Matilda nodded along as he spoke.
"Well, the Star Empire now controls the entire territories of the Anicinàbe and the Byotai, including all remaining ships. And it seems they've been busy for years building new designs with similar tech to our own."
"Your point being?" Spartan demanded.
Lieutenant Commander Holder could see where she was going, and her expression altered as she listened.
"The Ensign makes a good point. The Star Empire cannot lose this campaign. If we win the battle, they still control all of their territory, and can make up their losses and try again in a year, or ten years. If they win, then it is all over for us."
Spartan now smiled, they could tell it had been a ruse form the start. He knew all of this without speaking to them. It must have been a test of sorts.
"Okay, then, so we're in the same place. We know what's at stake. Now let me tell you about something that will really spoil your day."
As he spoke, a large projection of the massive orbital shipyards appeared. Nearby were a number of large warships, with several moored alongside the colossal artificial structure.
"We believe the Star Empire has sustained greater losses than previously thought. Alliance surveillance confirms the majority of their ships are heading to the border."
He licked his lips.
"But I don't think it's an invasion. I think it's a..."
"Diversion," said Nate.
All eyes turned to the youngster.
"Exactly," said Spartan, "They are stripping forces from across their new territory and sending everything to the borders."
Nate looked at his friends, but when his eyes reached Valdis, she simply nodded and indicated towards Spartan.
What? She wants me to say more?
He looked back to Spartan, who seemed about ready to continue.
"They want us away from somewhere else, where something more valuable is being prepared."
"Finally," said Colonel Gun, as though the wait had been killing him.
Spartan pointed to the projected model next to him.
"So, now to our mission. This is the Beithir Primus orbital shipyard, and it is home to advanced warships under construction."
So that's it. They attack us to keep us busy, while buying time to finish whatever it is they're doing out here, Nate thought.
"The shipyard is nearly two hundred kilometres in diameter and makes the Titan Naval Station look like a cookie."
"The what?" Valdis asked.
Spartan looked positively stunned that the Byotai pilot had never heard of the Alliance's infamous station. It was more than just one of the biggest in the Alliance; it was also the scene of the opening battle a generation ago, back before even the birth of the Alliance. More important, it had been Major Spartan's baptism of fire, and the beginning of his long and colourful career.
"The largest Naval base in the old Alliance. That's not really the point, though."
He took in a breath, and Nate watched him carefully. The man exuded confidence, but he seemed to be watching them all for a sign. Perhaps wondering if they were up to whatever scheme he had planned.
"I want you to help us launch a coordinated strike against the Beithir Primus orbital station."
Valdis and her two Byotai comrades almost choked at hearing that. Spartan noted every reaction and looked to Colonel Gun who gave him a knowing nod.
"So...you know of it?"
Valdis now seemed confused.
"Know of it? Of course, it is the most significant military asset in the Empire. We listened to stories as children about the great fortress, and how it is the heart of the Empire. It supposed to be impregnable."
Spartan laughed at that.
"Well, the Star Empire control it now, so maybe not. Today it is their primary shipyard, and our mission is to hit it, and hit it hard. I want you, Ironclad Squadron to help me attack the facility, cripple anything they're working on, and destroy their ability to reinforce any deployed fleets."
Gun watched each of them as Spartan continued, checking for signs of doubt or fear. He found none.
"Our fleets are days from the greatest ship battle of our time, and if we lose, we lose big time. And if we win, we'll have whatever they're building at this facility to deal with. All we know for sure is that they are expending a considerable fortune on ships, and the biggest and most powerful one of all is being assembled right here. After we're exhausted by war, this new fleet they've been building will move in, and nothing will be able to stop it."
Spartan placed his hand directly on the shipyard.
"It's a new world, people, and in a few more months we'll no longer be the apex predator in this part of space."
Nate spoke before any of the others could answer.
"We're with you, Sir. We can get your pilots ready for the mission. Just tell us what you need."
Spartan chuckled.
"Good. Get some food inside you. I'll speak with your Commander and get things moving. We live in interesting times."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Alliance Assault Carrier 'ANS Victorious', Behind Enemy Lines
27 December 2472
Nate's closed his eyes and tried to visualise the target they were about to attack. There was a single station, and it was very heavily protected. They didn't know it, but he'd already played this scenario before, although it had been over a year since then. It was known simply as Terra Nova Three, but the name merely disguised the fact that it was the third scenario based on the Fall of Terra Nova. Nate hadn't been alive during that action, but it was one well known to every citizen in the Alliance. The mission was a nasty one, and if he remembered correctly, the last time they'd fought it they lost every single fighter. Commander Higgins was running the simulation, and he waited out on the operations level along with nearly three-dozen fully trained IAB Marines.
Are they serious, they want us to train them?
Nate opened his eyes and looked out from the small control suite. He could make out the shapes of the troops, and every one of them looked older, tougher, and more serious than he'd ever been in his entire life.
