The Fifth Reich: Beyond The Stars

by J Palliser

  But the woman in front of her didn't carry that tension. In fact, she seemed perfectly relaxed, long blond hair tied back behind her. There wasn't a name on her flight-suit, but it did have the battle wings for the Luftwaffe sewn onto the sleeve.

  "Nice flying out there," the blonde said, folding her arms atop the Defender sim. "Thanks, Lieutenant," Weis snapped, managing to just barely avoid snarling like a wounded war-dog. "Were you the one who shot me down?"

  The blonde grinned, lilac eyes sparkling as she laid her head on her forearms. "First, we're the same rank. No need to stand on ceremony. I'm Lilana."

  "... Weis." "And technically, I didn't shoot you down. I got your engine right before you hit my stabilizers. The battle station going boom took us both out."

  "Fair enough," Weis sighed. She supposed it was slightly better than getting shot down – if only barely. "I thought it would be harder to hit the exhaust port."

  "It is. Still not sure how they managed to get it on his first try," Lilana shrugged. "I've run this scenario alot. Nice thing about simulations is you get to practice until it works. Plus, I kinda evened the odds a bit."

  Looking behind the simulator, Lilana whistled and a bright yellow-and-white mech-droid with a transparent dome rolled around the corner. "Meet Ember."

  Weis stared at the Z-series mech-droid, her eyes wide. "How the hell does a bomber jock get assigned an a Z-series mech-droid unit?"

  Lilana shrugged, grinning at Weis' obvious envy. The generation after the legendary S-series, Z3 units were the luxury speeders of mech-droids. Designed for military and government use, their semi-transparent domes had more powerful computing modules than their predecessors, giving them far more storage space and processing power. Power that was far more suited for work on a capital ship than as a plug-in for a snub-fighter. Weis had seen Z3 units skittering about on Tungari destroyers from time to time, and only a few were already aboard the larger ships in the Kriegsmarine fleet – the odds of finding one in the hands of a Warthog pilot were about the same as that Warthog pilot being a Bren.

  Whistling cheerfully, the garishly painted droid rocked back and forth on its two legs before extending the third and rolling around to bump into Lilana's leg.

  "She's mine, actually. I 'liberated' her from an Tungari Base Commander before I joined the Kriegsmarine. Thought about handing her over, but she's got a few bugs. They'd cause trouble if she went on cruiser duty. A few modifications later and she's the best co-pilot I could ask for." Lilana smiled proudly and ran her hand over the droid's dome. "Figured if you were gonna test out the new Defender sim, I needed my own ace in the hole."

  Weis nodded, her annoyance subsiding slightly. "Well, thank you for ruining an otherwise excellent run." "You're welcome. Especially since I'm switching to your side for round two." The blonde pilot gave Weis that cocksure smile only a true Sungari could pull off. "I'm thinking I'll take a Defender bomber for the Redemption scenario. How much you wanna bet the two of us together can vape the entire flight?"

  41

  Forty

  Command...

  Training HQ - 1921 hours. "Which just leaves the matter of Lieutenant Sylvania," Admiral Raeder said. Shifting slightly in his chair, Raeder reached out for the last item of business.

  "If she's willing, I'd be happy to have her." Seated on the other side of the pitted and pockmarked desk, Commander pulled up the Lieutenant's dossier on her own smart-pad. Scattered across the screen were stolen Tungari Academy records and flight histories – all detailing the former Tungari pilot's short career.

  "I've seen her simulator scores, and while she flags behind a bit with Luftwaffe craft, she's a hot hand in a Defender."

  Plus, she thought, a newer unit will respond better to her than a more established group. "You're sure you want her?" Raeder asked. "Given the recent conflict with her father, most commanding officers might be reluctant to take her to the front lines."

  "Sir, it's obvious she's not a spy. The fact that we're having this conversation at all means Intelligence cleared her. As for her being an ex-Tungari pilot ..." Sonya trailed off, sighing as she leaned back in her chair. "A lot of our forces are defectors, including about a third of the officers above Major. If 'former Tungari' disqualified you from the fighter corps, we wouldn't have a Kriegsmarine left, much less a Reich."

