Chapter 17

ERIC

The comms were dead for ten minutes other than Karan and the Bentusi; the ambassador hauled a resource container behind it back to the alien ship and returned. Eric didn’t know what they had obtained from them, but imagined whatever it was to have great power. They left in a door of yellow much the same as their own blue hyperspace window.

Being told of the Turanic Raiders’ imminent arrival, all squadrons were ordered over to defend the resourcing operation several kilometres away. A few probes sped by ahead of them. Watching, he noticed how much their surroundings had changed. No longer could Kharak’s sun be distinguished in the sky, and the galactic band was the only light from outside his canopy.

“Keep a clear mind and remember what you’ve been told in training,” Mark said. “Fear will kill you as will hesitation. That isn't to say you’re immune to either, but keep it in mind and you’ll have better chance to control yourself in the heat of things.” It was as all the reassurance he was going to get that day.

They circled the Redemption-class refinery ship a handful of times before the first red blip was spotted on their sensors manager screen. The formations tightened up, and the one was followed by a dozen more once they came into sensors range.

“There they are,” Isabela said, “topside.”

He saw. The probes detailed them out to be the same pirate ships he saw the pilots fighting in the outer Kharak system. He was only an observer then, and they were unprepared. This time, however, the fleet was ready for battle and he would take part. All aboard the colony ship had witnessed the death of family and kin. Fuelled by anger, anyone in their path would suffer the fate of Kharak.

“Follow Green Squad close, we’re gonna back them up and give ‘em time to move in for a second run,” Mark said and he followed. It happened quick. The run before theirs had damaged the enemy ships and Red Squad, his squad, came in to rain more fire on them and knock a few off from the main cluster. Green Squad made their second pass and finished off the group that broke away. The other squads came in to take aim from below at the remaining stragglers.

“More incoming,” Reina Manaan warned before two more waves appeared on sensors. These backed by five missile corvettes. “Blue Squad moving in to engage.”

“They sure don’t seem to be making this easy for us,” Isabella said. “Five Brigands, we’ll have to let the assault frigates deal with those, we wouldn’t hit ‘em hard enough to have an effect.”

“Agreed,” Mark said. “Did they ever put a codename to them? I didn’t catch one.”

“Kudaark,” Jeroll S’jet said as his squad passed by.

Eric said, “I can kinda see it.” Kuudarks were small burrowing animals with tough claws and a spine along its nose. The Taiidan frigates had some physical similarities in the hull shape, its guns imitating the claws and the spire at the bow reminded him of how they tested the temperature above ground with their nose.

Heavy corvettes singled Red Squad to mind their path, and let their rounds go taking out a few of the Bandits incoming. His squad’s next pass spit more at them, Blue Squad coming in from above to follow up on their run, along with Green Squad following suit.

He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. In fact, only once before was he ever in combat and it was as auxiliary pilot on an old Bokiir unit. The bomber was nearly a century old at the time but still held its own in battle. That was more passive. This was something new. The rush of adrenaline, the powerful feeling of being in control of an autogun that could fire hundreds of rounds a minute into the enemy. His blood was pumping, and he felt focused on the fight. He didn’t feel the slightest bit afraid. Maybe it was his upbringing, the countless months servicing fighters for his kiith before defecting to the Manaan. He keeps up with the squad’s movements as if it were natural to him.

The lack of atmosphere to bank in made space combat awkward for trained pilots. The maneuvering jets in front shot hard to one side flipping the ship around. Eric took to it almost as well as Mark and Isabella did, as he didn’t have any previous training to unlearn.

“Reinforcements are on their way.” Three of their own frigates were inbound from Mothership, a Matriarch and two other shorter ones he assumed were their equivalent of assault frigates.

The tree Kuudarks fired from below but kept in tight guard around the resource controller. The Providence-class collectors were escorted by two light corvettes each. Their guns did little damage but enough to dissuade any lone enemy fighters from taking shots at the defenceless collectors as they went about their duties.

A slug from a Hammer knocked one of the missile corvettes into an asteroid and it blew up on impact. “That was comical,” the pilot said.

Before he could react Mark yelled into the squad channel: “Henry, evasive maneuvers! Drop back and take ‘em out!” He and Isabella cut their engines and thrust the forward jets and let the enemy fighters pass by as instructed, one of the few tactics they managed to cover. Mark and Carol stayed in formation drawing their attention. They opened fire on the ones still tailing Henry  and one exploded. He didn’t evade the debris fast enough and flew through, hearing everything that hit his ship as if it were the loudest noise in the universe. They kept firing taking out another, but it was too late, Henry’s ship took too much damage and the fuel cells were punctured.

“Shit!” she said taking out a third. She swore a few more times, defeated and restraining anger. Eric barely knew him, but it still had an effect. He kept in control and the two of them moved back into formation.

