Free Fleet Box Set 2

by Michael Chatfield

  Connolly stabbed his attacker's neck twice, the man grabbed his neck and fell to the ground. One of the bulkhead defenders was turning with their weapon. Connolly dove as the Commando behind him put penetrators in them, gore exploding everywhere. Plasmid weaponry was out as it came down to hand to hand. Someone stabbed at Connolly's head. He rolled just in time, but the attacker kept coming, making him roll more and more.

  His back hit something solid and the attacker moved, a look of triumph on his face. Connolly chucked his knife at the soldier’s optical nerves, and the man screamed as the plasma ate his face away. Connolly grabbed the crude sword his attacker had dropped, and he brought it up and changed directions, dragging it through another Commando's abdomen.

  A commando was just too slow getting their blade out as a Syndicate trooper charged them. Connoly hurled his blade at them, making the trooper raise his arm against the blade. The Commando’s blade came free and across the would be attacker’s front, leaving a gash through it.

  The Trooper seemed to look at their wounds in confusion as their legs went out from under them.

  Connolly looked for more attackers, but his Commandos had done a good job. The squad medic was already going through the wounded and dead. Connolly lost three people. He looked away, anger filling him.

  “You three give me a hand,” he said, pointing to Dofo and two of his fellow Avarians. Connolly braced a wall, the other three adding their shoulders too.

  “One, two threee,” he grunted, and the wall shifted, seeming to pause for a second before it toppled.

  “Move up, Commandos,” Connolly yelled, making sure they could see his spattered white and black.

  “Commander, you're going to want to see this,” one of his squad members said from the bridge.

  Connolly jogged back, grabbing his rail gun. On the main plot there was a fourth formation emerging from jump.

  “Fuck,” Connolly said.

  ***

  Captain Poshu looked at the mess that was Captain Lord Foshunti's fleet and the Free Fleet's. He was three hours flight time from them. He rubbed his hands together, letting out a small hoot of victory. He been expecting to be add his forces to a triumphant Foshunti, now it looked like he would be saving him, which always meant more bounty. Plus, aiding Lady Fairgate would make him look good in her eyes, while Foshunti's status would fall. He had taken the majority of Rosho Station with him. He only had two Dreadnought's and seven Battle Cruisers, but he had fifteen Destroyers, thirty five Cruisers and eighty nine Corvettes.

  “The results of the poll are in, they agree that higher gravity speeds will get us there within two hours,” Broscht said, in his droll bored tone.

  “Miull, take us in,” Poshu said, rubbing his hands in victory again. “Get me Foshunti on the line,” he said, sitting back in his chair.

  The extra gravities of thrust made Poshu move in slight annoyance, but it was worth it for the possible prize. Foshunti appeared minutes later. He still had a few minutes lag, which was going to make the conversation annoying.

  “Who is this?” Foshunti said, in his silky deadly way, which sent a shiver down Poshu's spine.

  “Captain Poshu with a raiding party from Rosho,” Poshu said, unable to keep his gloating smile from his face. Foshunti's face changed a few minutes later looking rather annoyed.

  “Why are you all the way from Rosho, Captain?” Foshunti asked, relaxed despite the chaos Poshu could see. He must be as crazy as the rumors say, Poshu thought making a mental note to watch out for Foshunti.

  “Lady Fairgate sent us to render assistance,” Poshu said, time lag taking it's sweet time.

  “We do not require any assistance,” Foshunti said.

  “When Lady Fairgate tells me to do something, then I do it,” Poshu said, shrugging his shoulders. He was starting to like this situation less and less.

  He paused the video channel.

  “How long until we're in missile range?” he asked tactical.

  “We're in missile range, twenty minutes until we're in optimal,” was the reply.

  Poshu opened the video channel but Foshunti cut him off before he could speak.

  “Very well. I will bring the first half of my fleet which is not boarded and take control of your fleet. Then we will run over these scum and move to their worlds, turning them to lifeless husks and taking what we desire.” Foshunti's eyes seemed to dance in sadistic pleasure.

