“No, only you guys!” the air marshal said, spreading his arms out and trying to get a control of the crowd. “You lot head over to that one. The rest of you get back. I only want twelve for this one.”
Looking around, Estelle discovered she had been separated from Kelly and felt uncomfortable not knowing where everyone was. She tried to rejoin the main group of waiting people.
“Hey, where you going there?” the marshal stopped her from leaving. “No time to go back now. In you get.”
The man's hand was on her back, pushing her on-board the transport. Now inside, the hatch closed and locked, leaving Estelle to wonder if Kelly had made it. She felt the engines engage and took up a position on the bench, pulling down the familiar restraining harness over her shoulders. The shuttle was smaller than the ones she had grown used to over the past few weeks and held fewer people. Space on Griffin would be at a premium when compared to Spirit Orbital. Estelle glanced around at the others occupying the transport, at first not recognising any of the faces. She then did a double take.
“Andrea?” she asked in complete surprise.
The curly, blonde haired member of the Red Devils looked over in the direction of the voice and smiled.
“Estelle!” Andrea said, eyes sparkling. “How have you been?” She looked genuinely pleased to see her.
Estelle was stunned at how chipper Andrea was at such a time. “I've been good. Everything's going very well,” Estelle answered.
Andrea's here? At Mandelah? Since when? Estelle wondered to herself. Does this mean that the Red Devils didn't succeed in the evaluation either? Did it go to the other team? She forgot their name.
“Are you based here? I've not seen you around,” Estelle asked.
“No,” Andrea said, shaking her head, her curly locks bumping against her face. “I've been continuing the training and been posted in a number of places.”
That confirmed it. Andrea's team had won. Estelle realised her face was betraying her sense of jealousy. She decided not to ask any more about how the training was going; about how Andrea was getting on flying a starfighter that she should have been; about how praise was being piled on her for her great work.
She did want to know one thing though: “So, what are you doing here?”
“Special operations,” Andrea replied with a knowing confident wink and a smile.
Estelle had heard enough. She sat back and closed her eyes, waiting for the transport to arrive at it's destination.
* * *
Dodds, Enrique and Chaz stood on the flight deck of Griffin, bunched up with several other personnel and crew members that had disembarked from the transport shuttles. The deck of the carrier was massive, spanning close to the entire width of the vessel itself. The adjoining launch catapult ran almost a third of the ship's length, the half octagon shaped tunnel lit at regular intervals as it stretched off towards open space.
The junior OOD instructed the new arrivals to await Parks. As the numbers began to swell the three men were joined by Estelle, and then Kelly. Dodds witnessed a brief exchange between the two and guessed that Estelle was busying herself keeping her team together and focused. His eyes flickered over the gathering of personnel and he noticed a tall woman with curly blonde hair being led away from the main assembled group. Had he seen her somewhere before? His eyes followed her for a moment before he noticed Parks approaching. The assembled group stood to attention and saluted.
“Welcome to the CSN Griffin, boys and girls,” Parks addressed them as transports continued to arrive and unload their passengers. “The ship you are standing on is currently acting as the CSN's flagship in Dragon's soon to be ended absence. This is my ship and I expect you to remember that at all times. You should feel both honoured and privileged to have been given the opportunity to serve aboard this vessel.”
Dodds felt the man's gaze come in his and Enrique's direction as he spoke the last two sentences. He watched the commodore as he began pacing in a small area, hands behind his back.
Parks went on, “As soon as we are up to our full complement we will jump to the Aster system, where we will rendezvous with the UNF's charmingly named twin carriers, Grendel and Grendel's Mother.
“From there we will await the arrival of Dragon and then immediately commence Operation Menelaus. Primary defence and Initial Run teams should be prepared to depart the moment we arrive at our destination. Secondary defence teams,” - his eyes once again flicked in the direction of the White Knights - “should await further instructions. Squadron leaders will be briefed further before our arrival. Additionally a full breakfast is being prepared for all serving crew, so there is no need to worry about going into this on an empty stomach. For now, prepare yourselves for jump.”
With his introduction and points made, Parks departed the flight deck, and the attendants began clearing personnel as part of the jump preparations.
“Have you ever seen Dragon in real life?” Enrique asked Dodds as they were escorted to Griffin's crew quarters.
“Not in real life, only video footage.” Dodds said. “The only thing I know about it is that it's big and has a lot of guns.”
“I've seen it,” Kelly piped up, trotting up alongside the pair in an attempt to keep up with the long strides the two men were making to match speed with the officer leading the way. “And yes, it's big. My father arranged for me to be given a flyby before I joined up.”
“Yes, we know, Kelly,” Dodds said, putting a hand up to his temple. “You've told us about a million and one times.”
“Mate, don't bite her head off,” Enrique jumped in.
Dodds looked at Kelly, seeing her a little incensed by his comment. “Sorry, Kelly. My bloody head is killing me. That shuttle ride didn't help at all.”
“It's your own fault,” Kelly said.
“Yes, I know,” Dodds said. “Okay, so, anything else you can tell us about Dragon?”
