Chapter 3
Mars Orbit - Ares Naval Shipyards
February 28th, 2279
Trainees Redding
“Cutting it a little close. Still, I’m impressed you’ve all made it on time.” Steiner’s nasally voice came in over the radio. The two Switchblades had made it to the coordinated they’d been given by Ares Control just shy of eight thirty.
“Welcome to hell, Blue Group. Redding, Beasley, you are Blue One. Vermanov, Drake, you are Blue Two. Your mission, and thus your test, is to survive. That is all. Good luck.”
“What? That’s it? Survive what?” Sasha asked loudly in irritation.
“Shyla, I’m showing targets inbound. No IFF signature,” Nate said suddenly, sitting up straighter in his seat.
“What? Can you get a make on them?”
“No, I’m being jammed, but let me check,” he adjusted settings on his equipment, “yeah, being jammed by them. They don’t want us to know who they are.”
“Blue Two, you seeing the same thing we are?” Shyla called out to Sasha and Stefan.
“Roger than, incoming unknowns. Recommend elevated defensive posture.”
“Acknowledged,” Shyla changed channel. “Ares Control, do you see unknown inbounds? We’re not getting IFF signature and radar is being jammed by local source, please advise, over.”
Static crackled over the radio. “Blue Two, I’m just getting static from Ares Control. Can you get anything?”
“Negative, Blue One.”
“I guess we’re on our own.”
“All we have to do is survive,” Nate said. “We were never told we had to play fair.”
“What do you have in mind?” Shyla asked.
“There’s a nice little asteroid field about three thousand kilometers from here. If those unknowns are what I think they are, they’ll follow us in there. Then we can make them fight on our terms.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she switched the channel, “Blue Two, you see the asteroid field? We’re going to head there, make the bastards play by our rules.”
“Roger that, Blue One. We’re right behind you, this time. Don’t forget who your allies are.”
“Enemy of my enemy is my friend. Don’t worry, Blue Two.” Shyla gunned the fighter for the field, the wings folding in tightly across the hull. Sasha’s fighter fell into formation as they made a run for the field.
“Yup, they’re following alright. I think they figured out what we’re doing, they’ve picked up their speed.”
“Blue One, they’re increasing speed. I think we can safely guess what they’re about.”
“Roger that.” Then to Nate, “We have any weapons on this crate?”
“Really now, Shyla, what type of EWO would I be if I didn’t make sure we were armed at all times? Funny thing is, it was all pre-loaded. And it’s all live ammo.”
“Great.”
“I have a tone!” Nate shouted abruptly.
“Are you kidding, from this distance?”
“No joke! Two fast-movers, inbound. Good lock. Shyla, get us into those rocks and lose them.”
“Sasha, stay with me!”
“Roger that!”
The two fighters burned into the field. Shyla started pulling her Switchblade into quick fast maneuvers trying to lose the missiles, the three wings changing position to match the maneuvers. She marveled at the maneuverability of the Switchblade, how quickly it could move. Sasha kept right with her, mimicking the moves or pulling opposite ones to compliment hers. The missiles were long-range, but quickly lost lock in the rocks and Shyla saw the explosions of light in her rear display.
“Bastards are using live ammo as well. Guess there’s no second try on this one. Don’t let me down, Nate,” Shyla said.
“Just worry about the flying. I’ll handle the rest.”
“You got it.”
“Shyla, they’ve caught up,” Sasha warned over the radio.
“That fast? What the hell are they flying?”
“Trying to get a scan,” Nate said, concentrating from the back while Shyla pulled them into a tight roll over an asteroid.
“They’re trying to split us up, Redding
“Think you can handle yours?”
“Don’t know unless I try,” she said after a moment, her voice strained from a high-performance roll.
“Ok, you go left, I’ll go right. Split
“Roger.”
“Two!” Shyla shouted as she threw the fighter right. Sasha banked hard left. The two unknowns split and followed.
“They’re trying to lock onto us again Shyla,” Nate said with a beeping tone coming from his headset.
Shyla flipped the fighter around, stalling momentum, and shot right at her pursuer. They were caught off-guard for the one-eighty and swerved off hastily. They clipped a rock, but only enough to scratch the paint and break the positioning light. Nate took the opportunity and launched several mini-missiles in their direction. They evaded just in time, using the rock as cover. The asteroid exploded sending debris outward.
