Battleship Furiosa

by Michael G. Thomas

  Nate's eyes opened wide as he listened. He'd only served aboard Relentless, and that was only for a few months. At no point had he ever thought his life might be forfeit if he did the wrong thing, apart from when he was already in the cockpit.

  "Second. You will follow my orders, and those of Commander Higgins to the letter. Any sign of deviation and you'll be sent to the Byotai brig, for your protection and ours."

  Nate shook his head.

  Wow. That's harsh.

  "And third. This mission is critical. No matter what happens, we have to fight alongside the Byotai, whatever the cost. There can be no doubt in the fight to come. If any of you are unable to comply, turn around now."

  She paused for a few seconds and then continued.

  "Very well, then. Follow my landing pattern and come in at ten-second intervals. The Legion Class ships use an unusual landing approach; so make sure you stick to my commands. Don't try and be clever."

  "Understood, Sir," said Matilda, "We've actually operated from on board her sister ship in simulation more them fifteen times."

  "Very good. In that case you can go in first."

  Nate chuckled to himself as he waited for the reply from his friend. Matilda was the least impressive of the pilots in terms of individual skill and innovation, but she flew by the book, and he suspected she knew the landing procedure so well she could land with her eyes shut.

  "Understood, Sir. Happy to do that."

  He nodded to himself, a little proud of the fact that one of his friends was so sure of herself. It said a lot about the unit of videogame pilots.

  "Very well, form up and lead us in."

  "Sir."

  The fighters split apart from their wide formation and into a long column with plenty of space between them. Matilda began a circling motion as she made for the front of the battleship. With time to spare, Nate gazed upon the hull of the vessel and exhaled slowly.

  She is a beauty.

  Unlike other ships in the Byotai fleet, this one bore the colours reserved to those few ships that escorted the Imperator. The standard fleet colour was black, a colour used uniquely by the Byotai in battle. Nate recalled that only a dozen or so ships were coloured in this manner, the Red Star being the most famous. It was a mark of Imperial favour to bear the grey and gold.

  "Sir, do we have landing permission?" Matilda asked.

  Before anybody else could answer, the robotic voice of the flight controller filled the cockpits of the fighters.

  "This is Furiosa. Landing permission granted to Knighthawk fighters."

  There was a slight pause, and then a final few words that sounded equally solemn.

  "Welcome aboard."

  Nate laughed to himself as he heard the words. They might have been trying to be friendly, but the translator system developed by Alliance technicians was still poor at detecting and passing on emotions and inflections.

  "Follow the landing vectors. You have six bays cleared and marked for your fighters."

  The two bow structures extended outwards, with large monofilament wings extending out like feathers. He knew from experience that these parts of the ship hid the massive mass drivers. These weapons hurled large projectiles that could batter through multiple layers of armour with ease. In simulation, he'd seen them cut a Liberty Class destroyer in half with a single volley.

  She is a beast.

  Nate banked to the left and lined up on the projected landing lights. The glowing dots showed the exact path he would need to take to land inside the vessel's cavernous interior. As he made the changes, he noted markings on the upper side of the ship that served as a reminder of the horrors that had befallen the once proud Empire. Streaks of black and a massive indentation showed where the vessel had sustained a concerted bombardment. No attempt had been made to cover up the damage. As his eyes moved along the hull sections, he gasped. Hundreds of smaller holes covered plating, and entire outer plates were now completely missing.

  "Are you seeing this, Sir? Is she able to operate with this kind of damage?"

  The Lieutenant Commander answered instantly.

  "We have assurances from her officers that she is one hundred percent operational. Any damage you see is superficial, nothing more."

  Nate acknowledged and turned his attention to the centre of the vessel. The inner hull sections were coloured in a dull tan, with glints of gold in places. Armour bulkhead sections were light grey, in direct contrast to the golden inner sections. Finer details were picked out in dull orange, especially in ridges along the top of the hull and around the main control tower further back.