  "You don't see her history, her family, as a point of contention in the squadron?" "Her record, or the parts we've found, had her on the Outer Rim chasing Wraiths as part of her Academy training. The patrols she did were the same kind of policing some of our units do now. And none of the pilots on the roster have any connection to skirmishes Lieutenant Sylvania served in, so her history shouldn't cause any problems."

  Raeder grimaced. While the Kriegsmarines had always been willing to take Tungari defectors – especially ones who brought as nice a gift as a state-of-the-art Defender – there was always the chance of trouble if a pilot found out that they, or someone they knew, had been shot down by one of their fellows in the past.

  "What's your overall read on her?" Sonya frowned and looked down at the Intelligence report. Sylvania's debriefing mentioned a number of reasons why the former Tungari decided to defect. The destruction of Kahrim and Tungari Intelligence releasing a plague on the streets of Korsica sat front and center. She had a few more mentions, actions by Tungarian officers Sylvania had found unethical. While it wasn't on the list, Sonya had a feeling the well-known misogyny in the Tungari Imperial Fleet hadn't helped.

  "According to her, she joined the military to protect Tungari citizens. With the Emperor dead, the remaining District Governors trying to keep their individual spheres of influence, and rogue warlords attacking both sides, it looks like she decided she could do more good on our side than theirs.

  "But?" "But... her interviewer said she closed down when they mentioned her father. She also responded poorly to the suggestion that she'd followed him into Imperial service." Sonya frowned, pausing for a second before adding her own conclusions. "I'd put good credits on some personal conflict with Govenor Sylvania being the tipping point."

  "And you still want her?"

  Sonya shrugged. "She seems pretty by-the-book. And we all have reasons to hate the Tungari Empire, sir." "Very well. She's all yours, Commander."

  "Thank you, Admiral." Sonya rose from her chair to salute, then turned on her heel and walked out the door. Her executive officer was waiting when Sonya stepped outside. Casana sat in the waiting area, chatting with the Admiral's secretary and fingering the fronds of a slowly dying plant, left there in some vain attempt to add life to the bleak hallway. She looked up and smiled when she heard the door open, deep blue eyes warm with recognition. Standing, Casana said her goodbyes and fell into step beside Sonya, missing the yearning look the secretary gave her as she left.

  "So," she said, holding out yet another smart-pad filled with resumes. "Should I give these to you before or after you down half a bottle of Centauri Ale?"

  Sonya snorted a quick laugh and held out her hand for the smart-pad. "Before, Syrrha. And if there isn't liquor when I get to the officer's mess, you can handle the next round of pilot interviews."

  Casana laughed and handed over the files. Glancing down at another set of applicants, Sonya let her feet lead the way down the hall.

  "Is this the last of the incoming pilots?" she asked, looking for any excuse to avoid looking at one more list of academy scores.

  "Just came in today," Casana said. Reaching over, she flicked through the profiles until she came to one of a very young-looking woman with red highlights in her dark hair. "Fresh out of the training fleet."

  Sonya frowned. Something about the girl was familiar. She'd have sworn she had never met the girl before, and the name didn't ring any bells, but ... "She's the sister, isn't she? Explains why I haven't seen Lilana today."

  "That's the Lieutenant for you," Casana smiled. It was infectious – Sonya couldn't help but follow her lead, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
As always, Sonya felt some of the tension in her shoulders bleed out of her, the stiff muscles in her back loosening as the two women headed for the mess hall. Syrrha tended to have that effect on people.

  "If Rylana makes the cut, Lilana wants her to know it was on her own efforts, not from having her big sister's help." "Well, with these scores, I doubt it'll be a problem," Sonya said. "Her file says she's certified with a pulse rifle too. That's the kind of thing that'll come in handy."

  She hit the power button for the smart-pad and the screen went dark. She could look at the rest of the file later, once she had some food in her. "How did Lilana's run against the Defender test run go?"

  "It was-" "Speak of the Devil," a wry voice came from the end of the hall. Sonya looked up and found Lilana leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. She was smiling – the test must have gone well then. Or at least she shot down enough trainees to amuse herself.