“No,” Kelly shook her head. “Nothing that you don't already know.”
“I hope we'll be given a bit more information other than “it's big” before we get to Aster and have to face off against it,” Estelle complained. “A basic strategy would be a good start.”
“If you're talking basics, then how about that Dragon has a maximum crew complement of just under fifty thousand, including starfighter pilots,” a man's voice stated. “And that it can also comfortably accommodate over a thousand fighters in its hangers, without any concessions for type.”
Heads spun around, stunned to discover that Chaz was the one offering up the information.
Dodds caught Estelle's eye, before she looked back at the big man. “What about its weaponry? Defences?” she asked.
“Numerous enhanced plasma and laser turrets and batteries,” Chaz said. “And the entire ship is protected by multiple high powered shield generators; far more efficient than a carrier's or a frigate's.”
“Still wishing you'd asked?” Kelly said to Estelle.
Estelle ignored Kelly and pressed for more information. “What else?”
“It's secondary offensive armament consists of eight plasma accelerators,” Chaz said.
Estelle almost stopped walking. “Eight accelerators?”
Chaz nodded. “Three on the port and starboard, two on the bow.”
Dodds and Enrique swore simultaneously.
Chaz added, “I'd suggest that if you're going to attack that thing you should aim to do it from the maximum possible distance to counter its defensive capabilities; and unless you can apply sheer strength of numbers, attempting to take it on with starfighters alone would prove next to impossible.”
The other four Knights exchanged disquieted looks.
“How many fighters are we talking?” Enrique wanted to know.
“More than we're taking,” Chaz answered, almost inaudibly.
They had arrived at the quarters where they would be spending the next few hours, whilst Griffin made the jump to Aster.
“How do you know all this?” Estell
e asked.
“Let's just say a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, Lieutenant,” Chaz said, pulling himself up on to a nearby bunk and lying back.
Dodds spied one of quarters' beds past the others and made for it, slumping down onto the mattress. It was far from the most comfortable thing he had ever sat on – even the beds at Spirit offered more – but right now it met his needs. He sat for a moment before stretching out across its length and closing his eyes, grateful that he could start on recuperating. What he really needed now was to get his hands on some painkillers.
“I can see why it would be best to disable it before we attempt to retake it now,” Kelly commented, settling down at the foot of a bed that Enrique had also taken to.
“Wait,” Estelle said. “You said the accelerators were it's secondary defence system.”
“I did,” Chaz said.
“So, what's its first?”
“An anti-matter cannon. Only vessel in existence to be kitted out with one.”
“Oh. I'd forgotten about that,” Kelly said.
“It's got a what?” Enrique said.
“Dragon's main offensive weapon is a high-powered cannon that is capable of directing a concentration of anti-matter at any frontal target,” Chaz said.
“What exactly does that mean?” Estelle asked.
Though Dodds had his eyes closed, he could tell that for all Estelle's knowledge of the ins and outs of Naval protocol, Chaz was now speaking a language that even she did not understand.
“It means it can destroy anything in its path,” Kelly explained. “It is powerful enough to even take down Spirit Orbital with a single shot. We don't want to be in the way of that if it happens to get a chance to use it.”
A handful of other pilots had been assigned to the same quarters as the Knights and people began to chatter, discussing what Chaz had said.
“So whilst we're all telling stories, does someone want to tell me what's so special about this Zackaria guy that Parks wants so badly?” a man's voice said.
“He's the current Fleet Admiral of the Imperial Senate's naval forces,” a voice spoke up.
Dodds thought he recognised it, and tilted his head to look over to see if it was the same fountain of knowledge from the previous night; the one that had been spreading rumours and speculation at their card game. It turned out it wasn't, but the conversation did perk Dodds' interest somewhat. Even so, whilst the others, with the usual exception of Chaz, turned to give their attention to the speaker, Dodds was happy to lay back and listen where he was.
“Yes, I know he's the admiral of the fleet,” the first man said. “I was awake for that part of the briefing.”
“Right, so how much do you know about the civil war?”
“Well, there's a lot of a dead people as a result. As well as a huge influx of asylum seekers and illegal immigrants that I'm having to prop up with my taxes.”
“Apart from that.”
“Nothing.”
“Not how it started or who's involved or anything?”
“The Senate and the Emperor, wasn't it? Actually no, nothing,” the first man said.
A few other answers of no followed there after.
“All right, well, basically there are two main sides in the Imperial civil war: those fighting for the Imperial Senate and those fighting for Emperor Lorenzo III,” the story teller started. “The civil war began when the Senate disagreed with the Emperor's decision to grant independence to two Imperial star systems, and having another three under consideration. The Emperor was extremely popular with his people for things like that, as well as improving relationships with other Independent worlds and the Confederation. You probably already know that until recently the Imperium was very prosperous and actually envied throughout the galaxy.”
“No,” the first man scoffed. “Can't say I've really ever cared. What happens over there is their problem, not mine.”
“Stop interrupting and let him finish. No, really, shut up! That's an order,” Estelle said. There was a pause. Dodds glanced over to see Estelle glaring at a man. For once he was glad to hear Estelle pulling rank. Political yarns tended to bore him, but this one was intriguing enough to make him want to hear what had happened.