  "Okay, take your fighter in slow. The shielding will pulse as you travel inside, but it's nothing to worry about."

  As Nate moved into position behind Matilda, he could see the layered hull with its wide tan-coloured sections. The main deck was far behind the bow struts and flanked by the long, smooth grey bone shape sections of hull. Further back again was a second layer, much like a roof to the main deck. Multiple wing segments extended out, absorbing solar energy, as well as apparently giving the ship extra thrust from the solar winds. They looked much like sail fins on a large predatory fish, and for all their beauty, he knew only too well what power was hidden inside the ship. A brief pulse of white marked the thrusters of the first Lightning as it moved between the landing lights.

  There she goes.

  Matilda vanished between the two layers and behind a translucent shield. Once through, her craft became little more than a blurred shape. Nate adjusted his landing approach and then noted the myriad of turrets tracking him. Like all capital ships, Furiosa was well equipped with more than just fighters and long-range weapons. Scores of smaller turrets covered the outer bulkhead ribs and slats with high-velocity cannons.

  "Next one in."

  Nate acknowledged the order and boosted his engines. He applied a little too much and had to reverse thrust a tiny fraction.

  Don't be an idiot. A lot of people are watching this.

  He dropped his forward speed and drifted closer and closer to the ship until he was between the two decks. The flanks were almost completely exposed, giving perfect line of sight for the many more turrets he could now see. These were substantially smaller than the bow-mounted guns, but of a similar size to the primary weapons fitted to the Crusader Class warships.

  This thing is a monster.

  As he looked to the front of the ship, he noticed he was drifting a little too much to the right. All it took was a subtle course correction and he was back on the glide path. Directly ahead lay the mirrored surface of the shield. Marker lines pulsed on his helmet overlay to inform him of the proximity to the landing zone. It was still a zero-g environment, and that surprised Nate. In the simulation, they had been forced to deal with changes in gravitational forces until landed.

  Okay, this is weird.

  Even though Nate knew it was of no danger to him, he still held his breath as the nose of his fighter touched the surface. The pulsing energy shield changed colour, and ripples spread out as though he'd just disturbed the surface of a placid pool of water. Then his fighter pushed through, and with nothing more than a flash he was inside.

  Phew!

  With a landing speed of no more than twenty kilometres an hour, he could take his time, and with a subtle shift the fighter rotated about on its own axis so that he could survey the landing area. At the same time, he activated the landing mode. In an instant the controls altered, with more dampening added and less response to smaller actions from his hands. He had to move the controls twice as much as before for the same outcome, effectively slowing everything down.

  "Incredible. Just incredible."

  Unlike Alliance ships, the entire deck was given over to fighters. Bays on each side held nine fighters, while the space in the centre was kept completely clear for spacecraft to use for taking off and landing. What amazed him even more was the size of the place. He knew from the computer on Relentless that the ship carried eighteen fighters, bu
t he suspected she could carry at least double that number, plus other craft just on this one deck.

  Okay, here goes nothing.

  He moved over his designated bay and then slowed to a halt, rotating a hundred and eighty degrees so that he was facing back to the centre of the deck. Ahead of him was a line of Byotai fighters, each looking large and menacing next to his craft.

  Slow and steady. Small movements and no sudden moves.

  The fighter moved closer to the deck, and Nate began to smile. This was one of the lessons he'd been forced to learn over and over in simulation. It was natural to tug at controls and to react overly fast, but a landing was a calm, controlled affair. Making a sudden move could be all it took to hit a storage unit or clip a bulkhead, and end his life as well as destroying a major asset of the Alliance military.

  Just another metre!

  The counter continued to read down until it hit zero, and he was still moving lower. Nate gulped uncomfortably and checked the downward facing camera feed. It showed the flat deck, but not that the inner section was several centimetres lower. The fighter moved just a little more, and then he felt the impact. It was gentle enough, and the landing skids compressed inwards as they absorbed the downward movement of the fighter.

  Still no artificial gravity.