  Poshu didn't care for burning worlds. Slaves were more useful alive than dead.

  But Parnmal was a prize many times greater than any planet.

  Parnmal by itself would make him one of the richest people in the Syndicate. The possibility that there were other worlds of space-faring species made him clomp his mouth together as he salivated in pleasure.

  “Yes, Captain Lord Foshunti. Of course,” Poshu said.

  Chapter - Fragile Trust

  I saw the third wave of ships come in.

  “Jam the fuckers,” I said as Vort bent over his table, In Sook doing the same. He could take care of the general broadcasts, while she could get the Commandos to cut off the laser and specific band signals.

  “Bring the Fleet around behind the Second Fleet. We want a blockade. Marleen, launch sensor missiles. I want to know what the hell we're facing. Resilient get me Heston.” Ben was firing of course changes as Milra piloted and I felt Resilient moving beneath me.

  “Commander?” Heston said.

  “I want the fighters going in silent. Have the carriers launch them towards the enemy,” I said. The fighters had been waiting for a few hours now. There had been no sense in risking them when our people were aboard the ships they'd be hitting.

  “Understood.”

  Had Foshunti played me? Got me to send out my people, then bring more forces in to attack us? I didn't get much time to think about it.

  “Foshunti's on the line.”

  “In the conference,” I said, already out of my seat and walking to the rear.

  “Looks like I'm not the only one that trusts the wrong people,” Edwards chimed. My anger flashed as I looked at the man. He looked back at me calmly, which pissed me off even more.

  You have more important things to do at the moment than beating the snot out of him, I thought as I opened the conference room door.

  Foshunti was on the screen as I stormed into the room.

  “What the fuck?” I asked as I saw Santos come into the feed.

  “From what I can tell, he didn't know Commander,” Santos said.

  “I'm getting his safe-code,” Resilient said through my implants.

  “Thank you. Commander Santos,” my voice still brisk as I looked to Foshunti.

  “I have a plan,” he said, and I felt a disgusted look coming across my face.

  “Of course you do.”

  “You're not going to like it,” he said.

  “Of course I'm not,” I growled, taking a breath, instead of bashing the seat in front of me against the bulkhead.

  “I've talked it over with Captain Poshu. It seems that Lady Fairgate didn't trust me to just kill you. She sent me another force to assure victory. She really wants to have Earth under her thumb for some reason. Anyway I can get my fleet into the midst of his and destroy him from the inside out,”

  Or unite you with your comrades and fuck me, I wanted to say.

  “Okay.”

  “I'm going to have to have your Commandos stand down and let my people take their positions so that I can fight my ships,” he said as I sighed, looking at the floor.

  I thought about what I would have done before Marhtu’s betrayal. I would've trusted Foshunti. Now I needed guarantees.

  “Commander Santos, ask your techies if they can modify missiles, on every ship,” I said, looking up as Foshunti’s face creased with of understanding and horror.

  “Commander, I don't think that..,”

  “Not that long ago I wouldn’t have thought it was necessary, but then I saw what a hell hole this Universe is. I might be
fighting the hard fight, but I'm not going to fight it by being an idiot anymore,” I snarled, my fists crunching the top of the chair.

  “We can have missiles across eighty percent of the ships,” Santos said.

  “Do it. Once they are in place then you can join with the other fleet. Santos, make sure my orders are carried out,” I said, looking into his visor.

  “Sir!” His tone was hard as he clanked his fingers to his helmet.

  “Good man,” I said, my expression lightening as I saw the complete trust in the man's eyes.

  I cut the channel, coming out of the conference room.

  “Foshunti's forces will be moving out to the enemy. They're going to play Trojan,” I said, getting some odd looks as I got into my seat.

  “He's going to pretend he's one of them. Then attack them from inside,”

  Rick gave me a look. I didn't acknowledge it as I checked the plot for where the fleet was moving, as well as the reports from the ships which had been able to stop the jamming. I was going through when a name popped out at me.