"Pilots, out here."
For a second, Nate wasn't entirely sure if the Commander was talking to him, but the pause quickly forced him to his feet. Cassandra was already heading out and stopped alongside the Commander. The others filed out, leaving Nate to be the last one on the deck.
"Marines, these are the pilots of the Ironclads."
Nate expected laughter or some kind of sarcastic joke, but instead the marines looked at them in silence.
"Lieutenant Commander Holder should be known to you all. Her exploits are well established."
Several of the marines nodded in the affirmative.
"The three Byotai are the remnants of Furiosa's fighter complement. They've been fighting since this trouble started."
He walked past them and stopped in front of Nate.
"And these four..."
Again there was the pause, and Nate held his breath.
"These four are Academy cadets, civilians to all intents and purposes."
Nate opened his mouth to object, but Matilda shoved her toe into his heel, causing him to yelp.
"These four are the expert simulator pilots we spoke of. Before the fighting started they were gamers, and damned good ones. After that, they controlled the drones aboard my ship, the old carrier Relentless. And now this Squadron has fifty-one confirmed kills."
The marines appeared stunned at that news, and even Nate found it incredible to hear. Then the images of his lost friends popped into his head, and refused to leave. First up was Jack, and then came Fletcher, the most recent loss. Even Dogg, the Byotai pilot lingered in his thoughts, a constant reminder of the dangers they were in.
"It's not been a cakewalk, either. They’ve taken losses, and had eight fighters shot out from under them."
Nate was surprised to hear that. The Commander never spoke like this to them, yet he knew the numbers, and as he s
poke, it sounded as though the battle had taken place just hours earlier.
"They may not be the well-trained regulars that you are, but they are damned fine pilots, and they've chewed over the same ground as the rest of you. Now...show me your best."
Without making a sound, a group of eight marines stepped out from the group and waited smartly at attention. A ninth, a Marine Sergeant moved to their flank. He was completely bald and older than everybody else on the deck.
"Sir. These are my best. They've logged over a hundred hours on our training system. Half of them have already commanded drones in battle."
The Sergeant's eyes shifted a fraction to look at the young pilots, and then back to Commander Higgins. Nate wasn't sure, but the more he looked at the veteran marine, the more he was convinced the man was laughing at him.
"I will be commanding the fighter component of our mission as CAG, and I need to see what each of you can offer me. When this simulation is over, we will reorganise the fighter units in this fleet accordingly. This is a test of your piloting skills, and of your ability to plan and improvise."
He turned to Nate and his friends.
"I believe that after this, you will agree with me that these pilots have what it takes to move you to the next level. They will not show you how to be pilots; you can already do that. They will show you how gaming skills and thinking outside the box can transform your perception of the battlescape. And trust me, I've seen the mission."
His eyes narrowed as he looked at the marines. He'd already gone through their paperwork and knew each was as good as it came for fighting on the ground. But not one of them was a pilot, and less than half had even completed the full drone control fighter course. And unlike them, he knew what that course was all about. It was nothing to do with what Nate and his friends did. It was all about recreating the role of the pilot, electronically. The Ironclads had proven time and time again that there was a lot more to drones than that.
The eight marines looked at Nate's Squadron, and at least two of them gave him an upturned lip. The speech from Commander Higgins was nice, but the marines didn't seem particularly impressed so far. When he looked back at the larger group of regulars, he cleared his voice.
"Now, I know many of you have your doubts. I don't blame you for that. These pilots are basically kids, but I think they can do more than you can ever imagine."
He then placed his hands at his hips.
"Even so, I do not have the time or the inclination to change your minds. Instead, you will do it for yourself. By the end of this simulation, you will understand, and we will plan and practice for our new operation. Any questions?"
Nate's attention was on two of the larger marines, both of whom kept giving him an off look.
What is that? Are they laughing at us, at me?
One marine stepped forward.
"Sir, I have one."
Commander Higgins nodded.
"Go on, Corporal."
"What if you're wrong? My marines have been in battle more than once, and we know what we're doing. Have we really got time for...this?"
He nodded towards Nate, without even bothering to lift a hand. Commander Higgins did well to hide his irritation.
"Yes, I am sure. That is why we're doing this, for you, and for me. I have a mission to plan, and I need to see what assets I have available in this fleet."
There was silence on the deck, and Nate sensed the tension.
"Let's give it fifteen minutes. If after that you're not convinced, we'll change our strategy. Acceptable?"
The Corporal nodded.
"Yes, Sir."
"Good, to your places, then. Let the battle for Terra Nova begin."
Both groups moved to their allotted positions inside the control suites. Nate dropped down into his, and a crewman held the straps, before placing the web interface on his head. Nate's heart pumped as he made himself comfortable sitting in the control suite, along with Valdis, Billy, and Lieutenant Commander Holder. There was enough space for a dozen of them, but for now it were just his friends and him. The marines would use their own space for the purposes of this scenario.