  "So, how was it?" The blonde shrugged and pushed off the wall. "Good. Sylvania said she was pretty happy with the sim, just some issues with the acceleration."

  "And the opposing team?" Lilana's smile was only a little vindictive. "The Admiral needs to rethink their training. The kids did their best, but Sylvania and her Defenders ripped 'em to shreds. I was the only bomber who managed the full run. Lucky for them, I don't miss. "

  Sonya snorted at the blatant egotism. If only shields ran on ego... she mused, shaking her head. Well, to be fair, she is a Sungari.

  "And our pilots?" Lilana fell into step beside the Commander, her long mass of blonde hair swinging behind her as they walked. "Good scores, for the most part. Velvet and Yancy took out their fair share of Defenders before attrition caught up to them. Bindi made it to the end – she flew cover for me on my last run."

  "And Arch?" "Clipped by Sylvania thirty seconds in and slammed into an automated turret." Lilana rolled her eyes in obvious exasperation. "Look, maybe it's just some performance anxiety thing. But if it's not, I have no idea how his scores from training were as high as his file says."

  Sonya grimaced. That was saying something – the Arch's scores were average at best. Lilana matched Sonya's look and swept a stray lock of hair out of her face. "Honestly, I don't know how he didn't wash out."

  "We're all short-handed at the moment. The hunt for Wraiths has everyone scrambling. It's possible Arch slipped through the cracks, or that it's just nerves from being vetted for an actual unit."

  Sonya sighed and turned the smart-pad back on. It was unfortunate, but some pilots just didn't have what was needed for this sort of duty. Fighter squadrons required a different level of nerves, and a higher sense of spatial awareness, than many of the other roles in the fleet. Fighter jocks needed to be able to handle the stresses of flitting about in what amounted to lightly shielded can with cannons attached. If these you hotshots didn't pull their weight and really improve, then the new 'Top Gun's' of the Luftwaffe corps was dead before it gets started.

  "We'll give him a shot in the live-fire exercises. If his scores show improvement, we'll keep him, try to train him up to the level of the others. If not ..."

  Lilana nodded. "Fleet command can always use another navigator or freight driver."

  "Exactly. In the meantime, Syrrha, see what you can do to get his scores up to par."

  The captain caught Sonya's eyes and nodded. Taking the smart-pad back, she turned and walked out of the room.

  *** Rylana let out a deep sigh as she flopped onto her militaryissue bunk. She bounced slightly, then fell back against the sheets, staring up at the ceiling and trying to ignore how depressing the room looked.

  The quarters she'd been assigned were sparse at best – the whole room was a generic, nameless shade of gray. A gray metal frame sat against the wall, supporting her mattress with the gray blanket Rylana just knew would feel scratchy against her skin. A gray plasteel workstation with a terminal sat in the corner, behind a swiveling chair in that same, monotonous, awful gray.

  It was about what she'd expected. This posting wasn't one of the many old smuggling hideouts or makeshift bases that the Kriegsmarine, liked to use. Instead, Firebase Condor was a pre-fabricated structure originally designed for some industrial corporation Rylana couldn't even remember the name of. The base itself was built into an old First War era weapons factory. The assembly lines had been gutted and hauled away, leaving a number of large holds that now served as hangar bays for the bases' star-fighters. The prefab living quarters for the workers now housed the training base's squadron candidates and flight cadets. And it looks like the original owners couldn't have cared less about their employees' morale.

  Blowing hair out of her face, Rylana stripped down and grabbed one of the flight-suits from the footlocker by the bed.

  Zipping up the front of the jumpsuit, Rylana grabbed her ID cards and headed out into the hall. Her first simulation wasn't for another two hours, so unless she wanted to get in some extra practice time – which would probably just make her nerves worse – she needed to find something else to do. Plus, she thought, glancing at the directions on her smart-pad, I am kinda hungry.

  The mess was already packed by the time Rylana walked through the doors. Pilots, mechanics, and crew filled the space, dressed in worker's coveralls, flight-suits, and the odd uniform. Groups with the same squadron patches clustered around the tables, chatting or grumbling depending on their mood. It wasn't as chaotic as some of the cantinas on base would be, but the crush of people still made her rethink just heading to the simulator room.