Nate whistled, “Holy crap, Shyla. I got a good look, and those boys are playing with some expensive toys. “
“What are they?”
“SF-22E Daggers.”
“What, the single-seaters? Aren’t they supposed to be too hard to fly?”
“Apparently they’ve fixed up the AI on those puppies. They’re keeping up with us easily enough.”
“I guess this is the time to show them what a pair can do. I’ll bring them back into view for you.”
“Let’s do it. We be rollin’,” Nate said eagerly.
Shyla flew around some rocks trying to line the Dagger back up again. Nate kept calling out their location and forwarded the data to her tracking display. The pilot was good, his nose always stayed pointed at Shyla, always out of standard orientation, no matter which direction he was flying. Shyla copied his style and maintained the position, staring back at him. Shyla’s fingers flew across the manipulator, changing the ships geometry to quickly adjust positioning, getting used to the unorthodox orientation style of space combat. She was travelling nearly two thousand kilometers per second through the asteroid field pointed side-ways. Her ship would flip, dive, climb, and dodge rocks floating in her path, but she never let her nose move away from her target.
Nate wasn’t idle during the chase either. His opponent would launch missiles any open chance, and Nate furiously worked to block them. He also returned fire. But the stalemate continued.
“Starting to run short on warheads, Shyla. We’re going to need to close range and get him with the mass driver.”
“Been waiting for that, he should be low on ammo as well. Ok Nate, we’re moving in. Hold onto your butt.”
With a roll, she maxed out the power and shot straight for her aggressor. The Dagger seemed to be waiting for the maneuver and dodged out of the way behind an asteroid. Shyla didn’t take the bait and instead came around from the other side. The Dagger was prepared for that too and fired missiles their way.
“Shoot the rock!” Shyla yelled.
“Nate simultaneously let the mass driver loose while moving the polyhedron shield to block the incoming missiles. The asteroid exploded showering the Dagger with debris. Shyla smiled as she saw the small ship punctured by small chunks of rock and gas starting to escape, but the smile was gone as quickly as it had come. Nate hadn’t been quick enough to completely block the second missile, so he’d just diverted it instead. The missile came close to the back end of their fighter when the warhead detonated. Immediately, warning lights blared across her controls.
“Aw shit, I’m sorry Shyla!”
“Don’t lose it, Nate. What’s the damage?”
“Not too bad considering. We’ve lost some of our thruster packs, and looks like a secondary air tank. We should be able to make it back to Ares, though.”
“What about our friend?”
“He’s dead in space. Looks like life-support is still functioning, but that’s it.”
“Alright, they can come get him, we’re heading back. Sasha, you still alive?”
“Barely, got the bastard though. They took a chunk out my tail. I think Stefan is hurt, too. We’re heading back.”
“We’ve taken damage, but no injuries. Our bogey is down. Heading back to Ares.”
“Acknowledged.”
“Shyla, the jamming’s cleared up,” Nate said. There was a crackle on the radio and then Admiral Steiner’s voice, strained and tired.
“Well done, Blue One and Blue Two. You’ve passed my test. I didn’t think you’d be able to out-fly me so well. If you wouldn’t mind giving me and my Captain a tow back to Ares?”
“Sir, that was you in the Dagger?” Shyla asked shocked. Nate let out a barking laugh.
“The test was to see what you would do under real combat conditions. I’d say you both passed, but only if you get me back.”
Sasha returned first to Ares Station, getting Drake into the medical bay. A close call had damaged the outer wall of the fighter and had knocked a piece of equipment loose that had hit Stefan in the head. It was a minor concussion, but he’d be alright. Shyla and Nate pulled the Admiral in, while a rescue craft pulled in the other. Michaels was waiting, looking highly worried, at the airlock.
“I didn’t know a thing, until after you were already out there. I couldn’t tell you anything. But you did well,” he told Shyla as she and Nate exited the airlock.
“It’s ok, we made out far better than the Admiral,” Nate said as they watched Steiner being wheeled in on a wheelchair, his right leg and right arm broken from the asteroid impact.
“Congratulations are in order, I think,” Michaels continued after Steiner passed by. “You’ve both, along with Vermanov and Drake, graduated from Trainee and been promoted to Lieutenant. Other than that, and most importantly, you’ve been assigned to Project Eclipse. Other than that they haven’t told me a thing. Apparently, it’s a high-priority, top-secret project. A career-maker for certain. I wish you all the best of luck,” Michaels finished with some relief, and at the same time consternation. “I have to return to Deimos for the rest of the cadets, so I won’t be able to see you off. Give Sasha and Stefan my best regards.”
