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Chapter 1
The four Salamander fighters roared
overhead in a low pass saluting the recent graduates. The freshly promoted
Second Lieutenant Jonathon Eldon looked up at them. His heart leapt with pride
and excitement. Clutching his dispatch papers and graduation roll he began to
relive the same day dreams that had got him through the bad times here at the
academy and a spur for the endless testing. Being a fighter pilot in the
"Service" had been his dream and ambition since he was a small youth
growing up on the Agri world of Rowlatt, staring up at the blue sky on a warm
summer’s day dreaming of dog fights and medals.
"Hey John!" A familiar
voice cut into his reality. Looking across the "Quadrangle" he saw
her walking towards him.
Lieutenant Claire Doolan, his bunk
mate smiled as she drew near. Her blue eyes sparkled in the sun light with a
youthful playfulness. They had been billeted together for three years now and
had become nigh on inseparable, she was always on his wing and he was always on
hers.
"Did you get your orders
Freya?"
Freya was her pet name for him; she
said that his snores were like the sounds of a dying Freya night beast. He
never quite believed her, nor knew how she knew what a dying night beast
sounded like but had grown to like the name.
"Yes indeed. 51st."
He smiled broadly "Stationed on the Valkyrie.
What did you get?"
"53rd on the Hercules. I'm shipping out in two
hours." She shifted her eyes down to the grass below.
A wave of shock washed over him. He
and Claire had been friends for so long, from day one at admissions through
every test they had flown on each other’s wing and been such a major part of
each other’s lives that he couldn't imagine being separate from her. The 53rd
or Ace of Spades was a prestigious assignment as well, their commander
Lieutenant Colonel Jenkins was almost legendary pilot among the Academy
freshmen and indeed the whole Fighter service, but not as prestigious as the 51st’s
commander Colonel Wallner, a highly decorated and accomplished officer who was
the poster boy of the Fleet and Jonathon’s hero. He had been exceptionally
honoured to find he was assigned to be on the same ship as him but now, without
Doolan at his side it made the assignment ring hollow and meaningless. All
thought of glory and achievement lost under the dark waves of loss and regret
as if his arm had been cut off. It was only with the possibility of losing her
that he realised how much she truly meant to him.
"That was fast." He
managed to murmur after a few moments.
"Yeah I know." She tried
to manage a half smile. "Something about fleet movement into the Oberon
Sector and needing the best pilot for the job!"
"Then surely..." he began
but stopped, looking her straight in the eye he smiled "They have chosen
well."
She punched his arm lightly
"Don't get all mushy on me Freya."
They grew silent and started walking
to the dorm. "Are you all packed?" His voice was tight and lacked its
usual light heartedness.
"I don't think in the three
years I've been here I've unpacked everything." She said wistfully,
"Anyway, all that crap in the dorm is yours!"
They laughed again and he put an arm
around her shoulder.
"I'm going to miss you
Doolz."
Her step faltered and her eyes
rolled up to meet his, a touch of remorse nagged her features.
"Going to miss you too
Freya." She half whispered. “I know it is not in your nature but… Stay out
of trouble, ok?”
Charlotte sat on the end of her bed,
her kit bag at her feet. How could her entire life be fitted into such a small
bag? The room lay bear save for a book left casually in the middle of her bunk.
The Room's emptiness seemed to
resonate around her and permeate her soul. Amy, her roommate and best friend
had shipped out that morning. She had been second top of her class and received
promotion to the cruiser Hercules. It was a prestigious assignment. Second
Navigational officer on the Command ship of the Zosen sector.
Charlotte hadn't wanted to see her
go. Where ever there were pranks her and Amy had started it. Where ever there
was a party her and Amy had planned, publicised and starred in it. Amy was the
brash out going one, Chalotte the insular studious one but when she was with
Amy she had become a mirror of her charismatic nature and was one of the twin
stars at the centre of their own galaxy.
Her three years here had been a
rollercoaster ride of dizzying highs and crushing lows. She had fought and won
the title of "Top of the class" and majored in Astro navigation with
a ground breaking study on Quagor Nebulonic formations. A theory so complicated
she had managed to dazzle her lecturers with guess work and supposition.
A brief smile played across her lips
as she remembered Doctor Cubb's face as she argued the point he was making
failed to stand up to the laws of physics and then proceeded to explain to the
aging professor, who had dedicated his life to the study of this field, that
the basis of his ideas was:
A) Dated and flawed by current research, and;
B) If the "Presumptions" were
followed by a crew in the field they would all end up dead.
To her surprise he agreed -to an
extent- before sending her to report to the head of the department.
She fidgeted, pushing her light
brown hair behind her ears and scooped up her muster sheet again. There was no
need to read it, she had read it four times, had committed it to memory but
found solace in reading it one last time.
"1st Lieutenant Charlotte. M. Bell Navigational
officer first class - Report to chief navigator Harkins aboard Valkyrie in 48
hours (0900 27-4)
Shuttle 0745 departs Rantru academy 16.00 25-4"
Short but simple. She glanced at her
watch. 14:55. With a sigh she stood up and scooped up her bag and book. How
could her life feel so light?
Approaching the door she turned to
take one last glance around at the gunboat grey walls and metal bunks. She
could hear her and Amy laughing; the sound resonated and seemed to escape from
the walls. She smiled gently. The room had been so full of life now lay in
state.
"Good bye Room." Her voice
was soft and tinged with remorse.
Forcing another smile she flicked
the light switch plunging the room into darkness, save for the white glow of
the door, which slowly faded to black as she closed it.
One chapter ends, however much you
loved it, another begins.