Out of the confusion following their lost squad member, a missile slammed into the back of  Red Leader. “I’m hit! How bad does it look?”

“Well, it doesn’t look good,” he answered.

“It did a number, you’re leaking fuel meaning a cell is punctured,” Isabella said. The two assault frigates passed by overhead giving suppressing fire. Though they drifted away from the battlefield, it wasn’t an ideal location to be stranded.

“Both rear cameras are out, I’m powering down and calling a salvager. The rest of you dock for repairs and fuel.”

“I don’t think we should leave you,” Isabella said.

“I’ll look like debris on their scanners, and from the sound of things in here the ship looks the part too.”

Reluctantly, they agreed and the three of them headed to the resource controller to dock. It was farther away from the fight, and a squad was already coming in to dock with the Matriarch. He sat there lost in thought as they closed in on their destination. “I think it’s just dawned on me,” he said in a private channel to Isabella.

“What has?” she said.

“That this is a war we’re in. I mean, I know it should be obvious, right, but I guess it took me being out here doing something about it to… feel it.”

Silence for a few seconds, then she said: “I know. We did all we could,” referring to their lost squad mate.

“I know. Is it weird that I’m not afraid?”

“A little,” inferring that she was feeling the pressure of the fight a lot more than he was, but kept her cool for the sake of him and Carol. He admired that.

“It’s okay to be afraid. I’ve seen a lot worse than this.”

“I’m sure you have.”

The calm silence continued until they docked, an understanding between them now. Isabella assumed command of Red Squad and two more fighters joined them as Red Four and Red Five. Both Sobani. They headed out to rejoin the continuing fight; it appeared there was no end to the ships the Turanic could throw at them but they held their own. The enemy had more ships but they had more skill. Considering most of them were new to piloting space fighters, that was saying something profound about the logistics of this pirate fleet. There was hope.

Due to the approaching carrier, the collectors had moved to the bottom half of the resource vein and the controller’s escorts joined the Kushan assault frigates in broad formation to lend firepower to the fight. Half a dozen heavy corvettes passed by in X formation, their passes slower but far deadlier than those of interceptor squadrons, and their armour able to take the extra hits. Two of the other interceptor squadrons were missing members as well, some more than one.  The Matriarch threw green repair material onto damaged frigates, the ships’ nano-repair systems to reform it into hull plating. A scout was returning from their search with intel on the enemy carrier’s guards and was at full burst speeding above the battlefield hoping no enemies would pay attention to it, but none would be able to catch it at that speed anyway.

Green Squad was undocking from the support frigate and returning to the fight. Isabella signalled Green Leader to follow her pass. Jeroll agreed. Backed by nine other fighter pilots, the Manaani’s leading abilities shined. In the moment, nobody knew her to be a twenty-year-old foul-mouthed desert rat, but as the person leading them into the fight. He took note of this, and would be sure to mention it to her after the battle.

Seven enemy ships, ten of them. Both headed straight for one another. The targets came in weapons range and he unloaded into them, additional power shunted to weapons. He took a few hits but was otherwise unscathed. Two members of Green Squad were not as well-off, having been picked off by a lucky shot and another having one enemy fighter possibly unintentionally slam into them. Neither pilot would survive the collision by the look of the wreckage.

Green Leader spoke next: “Rest of Green Squad, join in with Red in a Claw formation and prepare for another pass!” They listened and took the upper half of the claw, only one fighter shy for the full formation. Isabella took the central-back leader position and he fell to her lower left. Green Leader would be directly above him. Red Four was in front and below him, Carol to his right. They flipped around in unison and prepared for their second pass. He could see Blue Squad taking serious hits from three Brigadier missiles and saw some Bandits take out a heavy corvette. The Kuudarks shot out plasma bombs from their nose cannons into the missile corvettes ending their firing cycle midway through in a puff of light followed by brief flames and ending in smoke and debris. One of the chunks was the cockpit section, and he wondered to himself if those inside would have survived the ship’s death only to float around and wait for their end. He showed them mercy by letting off a dozen rounds into the darkened canopy before nudging himself back in formation in time to open fire on their next pass.

Their next victims were a couple corvettes that intel couldn’t quite figure out the purpose of and simply labelled them Thief-class. His wingman found out what those guns did. After being hit with a round, it blew up on impact causing the hull to tear open spinning the ship out of control. The pilot ejected before the ship turned into a ball of flame. The rest of them focused their fire on the ships and avoiding taking unnecessary hits from its explosive rounds. Both fell to their gunfire but not without Green Leader taking a hit from one. Damage was not fatal. After the pass he took the remainder of his squad back to the Matriarch for repairs.

Isabella called a salvage corvette to move towards Red Four’s location and pick him up, another duty designated to Porters when not chasing after salvage prey. They were en route to the Matriarch when Fleet Intelligence gave them a confusing transmission.