Shyla could see that Michaels was trying to fight his emotion. She felt rather embarrassed. Nate just wore his big grin and shook Michaels’ hand. Shyla followed suit, and both saluted. A yeoman came a moment later and retrieved Michaels.
“Lieutenant’s Redding
“Yep,” Nate said.
“Please follow me. Admiral Steiner and Captain Willis are waiting for you.”
“Captain Willis?” Shyla asked.
“Admiral Steiner will explain everything in detail,” the yeoman deferred.
“Right,” Nate said.
The yeoman led them through a long series of hallways and elevators. Ares station was massive, and getting from one place to another was difficult. To help people find their away around, color coded letters were marked above every hatch letting one know what section, level, and floor they were on. Shyla and Nate were lost about halfway through the trip.
“Right in here,” the yeoman finally said, ushering them through a hatchway.
Inside was a well-furnished room with wood desks, and shelving lined with green plants. The air smelled less filtered. Steiner sat with his foot propped up on a cushion and his arm in a cast. Sasha and Stefan were already there and standing at ease, Stefan had bandages wrapped around his forehead. Shyla didn’t recognize the other man in the room, but assumed it was the aforementioned Captain Willis.
“Ah, here they are. Captain Willis, I’d like to introduce newly-risen Lieutenants Shyla Redding and Nathan Beasley. And now everyone’s assembled. Beasley, please close the hatch.” Nate did as he was bidden sealing them in the room.
“What do you people know of the Forerunner missions?” Steiner looked at them hard.
“I know they came to a disastrous end. Something about terrible accidents over twenty-five years ago,” Nate said.
“That’s correct. And since then, we have not once tried to launch a Forerunner mission. That has now changed. The time has come to once again send off a Forerunner. This time however, things will be different. The forerunner will not be going out alone. That was the mistake that was made last time. A ship, so far away from home, all by herself, anything could have happened to her, and we’d never know. This time, she’ll be going with escort. The escort is the 67th Special Fleet commanded by Captain Willis here,” Steiner gestured to the man in the corner. “You four, along with others from the other academies, have been specially chosen to accompany Captain Willis on this important mission. If you so choose.”
“Chosen for a Forerunner mission? Are you joking?” Sasha laughed. “Forerunners of old would last for decades. And the last of them never returned home. This is like sending us to a death-sentence. Why would we want to do such a thing?” Stefan just nodded lamely, his head still aching. Shyla actually agreed with her.
“Because this mission is being seen as the highest of priority missions by UTF Command. Because it will guarantee that any and all family will be taken care of for the rest of their lives, and when, not if, you return, you will be well compensated,” Steiner said a little shortly.
“Compensated how?” Sasha pressed.
Steiner waved his hand in disgust, “Promotions, monetary compensation, whatever you choose. Basically you’re getting a blank check.”
“All we have to do is go on this mission, see its success, and come back home?” Nate said dubiously
“Exactly,” Steiner said missing Nate’s tone altogether.
“Right. Sir, may I have a moment to speak to my pilot?” Shyla was surprised when Steiner waved them out and Nate grabbed her arm all in a single moment and pulled her out of the office.
“Shyla, this is crazy. But still…I want to do this. Only, I’m not going to do this if you don’t go. There’s a real chance we won’t come back from this, so I didn’t want to say anything until I knew your feelings on this. I feel this is a chance we shouldn’t pass up.”
“Nate, you won’t see Earth again for a very long time. I know it’s already been a while since you’ve been home. Are you sure you want to go?”
“Absolutely. Home is home, it’ll always be there. But this chance won’t come around again.”
“I have nothing holding me back,” Shyla started to say, but quickly changed tact. “If you want to do this, then I will come along.”
Nate nodded, and they went back into the office. Steiner looked at them impatiently. “So, have you decided yet? Sasha and Stefan have decided to go.”
Shyla was surprised they had decided to go. Sasha must definitely be trying to prove something. Nate nudged her with his elbow, obviously telling her to announce it.
“We’ve decided we’ll accept the offer. When do we start?”