Admiral Cylix stared out of the
window of hi spacious offices at the top of the academy at the cadets who were
celebrating graduation and packing their gear for departure and at those still
on training drilling out on the parade ground. He had been Chancellor for many
years, too many years really. The flower of youth below were the best they
could be, the best the Fleet could ever hope for.
“You are taking the best recruits
I’ve ever seen Michael, you know that don’t you? You had better not be getting
them all killed or sent on a fools errand.”
Admiral Michael Stimson regarded the
star maps on the situation report table. He had brought them here to get his
old mentor’s opinion on his audacious plan for glory, glory he knew he deserved.
Those fools in central command had overlooked a golden opportunity. Since the
human Empire had reached N'kell space they had stopped. The original
exploration vessel that had opened up the way to the Galactic core had returned
with comprehensive intelligence reports and many encounters.
Captain Bond had engaged the same
flotilla of N’kell defence craft time and time again but had never been
defeated. This alien "Menace" was obviously a paper tiger and not
worth worrying about. Stimson looked at the Zosen gap. His superiors had
worried their heads over this patch of space and millions of credits had been
diverted to planetary defences but the answer was much simpler than that. A
battle group under the more than capable Vice Admiral Oaten would smash through
the door and the whole rotten structure would collapse.
Oaten's fleet was the most powerful
reconnaissance force put together, mainly from the Zosen defence force. Twenty
heavy cruisers with the cream of the navy and fighter force all led by the
flagship Vengeful.
The N'kell didn't stand a chance.
A second fleet to be led by Stimson
would follow up and mop up survivors. The rewards for Oaten and himself by a
grateful Parliament and Emperor would be far reaching. Glory and wealth would
be his forever and the Human Empire would move another step towards greatness.
“It is perfect Franz, you’ve seen
the plan.” He stood and pointed at the map as if they held the key to everything.
“After the first engagement the fleet will disperse and take the key systems of
VLR 207 and VLR 338 thus removing their ability to produce ships and I will
spear head the attacks on their energy production on VLR 109 and then move to
take their home planet. Of course it won’t come to that.”
The old Admiral moved from the
window and over to the star charts one last time and stared through them
blankly. It all looked good on paper but he had seen it all before.
“Where did you get your intelligence
from?” he asked dryly.
“One of our agents.” Stimson
answered with growing irritation. “I think her name was Underwood.”
“Is it a good source? Do you trust
the agent’s recommendations and observations?”
“She comes well recommended. Her
service file is exemplary and she has been on deep cover so long that the guys
at Intel didn’t remember her but admitted she was on the system so must be one
of theirs.” He handed her file over to Cylix to browse over. Truth be told he
was worried about the Intelligence report as well. It seemed a lot to base an
entire strategy on.
“It does seem very perfect doesn’t
it?” Cylix muttered placing the report back in the file. “This agent files a
report just as you gain command of the Zosen sector fleets and the reports from
Captain Bond are declassified by Internal Security.”
“What are you driving at?” Stimson
was losing patience with his mentor. He had come all this way for his blessing,
for him to look at the plans and say “Good work, go to it!” but all he had got
was questions, questions of competence, questions of why?
Cylix scoffed and turned back to the
windows and the warm sunlight that touched his face. “I have seen a lot of war
and of death Michael. I have seen my good friends taken away, ripped apart by
fire or sucked out of hull breaches as I tried to pull them to safety. I would
not wish it on anyone else, least of all the young cadets you are taking from
here. I fear you may be opening up a Pandora's box that once opened will cost
many thousands of lives and for what gain? Do you think that we can penetrate
the Galactic core? Gain the ultimate power source? Do you think any of it will
make the slightest difference?”
Stimson had heard enough, he scooped
up his reports and began rolling the star maps for storage in the sealed tube
he had brought. Clearly this had been a waste of time and the old man had lost
his nerve and will for battle. “When did you get old Franz?” he muttered under
his breath.
“The day I watched my crew die.”
Came the hushed response from the window. The loss of Kraken was required reading on several syllabus’ across the fleet
training manuals. It had been an epic disaster that had seen an entire
Cruiser’s crew wiped out save for a handful of bridge officers who by mere
fluke had been off ship inspecting the new defence grid being built at Quatora
IV. The Alien vessels of unknown origin had dropped into normal space, made two
passes at the warship and then jumped out of the system again.
Cylix had stood aboard the defence
platform and watched helplessly as his ship had been torn apart in a matter of
minutes. They had known where to attack and what to damage first and left no
one alive. Those glowing orange engines of the alien vessels had haunted his dreams
ever since and completely changed the way he thought forever. The deaths had
laid on his conscious, he knew his presence would not have changed things but he
had felt as Commanding officer he should have died with them. The
psychotherapist called it Survivor’s guilt and Post traumatic stress syndrome
and put him on lighter duties as a Staff officer moving files for a senior
officer. He had kept his head down and worked hard but had never taken to the
fleet again. It was how he had ended up here, teaching and finally overseeing
the education of others. It was strange that he was sending others out to do
the work he could no longer do, to fight and possibly die leaving him behind
helplessly watching again from the sidelines but there had been no war for a decade
and he had been proud to send the best and brightest people out to excel in
their fields but now it looked like that it had started again. He watched his
protégé demonstrating the latest plan and the vessels he was directing and all
Cylix could see was a list of future memorials rolled up with star maps and in
the arms of a dead man heading out of the door.
Stimson paused by the door, his
anger and disappointment abating for a few moments. “Good bye Franz.”
The old Admiral looked up with a
wizened smile and nodded at his former protégé. “Good luck Admiral, I hope to
see you and my cadets back soon. I have buried too many in my time already, I
don’t want to have to bury you as well.”
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