Estelle looked back to the story teller, a thin, lanky looking man with a bowl hair cut. He closed his eyes as she said, “Go on, what happened? Who was the instigator?”
“Most believe it was the Senate,” the story teller resumed. “One day the Senate, led by the senior magistrate, upped and left, setting up house in an Imperial star system that held a majority interest in the Senate's position, and was as far away from the Emperor's Seat as they could get. They felt that the Emperor's actions were a threat to the continued prosperity of the Imperium and that the Emperor could one day bring about the collapse of the Empire. They said it was becoming too diluted and the constant undermining of the core strength would make it appear to be growing weak to the Independent worlds and the Confederacy. At the time the Senate was backed by something like ten percent of the Imperium.”
“Ten percent? That's not a lot,” a woman interrupted the speaker. “That's like those minority parties you get, the fascists and the ones obsessed with trivial matters. I mean what exactly did they plan to do?”
“Hold on, I'm getting there,” the story teller said. “Ten percent is still quite a lot when you think about it: it's several hundred million people at least. And with those behind them they attacked all the worlds that had split from the Empire and then attempted to assassinate the Emperor himself.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, but they failed. And the Emperor, as was his nature, invited them to an open dialogue to resolve the issues between the two. The Senate refused and then attempted to assassinate him again. The second time they were a little more successful, although they didn't actually manage to kill him. The assassin ended up killing the Emperor's wife and injuring the Emperor very badly, before he himself was killed.”
Dodds opened his eyes to see all attention was on the speaker, listening to what he had to say. Although the information he was providing to them could have been garnered by anyone who had taken the time to follow the news over the last few years, to many in the room this was new information; hot off the presses. Some others, outside the quarters, had stopped on their way past, hovering in the doorway to listen in to what the man had to say.
The story teller continued, “Following that attempt on his life the Emperor didn't hold back and launched a full scale assault on the Senate, deploying a massive strike force to the systems they had moved to. They completely overwhelmed the forces the Senate had mustered to defend themselves, but the Emperor fell short of wiping them out completely. He gave them one last chance to yield, rejoin the Empire and accept his rule, rather than completely destroying them. And for a time it appeared that they were preparing to do so, but then one day...”
“Sorry,” the first man cut in, sounded already bored with the history lesson. “But what exactly does this have to do with this Admiral Zackaria?”
“Admiral Zackaria was the fleet admiral for the Imperial Naval Forces; he worked for the Emperor. But he defected to side with the Imperial Senate, and around five years ago they fought back harder than ever before and started to win the war.”
“How?” Estelle asked. “You said that only a small fraction of the Imperium supported the Senate. How could they be winning? They were outnumbered to begin with, and after what you said about the Senate's supporting systems being almost destroyed I don't see how that's possible?”
“Well, I don't know either,” the story teller said. “But that's why the Confederacy want him. Because whatever he's up to is starting to affect the Confederation's own interests. He's apparently already orchestrated the theft of a Python-class battleship, and I don't think anyone really wants to stand around and watch to see what he does next.”
“I don't see the point,” the man whom Estelle had shouted at said. “Why even bother bring
ing him in? What they should just do is put a bullet in his head the minute they find him. That's what I'd do. Bang! Would solve the problem straight away.”
“He'll probably already be dead by the time they get to him,” a woman chipped in. “Since they're planning on flooding Dragon with nerve agent or whatever it is.”
“The whole place'll look like Hentose back in 2612 after they're done with it,” another commented.
“Hentose?”
“Yeah, that underground station that had the accident with the bio-engineered stuff. Everyone's skin was practically melted off when they found 'em. I think one poor guy was still alive. He was a right mess.”
“Good luck identifying Zackaria if that happens.”
“Whatever they want that guy for, I hope it's worth it.”
The quarter's musings were put on hold as Parks' voice came over Griffin's intercoms.
“All crew, this is your captain speaking. Prepare for jump.”
* * *
Parks strode down the long, central aisle of Griffin's bridge, and up to the front to check on how the departure preparations were progressing. Around him crew busied themselves performing last minute checks to ensure that their route was clear and all essential safety measures had been followed.
Just ahead of him, seen out the frontal viewport, the last few transport craft could be seen departing Ifrit and Leviathan and making their way either back to Spirit Orbital or returning to the planet surface. Many other supply craft were leaving the carriers with each passing second, their cargo of essential equipment and armaments having been offloaded. Ifrit and Leviathan rested on either side of the lead carrier, Griffin being granted flag ship status if only due to its larger size, armaments, and crew complement.
This is it, Parks thought to himself. This is where I find out whether I'm ready. He held back on thinking the next few hours would be a case of easy in, easy out. He was sure that such assumptions had been made before, and the consequences had been disastrous. You can do this, Elliott, he told himself.
“All safety checks completed and route confirmed clear, Captain,” his ensign said, yanking him from his thoughts and back to the bridge of the carrier.
The Honour of the Knights (First Edition) Page 17