Steiner clapped his hands, “Excellent! You four start immediately. The Switchblades you were flying in before were actually meant for you. They’ll be repaired and ready to go in the morning. From there, you will take them to Captain Willis’ ship, the El Oso. It’s a newer Warhawk Light Carrier, the flag of the 67th. Captain Willis, you can tell them the rest.”
Willis cleared his throat. “Welcome to Project Eclipse. You’ll transfer to the El Oso tomorrow, and then will run drills and practice maneuvers with the other wings to get used to the other pilots and become accustomed to ship operations. We leave in April, so you have until then to memorize ship layout and become acclimated to life there. We will arrive in Europa in late April, early May, and will meet up with our Forerunner, the Eclipse. We will then escort her throughout her mission. Are there any questions?”
Shyla actually had hundreds, but none that she should probably ask. The others looked the same.
“No? Alright then,” Steiner picked up. The yeomen outside will take you to your temporary quarters for tonight. Tomorrow you’ll transfer over to the El Oso. Your personal belongings are already being brought to the El Oso from the Deimos station. Welcome again to the Project.” Steiner saluted from his seated position, but Willis came up to a full salute. The four pilots saluted as one and left the office.
When they left, Willis turned to Steiner, “Sir, if I may, I’m still not sure about using raw cadets in this mission. We should have experienced pilots on board.”
“I understand your feelings, Captain, but the experienced pilots are too old. This mission could last decades. If we put experienced pilots on the ship, the monotony of endless training could get to them, making them useless. You’ll have to make due with the Hellhounds.”
“But we’re only doing this with pilots, what of the rest of the crew? Many are older than I am.”
“True, but they are not under the same level of stress as star fighter pilots.”
“Sir, combat stress is the same for everyone.”
“Captain, no more on this subject. This is how it is. I believe you have cargo loading to oversee? You’re dismissed, Captain,” Steiner said as he waved his hand. Willis sighed, saluted, and left.
March 5th, 2279
Mars Orbit – Ares Shipyard Dock 114
Warhawk Class Light Carrier El Oso
LTs Shyla Redding and Nate Beasley
“Ok, so when they told me this was going to be career enriching, I should have known it was going to be bullshit,” Shyla complained. She looked over another battery and threw it into the discard pile.
“I think this is rather rollin’,” Nate said as he flipped a battery into the keep pile. “Old Earth history, back during World War I, fighter pilots had to inspect all of their shells, because they weren’t made well, or were scrounged up. If a bent one made it into their gun, it could jam it up, and they’d be screwed. Here we’re checking life-support batteries. About the same really.”
“Ah great, at least I know I’m stuck with a history expert on bullshit. Thanks professor,” Shyla said irritably.
The first day on the El Oso had been what they expected: a new assignment on a cushy new carrier. Then day two had crashed in on that dream. The ship was run by a skeletal crew still, with new people still trickling in. Half the technicians and mechanics weren’t on board yet and the ship was awash in bugs, malfunctions and everything from plumbing problems to electrical meltdowns. She and Nate had had to clear out their own fighter’s berth because it was being used for storage, and Chief Engineer Grimes hadn’t gotten his five maintenance crew around to cleaning it out yet. Shyla’s beef wasn’t with Grimes, or his crew. It was with the man in charge of personnel for the El Oso. Shyla didn’t even know who that was, and she doubted very highly he was even aboard. But this mess was definitely his fault.
Nate stood abruptly and saluted. Shyla followed suit out of reflex before looking at who she was saluting. When she finally saw her, she almost dropped the salute. The Commander had come around a corner and was walking past them. She was small, and young, probably younger than Shyla. She wore a strange shoulder patch as well - she wasn’t part of the fighter or bomber wings. Nate coughed slightly, always one for attention from the ladies.
“At ease, uh,” she said scanning his overalls for his nametag.
“Beasley, ma’am,” he said quickly. “And this is my pilot, Lieutenant Redding.”
“Nice to meet you,” the Commander said holding out her hand. Nate took it. “I’m Commander Haley Odell. Squadron Leader for the Exo-Armors.” Shyla looked her over appraisingly as she shook her hand in turn. She was definitely a few years younger than Shyla, and she had an exotic look to her. She was small, but athletically built; she could probably run rings around anyone on board. Her long auburn hair was tied up into a ponytail and hairsprayed to keep it in place in microgravity.
“I hear you’re the squadron that’ll be keeping the El Oso out of trouble while we’re out patrolling,” Shyla said carefully. She didn’t want to insult Odell if she couldn’t help it.