  The fighter shuddered as a magnetic grav clamp activated and locked it into position. Now secure, Nate deactivated the internal power systems and switched off everything other than life-support. He looked to his left to check on his comrades. Two more fighters were in position on their platforms, but none had exited them yet.

  Okay, now what?

  The fighter shuddered slightly, and then the deck began to move upwards. It took a moment for Nate to realise that his landing pad was descending inside the ship. As they moved inside, he felt a little nauseous. Indicators inside his helmet confirmed the change in gravity as it went from zero-g to ten percent normal, and increasing. The fighter groaned as it began to feel its own weight pulling itself down onto the pad. Then they stopped, and a darkened screen lifted away to reveal the interior of the ship. At the same time the cockpit release activated, and the canopy lifted up to grant him his first view of the inside of an actual Byotai military ship.

  "Welcome aboard, Ensign Lewis," said a nearby Byotai soldier.

  The voice was robotic and sounded identical to the translated tone they'd all heard during their final approach.

  Nate nodded at the warrior as he lifted himself up out of the cramped interior. He stopped and looked about, turning his attention back to the soldier. Only then did he realise that there were two of them, the younger one remained silent and stationary, while the second took a step towards the ladder. This one was bigger, but very different to any Byotai he'd seen before. The bone structure was familiar, but the paler skin and slight build made him look closer to the Anicinàbe clan warriors he'd seen images of.

  "I am Deck Captain Sobiex. I command this part of the ship and will function as your liaison with the crew. If you need anything, you come and see me."

  The officer wore the standard body armour common to the Imperial military, and a heavy looking pistol slung down low on his hip in the human style. He head was bare, though a small communicator unit hung down from one ear.

  He's a big one.

  Nate was hardly a monster of a man and compared to the marines on Relentless he was probably below average height. Even so, next to this Byotai he looked like a school kid. The officer was bigger than Prince Kratha, and his leathery skin paler. He turned and pointed to the cavernous deck that was nearly fifty percent bigger than the one they'd first landed on. It was very well lit, with every single centimetre bathed in yellow light that gave a warm, friendly feeling. What really stood out for Nate was the complexity of the design. Though largely open space, there were raised storage bins fitted along the outer walls attached to a complex rail system.

  "You look confused. Is there a problem?" Sobiex asked.

  Nate shook his head.

  "No. Everything is good, thank you. I was admiring your ship."

  Nate stepped down the ladder, relieved at seeing the expression on the Byotai's face change. It had taken Nate several seconds to realise he was looking at one of the so-called, Half-Bloods. Apparently, there were many families in the Empire with mixed ancestry, but much of that had been hidden from public view. All of that seemed to be changing in this new world of war and survival.

  "Yes, Furiosa is indeed a mighty ship. We are all honoured to be working aboard her. She is now our home."

  Nate wasn't quite sure what else to say and was pleased to see Matilda and Billy heading for him, behind them Lieutenant Commander Holder. They stopped at his flanks while the Captain introduced himself. Finally, he looked back to Nate.

  "You may not recognise me, Ensign, but we met briefly when you first arrived aboard our space station."

  Nate nodded politely.

  "You were involved in the Star Crusader contest?"

  He shook his head.

  "No. I was passing through three weeks before the rebellion began. Some of our pilots watched the first of your public contests."

  Nate tried as hard as he could, but he could simply not place the Byotai. There were so many of them that he had met, and as awful as it sounded, it was often hard to tell them apart. Even so, he was surprised he hadn't remembered such an unusual looking officer.

  "Right. That feels like a long time ago."

  The Byotai paused for a second, and then signalled for them to follow him. All of the pilots were not there, and the little group followed the Captain into the middle of the main deck. He pointed to marked areas on the floor.

  "Normally, we carry eighteen strike fighters in the hangars, with space for another eighteen above us for fast launch. Under stress conditions we can take forty fighters on board."

  He opened his mouth in a strange grin as he watched their faces.