"Have you used one of these before?"
Nate shook his head, and the man sighed.
"I see. Close your eyes and wait until I give you the command. When you want to come out of the control trance, use the code you put into the system. Understood?"
Nate nodded, but as the man moved to Billy, he wondered quite how good this system might actually be. He'd heard of the interface before but never expected to use the military version of it. He'd already read through three different journals on the technology, and the one that worried him the most concerned nausea. Apparently, a percentage of the population just couldn't handle the disassociated feeling that came with using the state-of-the-art technology.
Too late now.
It didn't take long for them to be ready, and Nate closed his eyes as the man said. There was nothing, just blackness, yet Nate was sure he could feel a chill on his arms. He wanted to open his eyes, but one thing he knew was that these virtual presence and virtual reality systems needed was cooperation.
"Pilots, prepare to launch."
It was Commander Higgins, but there was an echo as though he was inside a large command room. Nate knew that on most ships, the CAG would actually stay alongside the ship's captain and other senior officers. Sometimes this would be on a bridge, and on other ships inside the CIC. Nate took a breath and then opened his eyes.
Wow!
The view was perfect, and even when he turned his head it was exactly as it should have been. He reached out to the cockpit and could fill the physical shape, the controls, and the panels.
It's just like they said it would be.
A flash ahead caught his attention, and he looked over the smooth nosecone of his fighter. It took a second for him to realise that this was a Thunderbolt Fighter Bomber, but a much older pattern than he was used to. It was all about curves, and in many ways looked so much more elegant than modern craft. He could see the others lined up along his flank. The spacecraft were a good deal larger than the Lightning fighters, and a multitude of warheads hung from hard points along the raked back wings. The engines were considerably bigger and bulkier than those on other fighters and reminded him of a more fragile version of the Bulldogs they now used.
What a beautiful thing.
The area of space might have been anywhere else, apart from the spread out groups of ships. Readings on his computer system showed a massive celestial event right behind him. Nate didn't need to look to know that was the Rift back to Proxima Prime and the other worlds of the Confederacy. Today, it was one of many, but back then it was discovered quite by accident, cutting the journey time in the Confederacy by days, instead of closer to a year.
"Okay, Ironclads, report in."
Nate narrowed his eyes and spotted the Lieutenant Commander slightly ahead of the v formation.
"Ironclad Two standing by."
He said the words without thinking, and one by one the others did the same. Another flash to the front drew his eyes down to the planet. It was almost perfect, though from the subtle colour changes along the edge of the planet's atmosphere it was being procedurally generated.
"Okay, Ironclads. Stay in formation and follow me in."
Nate opened his mouth to answer just as a massive warship thundered on by. It was a good five hundred metres away, but from his position looked as though it was going to crash into him. Its flanks burned from hundreds of holes, and flames trailed it as it dropped towards the planet.
CCS Crusader!
The ship was legendary, even to somebody as young as him. Back in the war against the Zealots, it was one of the first in battle. The ship fought as the flagship of the embattled Confederacy, only to meet its fate over the burning skies of Terra Nova. Nate could already see there were changes in the basic scenario, therefore rendering a historical outcome unlikely. The station was in a much higher orbit, and the
number of defending ships larger. He checked behind, noting the Confederate ships numbered more than a dozen, meaning they were still slightly outnumbered, though they had the more powerful ships of the line.
"Okay, squadrons. Transports are preparing to drop, but the station is defending access to the planet. Its long-range guns will vaporise any attempt to bypass it. Our ground forces cannot land until it's eliminated or disabled. This is your first attempt. Suggestions?"
Nate licked his lips as his mind raced through the various options. They were flying into a massive battle, and he knew that historically the station was destroyed by the suicidal crash of a ship. That resulted in the loss of Crusader and many hundreds of crew who couldn't make it to the lifeboats.
What if we can do the same for the loss of just a few dozen lives?
Nate started to speak, but it was too late. The marines had got there first.
"Understood," said Raptor Leader, the name the marines used for their fighter squadron, "Recommend a ground assault on the station. Thunderbolts will hit it from range, then draw their fire, and give time for the marines to land."
A cruiser exploded far in the distance, breaking into two equal parts and drifting apart. Nate couldn't tell which side the ship was fighting for, but he did know that in this era the ship carried several thousand crew, most of whom would now be dead.
Think. What do you do?
"I want to destroy the station," said Nate, finally saying what he knew had to be done. Commander Higgins hesitated and then answered.
"Maulers will take another twenty minutes until they're ready."
Raptor Leader answered immediately.
"Then we will launch an attack first, resupply, and then escort in the marines."
"Very well."
Nate wanted to intervene but knew that was not the point of the scenario. This was a test of both leadership and piloting skills. The marines would never listen to them if they thought they were no better than them, and why should they?
"Raptor Leader, this is your mission. Good luck."
Star Crusader: Battle Fleet Victorious Page 14