  Taking a breath, Rylana steeled herself and forced her feet to step into the crowded room. Joining the line, she dumped whatever looked edible onto her tray, hoping that at least some of what she grabbed would taste good. She got free from the line as quickly as she could, finding some relief once she had room to move, and started looking for a place to sit.

  None of the tables were free. Most had clumps of pilots of crew shifts gathered together – people who'd worked together before and were happy spending their down time in each other's company. Circling the room, she tried to find an open chair, somewhere with less people at the very least. A humanoid-looking woman with vibrant red hair sat with a blonde man in the corner, talking quietly. For a second, Rylana considered asking if they minded her joining them, but then the man let out a deep sigh and hung his head. Nope. I don't wanna bother them in the middle of that.

  She briefly thought about joining a pair of Waffen-SS troopers – one blue-haired, the other a blond non-human from a species Rylana couldn't name – but the loud voices and constant laughter pushed her away. She was about to give up hope of finding a seat when she saw a small table at the back, empty except for one dark-haired figure looking down at a smart-pad.

  Swallowing, Rylana made her way over to the table, sidestepping around the other patrons.

  "Um... you mind if I sit? Everywhere else is pretty full." The dark-haired woman looked up and met Rylana's eyes. She wasn't human – that much was obvious. She looked tall ... taller than Rylana anyway.

  The woman blinked once, her emerald eyes sharp and inscrutable, then looked back down at her smart-pad. "Go ahead."

  "Thanks." Rylana slid into a seat across from the other pilot, giving her a brief smile before she started eating. The food wasn't bad exactly, just the sort of generally bland meals that normally made their way to a training base. The dark-haired watched her for a second, then went back to whatever she was reading, her own empty dinner tray lying forgotten nearby.

  "So," Rylana said when the silence finally became too awkward. "You um... you don't have a unit patch. Are you trying out for Wolf Squadron too?"

  The dark-haired woman glanced up from her screen. Her eyes held Rylana's for a long second before she nodded.

  "Oh. Cool." Rylana bobbed her head, trying to think of anything else to talk about. "Me too. I'm Rylana by the way." She held out her hand across the table, and immediately regretted it. With so many species in the Outer Rim territories, there was every cha
nce that this woman came from a place where a handshake meant something completely different. Rylana's sister Lilana had told her once about a bar on one planet she'd been to – she'd turned her glass over on the bar to say she didn't need another drink, and apparently accidentally told everyone there that she could beat them in a fight. Local habits and customs were more-or-less similar in areas that had been under Tungari control, but the farther you got from the center of the galaxy, the more likely you were to put your foot in your mouth. The dark-haired woman spoke without much of an accent, so she was probably from one of the more cosmopolitan worlds, but there was still every chance that she...

  Rylana's train of thought derailed as the other woman reach out and took her hand. Relief washed over Rylana as she pumped it twice and then let go. Oh, thank the God.

  "Bindi." The cat-eared woman cocked her head to the side, emerald eyes sweeping up and down over Rylana's flight suit. "You're new, aren't you?"

  Rylana couldn't help but laugh as the tension rushed out of her.

  "What gave it away?".

  42

  Forty-One

  Wolf Squadron...

  0930 hours. Syrrha watched as the cockpit canopy popped open, letting in the light from the simulator bay. Forcing a smile onto her face, she stepped over, and winced when she saw the young man inside bury his face in his hands.

  "See? I said you could make that run if you timed it right," she said, trying to sound reassuring. Flight Officer Jaun Arch looked up and met her eyes. She smiled – it wouldn't help to injure his confidence any more than it already was – but from the look on his face, it seemed he could tell she was trying to make him feel better. If anything, the compliment made him droop lower.

  It hadn't actually been that bad a run. Jaun managed to make it through the scenario – him and a few other fighters getting chased through a volcano-world by the three-winged Defender Lieutenant Sylvania had brought. Part of its testing and everyone's training was going up against the ship, getting the less experienced flight cadets used to the intimidating craft.