“That’s right. If the damned things work. They’re buggier than half the electrical systems right now,” she said with irritation in her voice. “Right now, one of them is stuck in the holding cage. Have you seen Chief Grimes by any chance? I need his help getting it unstuck.”
“Nope, not recently,” Nate said with his big stupid grin. Shyla rolled her eyes while Odell wasn’t looking.
“Thanks anyway. Nice to meet you. See you around,” she said as she jogged off. Nate watched her go his eyes trailing parts other than her back. Shyla whacked him in the back of the head.
“Knock it off; let’s get back to sorting batteries.”
“Right boss,” he said slightly embarrassed, but grinning all the same.
The rest of the day wasn’t much more entertaining for the pair. After sorting batteries, they had flight formation training with the rest of the squadron. They met up again with Sasha and Stefan, who had made a complete recovery. They were both assigned to the rookie squadron as was Shyla and Nate. They found out that the other rookies picked from the other academies constituted the rest of the Flying Fox squadron. Fox squadron was one of many onboard. Wasp and Yellowjacket squadrons held other rookies. The formation flying was dull and boring, and turned out to be the monotony of their lives for the next couple weeks.
They also found out that there was an elite squadron aboard, called the Hellhounds, and that they had no respect for the rookies at all. Some of the hazing was fairly bad. One of the EWOs from Earth had awoken one morning hogtied and naked. Nothing had been done to her, but the threat had been real enough. The Deck Boss wasn’t aboard yet so no investigation had been made, and beyond that, no complaint had been filed either. Instead, a Hellhound member found herself with a severe case of food poisoning the next day.
The back and forth continued until tensions between the two squadrons were at an all time high. Shyla had even found herself the recipient of the hazing once, but Nate had jumped in just in time. Since then, they’d had no problems, but the rest of the squadron wasn’t so lucky. Sasha found her hair dyed bright green one morning. In return, a Hellhound was put on sick leave due to extreme rash of the genitalia. No one was quite sure how Sasha did it, but she wasn’t bothered again.
Finally, the rest of the crew arrived. Both of the last two squadrons arrived, the huge chevron-shaped bombers.. Shyla noted that they were comprised of all younger pilots. With the exception of the Hellhounds, the pilots were all fairly young and inexperienced. Shyla couldn’t help but wondering at the choice. Beyond that, the Exo-Armor squad was practically a group of children. The running joke was that maybe one or two of them had hit puberty. One girl even seemed to be still a child; she couldn’t have been older than twelve. And yet, the seven of them, with their Commander Odell, controlled the most advanced machines in the UTF Navy. Shyla could only think she was being punished and sent to this circus parading as a Special Fleet. She laughed at the thought, “special” was definitely the right term.
11-24-07
And then there was Commander Ben Farnost. He was the CAG, Commander of the Air Group and was a real piece of work. The man was grizzled and rough with skin that made leather look like silk and although he was pushing fifty, he was more fit than most of his pilots. He also hated them. He made no effort to hide his disgust for any and all people that were under his command. Rumor had it that he had been apart of one of the last Forerunner missions twenty-five years ago but had been reassigned shortly before the ships left and had never forgiven the Navy.
Farnost had arrived on the El Oso the second week after Shyla and Nate’s arrival. He flew a Jericho
Unfortunately for the rest of the pilots, Farnost didn’t stay quiet about anything else. He had taken over like a fanatic dictator and everything was his way or no way. He’d even gone so far as to step on toes of the maintenance crew. Chief Grimes was so infuriated by the man that he’d threatened to take it to the Captain. Farnost had just laughed at him. Since then, Grimes and Farnost would never be in the same place at the same time. The pilots, on the other hand, weren’t so lucky.
Farnost went ballistic when he learned of the hazing going on and then the show was officially over. He ran them so ragged that any thought of hazing never even entered their minds. He ran his pilots mercilessly: CAPs, drills, simulator time, training, preparation, ship maintenance; the list never seemed to end. Shyla was kept so busy, she lost track of time. She hardly talked to Nate at all in anything more than reports and communication chatter during flights. When her shift was over, she’d just return to her bunk and crash. She wasn’t alone. The Hellhound squadron was starting to grumble about tyrannical despots and mutinies.
By the time the El Oso was ready to depart, Shyla was seriously scrutinizing her decision to go there.
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