. We'll rendezvous with Lambda-2 and 3 and return, over... Overlord? Overlord, do you copy? Damn, I lost the signal. Cross, we're going back. Comm chatter to a minimum, there's something wrong about this whole thing.
- Roger.
The ships turned around and headed towards the asteroid field. As they flew in silence, Kyle wondered what might've happened. There wasn't supposed to be an ion storm, and asteroids never messed with the comms quite like that. As the two Guardians approached the rendezvous point, Kyle saw nothing, no other ships, or so he thought until the scanners picked something up... metallic debris among the rocky asteroids.
- Cross, get your weapons ready. It is... was... Lambda-3. I'll try hailing the carrier again.
- Y-yes sir... But I don't see an escape pod... What could've happened? Do you think the Rheinlanders...
- This is LNS Guardian to all fighter squadrons. Rheinland forces have attacked the Lambda squadron in Sitka asteroid field and are engaging the carrier. Our long-range comm satellites are down, and we're dead in the water. Bravo squadron, proceed to Texas and alert South Fleet Command. All other squadrons, converge in sector 3D and engage the attackers.
- Lambda 1 to Overlord, we read you and are on our way. We found Lambda 3 debris, but not the escape pod.
- Good to hear that you're ok, Lambda-1. A squadron of Rheinlanders ambushed Lambda-2 and 3, probably with the intend to capture the pilots. Lambda-3 was destroyed, but Lambda-2 managed to reach the carrier. Now the Rheinlanders are covering their tracks. We're launching all squadrons, but we'll need all available help, ASAP.
- Got it. Cross and myself are on our way.
"It's going to be a mess," - Kyle thought.
Not so distant past,
Oxygen asteroid field, Tau-29,
Kyle Cross, freelancer from Barrier Gate
- Finally, something on radars... What do we have, hmmm? Outcast, check. Fighter, check. Name... Isabella Llorens. Female, check. Doesn't matter though, she'll end up on Pecos before I can introduce myself properly.
Kyle has been waiting for a target by that jump hole to Tau-23 for hours, and an opportunity finally presented itself. With a chuckle he turned on all the ship's systems, becoming visible for the Outcast, if she even bothered. Apparently she did, because she stopped charging the cruise engines. Knowing that the Outcasts were usually skilled pilots, Kyle didn't take any chances and unleashed a barrage of laser bolts on a hostile Sabre. As he saw the opponent's shields going down, his bravado got the better of him, and he hailed the Outcast.
- Sorry, lady, it's nothing personal. It's just that the Crayterians want the Outcasts to pay for their crimes. That includes you.
- 'Criminal' is a relative term, and I don't consider myself as such. And if anyone's going to pay, it's you for your audacity.
In a slight, almost non-perceivable move the Outcast Sabre barely dodged the incoming shot from Kyle's Mini-Razor and danced out of sight.
"Now that's going to be fun," - Kyle thought, as he made a turn of his own to find the pesky Sabre again.
Kyle woke up in an escape pod. Judging by the sensor data, he wasn't in open space, so someone must've picked him up. He paused, thinking back to how he ended up where he was. The result wasn't satisfying: he didn't know. So he tried to reconstruct the past events. He remembered the fight around the LNS-Guardian. He and Lambda-1 arrived when the dreadnought was already surrounded by Rheinland fighters. The leader ordered him to focus on his target, cease firing and dodge when fired upon, and not to let any Rheinlander drag him into a one-on-one duel. All these pieces of advice were logical: Rheinlanders had faster and more nimble fighters that packed almost the same punch as Libertonian ones. Not to mention that they were experienced pilots.
Things went worse when Rheinland bombers showed up and launched torpedoes. Kyle had to disengage the fighters and try to save the carrier from being obliterated. At least hitting small torpedoes was easier than hitting large fighters, because torpedoes didn't dodge and return fire. With torpedoes taken care of, Kyle tried to return to the fight, but that's when Lambda-1 was shot down, and Rheinlanders focused their fire on him. Kyle had to evade, and he couldn't do anything when another wave of torpedoes headed straight for the dreadnought. He didn't even have time to think about all his friends back on the ship, as he was too busy fighting for his own life now.
The Rheinlanders forced him away from the main battle, and it was only a matter of time before a stray plasma bolt could end his fighter. Steering it was already problematic. Then suddenly the green Wraiths ceased the pursuit. Kyle could only guess why. Maybe the reinforcements from Texas came? In that case he was saved! The radar indeed showed allied green dots at a rapidly increasing distance - Kyle was still flying away on instincts. He tried hailing the Libertonian ships, only to notice that his comm system got damaged in the fight. Intent on turning the ship around, he pulled the joystick, but the ship didn't respond to commands. Probably the thrusters were malfunctioning. The green dots were disappearing from the radar one by one.
Turning off the engines and thrusters was easy, but inertia still carried the fighter towards the asteroid field. To Kyle's horror, he couldn't do anything about it. Help was a few minutes' flight at cruise speed, but his own ship was carrying him in the opposite direction. Kyle hoped to save his ship, but as he saw a large asteroid appoaching rapidly, he hectically pushed the "Eject" button. The pod was shot out of the ship moments before it crashed into the asteroid. The last thing Kyle heard and felt before passing out was the explosion that'd push his ship further into the field.
- Came to your senses, pilot? Took you long enough. - the voice brought Kyle back to reality. He was in escape pod, and he didn't know where the pod was. - W-who's that? - Kyle tried to mask his fear with the exhaustion of a person who's just returned to his senses. - A friend, if that's what you're worried about. The name's Carl Greaves, I'm a.. merchant from Liberty. - How did you find me? - I just ran across your pod not too far from the Texas jump hole. Heard there was a huge mess here. A Libertonian dreadnought got spaced, a few survivors made it out in one piece. I assume you're one of them? - Yeah. - Kyle replied curtly. There was no point in lying, his escape pod was marked. - Right. I guess I'll make a detour to drop you in Texas on my way back to Coronado, if that's ok by you. - N-no... - Kyle himself was surprised to hear himself say that. He didn't even know why he'd say that, but it felt the right thing to do. - No? I thought you wanted to return to the Navy. Look, I ain't no taxi, I won't be hauling you back to West Point, I'll be going straight through California. - I'm... not asking for that. In fact... I'd rather get off at Barrier Gate.
Not so distant past,
Known cargo hold
Kyle woke up in an escape pod. Judging by the sensor data, he wasn't in open space, so someone must've picked him up. He paused, thinking back to how he ended up where he was. The result wasn't satisfying: judging by the hum of the ship's engine, he knew exactly who had picked him up. And no reconstruction of the past events was necessary.
- Why am I even still alive? - Kyle asked the question, although he feared that he already knew the answer. Since the moment when he could barely keep his ship facing the Outcast while he was being shot at from behind, he knew that he was horribly outmatched. And the Outcasts do take prisoners.
- Murder is bad and unproductive. That, and I do have to pay for my ship's repairs. - Kyle knew what that implied, but his captor's next comment was even worse: "By the way, your pod's air supply was damaged, so I routed some of the oxygen from my ship's life support systms. Don't mind the scent, you'll get used to it on Malta."
Kyle knew what the scent was referring to as well.