  "She's capable of operating as a battleship, or a heavy carrier. But today we are limited by resources."

  The Lieutenant Commander looked pleasantly surprised, though as she looked around, the lack of fighters became obvious. Far off in the distance there were the dark shapes of cloth-covered spacecraft.

  "And now?"

  The Captain looked up, opened his mouth, and breathed slowly. The pilots waited patiently until he looked back at them.

  "We have four pilots left, and all of them are dark."

  Matilda and Nate knew what he meant, but Billy could not keep it to himself. As usual he spoke without thinking, and had he been a little closer he would have kicked him in the leg to stop him.

  "Dark?"

  The alien officer made a sound that all recognised as a chuckle.

  "Dark."

  Billy shook his head.

  "Yes, I heard. But what does that mean?"

  "Billy," said Cassandra.

  Her tone did nothing to hide her irritation, but Billy was unable to conceal his fascination. Luckily for all of them, the Byotai officer appeared unoffended, though perhaps more than a little amused at the question.

  "They are young and inexperienced. That is what dark means. You see; all Byotai start off dark, only with age and experience does our skin fade, like this."

  He ran his hand along his cheeks, where his skin looked old and faded.

  "Oh, okay. What happened to all the pilots of the Ironclads?"

  It was hard not to cry out in surprise at Nate asking the question. The Captain was not offended, although he did look saddened. They walked on through the massive deck until they were in the centre.

  "We were all there, at Ctenosaura. One by one, our ships were lost, including the Red Star. We presumed all were gone when the order was given to withdrawal. By the time the battle was over, we'd suffered more than a thousand casualties, lost all but four fighters, and all our pilots."

  He closed his eyes.

  "Even as we escaped, we were boarded by shock troops. Most of our officers were lost,
and we sustained major internal damage before fighting them off. Now we are all that remains."

  His eyes opened, and Nate was sure they were glazed over.

  "For all of us, it was the end of the war...and the Empire."

  Lieutenant Commander Holder reached out and placed her hand on his arm. It was clear she knew more about the emotional state of the Byotai than any of them there. Nate and his friends might have fought with Byotai of their own age, but it had been in simulated battles. They had never developed this kind of rapport, and it made all but Matilda uncomfortable.

  "We're sorry to have brought it back to the surface."

  He placed his hand on hers and nodded in the human fashion. Nate felt like he should do something, but as the two veteran officers shared the moment, the rest of them watched on in silence.

  "Thank you. We will not forget the friendship of humanity in our struggle."

  "Captain Sobiex!"

  They all turned around to see Commander Higgins walking towards them, his physical disabilities now barely showing. Nate's heart leapt as he spotted four marines marching behind him. Two were new to him, and one was the massive and redoubtable form of Sergeant Nál. Even at this distance, the Jötnar looked like an armoured giant. The fourth was a lady that was very rarely away from his mind. As their eyes met, she gave him a half wink.

  Private Valentine!

  Nate shook his head and tried to hide his smile. At the same time, Cassandra nudged Matilda and beckoned towards the new arrivals.

  "Look who's here."

  Matilda's brow tightened, but she said nothing, not that Nate was showing them any attention. Right now all eyes were on the approaching group.

  "Commander Higgins."

  The Byotai seemed genuinely happy to see the Commander. Once close enough they embraced in a familiar way. As they separated, the Commander nodded to his four escorts.

  "We're pushed for manpower, but I've managed to get a full Marine Corps fireteam on board, along with the renowned Sergeant Nál."

  Captain Sobiex's expression transformed at seeing the large Marine Corps warrior. To any that had not seen a Jötnar before, it was always an odd situation. They had been created as synthetic warriors back in the War, but since then, and through the assistance of Alliance technicians, more had been created naturally. Initial hostility to the idea had been quickly quashed after their selfless sacrifice in so many battles. There were no more loyal warriors in the entire Alliance. Their numbers were still relatively modest, but they made up for it with brute strength and a surprising agile and adaptive mind.