  George Everez, KIA.

  I opened the video recorded from his mecha cam. George was leading a Platoon to take a Destroyer. Two Commandos had run through a corridor, not checking it. Rounds clipped them, George pushed them and got into cover. A grenade rolled down the corridor. There was no time. George rolled onto it, he rose up four feet as it went off. The Commandos took the position but the medic upon getting to him registered him as KIA.

  I sat there, a familiar feeling of not only loss of a life, but of control filling me. It was like being in that room on Daestramus again. I lived and watched as people that believed in me paid the ultimate price. They had been brilliant people, people with dreams, a future, and in a second it had all been taken away. I looked to the reports, burying myself in information, and my sadness and anger only grew. I read until I finished them. I needed to know everything my fleet was doing in order to keep as many as possible alive.

  ***

  “The weapons are in place. You can move your people around. Anyone messes with the missiles and the ship goes up,” Santos said, his voice like granite as Foshunti nodded.

  “Very well,” Foshunti said, looking to his communications officer.

  “Delphine, bring us up to yellow. Darshoo, open the doors,” He said to Delphine's brother, who was his tactical officer. The twins were driven individuals and had the ability to be calm in any kind of situation.

  “Sir,” Darshoo said as warning lights flashed.

  “Take us towards Poshu's fleet,” he said as his nav plotted a course and helm carried it out.

  Foshunti watched on his screens as people raced out of their quarters. It was a matter of minutes before his bridge was a hive of activity instead of the quiet graveyard it had been before. While the Free Fleet had a shortage of people with the right knowledge and training. Foshunti had been able to pull from across the Union. His ships were fully crewed and then some. Ravasham or Rav, the Commander of the Air Group got to his desk to Foshunti's left. It was a large circular area, a desk in the middle and controllers around him to feed him information, or send it out to the fighters officers.

  He cycled through his screens as people arrived at their stations. Fighter pilots were getting in their crafts already, running their start-up tests as the carrier fighter crews did their own checks. Once the positions were secured and everything was confirmed as good the departments reported they were ready. The other ships were ready by the time Talhalla was. First Fleet fell in around him as he threw up a hologram in front of himself, manipulating it with his hands, he created a formation based around his own fleet.

  He transmitted the orders to Poshu. Now all there was to do was to wait to get into position.

  ***

  Captain Ilator had been in a number of fights, though none of them had been like this. The enemy had known every move they were going to make, they had known where they were going to come from. Which ships should be where. They knew too much. Though he and the rest of the Syndicate forces had only been given that information a matter of minutes before they had transmitted. All of it coming from Foshunti.

  He looked to his screens, and saw his crew was losing badly. His Troops were beaten. The enemy had been grouping right where the first shuttle had come down. The Commandos had killed them before they could even get their mechas on. Someone had to have told the enemy. Yet Foshunti was the only one that had contact with them.

  “It was fucking Foshunti, it has to be,” he said as he looked to his plot.

  Foshunti was now moving to the incoming fleet. If they could kill the Free Fleet then they could help the Syndicate get control of their ships again. That ray of hope turned to dread as he realized that once Foshunti was in amongst them they he could take control of them and lead them right into the maw of the Free Fleet. He needed to get a message to them as soon as possible, possibly one that could lead to a rescue.

  “Send a message to the incoming fleet,” he said, and his comms officer started pressing buttons, then did it again, and again.

  “I'm jammed, I can't,” he said as Ilator growled. Foshunti was four steps ahead of him.

  He scanned through his screens looking for something. He found the shuttles and he typed in an override code. An officer of the syndicate always had a way out. While it didn’t allow him to fire missiles or use the other weapons it meant that he could take over the shuttle and use it to broadcast a warning. Foshunti was just getting in amongst the new fleet.

  “Open the shuttle-bay doors,” Ilator said and someone did so. He used the controls on his chair to fly the shuttle out. He sent it careening towards the new fleet as he typed a message and had the shuttle send it on all channels. Once it got far enough away from the jamming then it would be able to punch through to the new fleet. It was a simple message, all it said was; Foshunti has betrayed us. He's working with the Free Fleet.

  ***

  Foshunti was part way through the enemy fleet which was shaped in a U formation. Santos was checking over his forces as Delphine looked up in alarm.

  “A Syndicate shuttle just broke free from the formation,” she said, the main plot splitting in two. On the bottom it had the simple words; Foshunti has betrayed us. He's working with the Free Fleet.

  “We have a request coming in from Poshu,” Delphine added.

  “Looks like the game’s up. Please ask Commander Salchar if he minds us firing on the unoccupied Syndicate ships,” Foshunti said.

  A few moments later Salchar was on the screen.

  “Santos, I trust you,” Salchar said simply, cutting the channel.

  Foshunti looked to Santos.

  “I believe you are the one to tell us to fire or not,” Foshunti said, a hunger in his eyes, like that of a greyhound that wanted nothing more but to be let free and race.

  Santos opened his face plate, a hunger for his enemies’ blood shaping his snarl.

  “Send those fuckers to the dark.”

  Foshunti's grin turned hungry.

  “Bring the Fleet to red and give the order to fire. If you don't mind, Darshoo?” Foshunti said.

  “Please, Captain,” Darshoo said.

  Foshunti stabbed a finger down on his control panel.

  Missiles leapt from Talhalla as fighters spat out from her at an incredible rate.

  Foshunti hadn't just moved the fleet to give him a spot in the middle. He'd had them get nice and close, close enough that Cruisers, once pierced would take out more than just themselves. He'd had the Cruisers move all across the formation, acting like massive bombs. Darshoo had coordinated Talhalla's fire to use these Cruisers.

  “What's the status of our shields?” Foshunti demanded.

  “Online and functioning at one hundred percent,”

  “They're firing,” another person said. Santos was left wondering how someone was ever able to fight their ship, let alone a fleet of them.

  “Defensive fire is holding. Xein has been hit, Poatul is rolling,�
��

  “Shields down to eighty on the bow,” Talhalla was rocking slightly now. Santos rolled with the hits, catching someone as they nearly fell.

  There was a large shock as the ship rocked again.

  What damn idiot made something powerful enough to rock a damned fortress like this? Santos thought as a flurry of symbols interacted on the map in front of him. A private channel from Salchar opened in his mecha.

  “Sir?” he said, as a panel blew out and someone screamed as they got hit.

  “How is it there?” Salchar asked.

  “Messy. Shit’s exploding,” Santos told him, remembering who he was talking to “Sir,”

  “I'm a Commando, son. I don't give a crap about swearing. How is Foshunti?”

  “I don't know sir. He's concentrating on fighting Poshtu’s ships,” Santos said.

  “Should we send in support? Take into account that our people could die,” Salchar said as Santos stood a little taller.

  “Yes sir. It shows were ready to fight together.”

  “Very well, Commander. Thank you.” Salchar cut the channel and Santos looked to the main plot as signals came alive.

  “What the hell?” Darshoo asked as Foshunti's eyes also opened in surprise.

  “They’re Free Fleet fighters,” The CAG said. Santos didn't know his name.

  “What are they doing?” Foshunti asked. There was no hiding the nervousness in his voice. If the fighters came in now, then he could very well lose. Even Santos could see that.

  “They're asking for permission to join the net. They're raking Poshtu’s ships!” The CAG said, shocked.

  “Well, we’d best make sure that they don't out do our own fighters,” Foshunti said, his eyes and mouth settling into a grin.

  The CAG used the fighters bringing them down on the nearly hundred Corvettes. The bigger ships were pounding Poshu's bigger ships.

  “There's an incoming transmission from one of Salchar's lieutenants,” Delphine said. “On screen.”

  “Rolling. Port side shielding is failing.” There was no sensation of rotating at all as Cheeleader appeared on the main screen. “My squadron has been released to assist you. We're under your command until the end of hostilities.”