Alpha One: The Kronan (13 page)

Three weeks in an Alpha personnel shuttle can be quite an enlightening experience. This was the preferred method of transporting personnel, NCO’s and lower ranked officers, but the passengers rarely enjoyed the experience. Each of the three hundred Alpha personnel had their own individual sleeping compartment, which ran along isles from the front of the ship to the rear. There were three isles, with compartments either side, with a one-meter floor passage running down the middle of each isle. The compartments themselves were stacked two high and were less than two meters long, by a meter wide and a meter high. They were cramped and austere but allowed for restful sleep, once the compartment was secured for privacy when it was really needed.

In the most part, compartments were left open, to prevent claustrophobia, providing a window on the world of other ranks. There was no distinction of ranking aboard the shuttle, no officer’s mess, no cafeteria and no recreational facilities. All ranks served their time aboard the shuttle together.

Jake Carter had found this wonderfully revealing and extremely irritating in equal measures. He was surrounded by NCO Troopers from the first trooper division. This contingent was scheduled for a placement aboard the Viceroy. They were entertaining most of the time and Jake enjoyed their company, but every so often, a fight would break out. The ships security team would attempt to break down the fracas, usually resulting in one or both marines ending up in the Cooler. Today was no exception. Two marines were discussing the relative merits of the nightlife on Alpha Two. Jake listened in and learned that there were two parts to the Moon based entertainment and leisure complex, known as Easy Street; the good part, where clean and honest entertainment was the norm and the bad part, where drugs, prostitution and law breaking was very much the standard. The latter was always the busiest. It was where all the excitement happened and where trouble was never far away

The argument broke out between them over whether a particular bar had a bad reputation or not. The argument quickly escalated to a punch-up.

Jake was in one of the top compartments and it was far easier to stay within the confines of his compartment rather than jump down to the floor. Today this was a good strategy as unseen, one of the marines pulled a knife when the fight intensified and blood was drawn; all before the security team arrived to intervene. The injured marine did not appear badly hurt at first. It became clear he was critically injured when a medic arrived and a full-blown surgical procedure was carried out on the deck of the shuttle. The action was futile and the marine died shortly afterwards.

Jake was shocked. The incident had upset him and put him in a reflective mood.
If two ordinary people can be so reckless to the point where one of them loses his life, following a simple disagreement, then what hope did the rest of the galaxy have?

He thought about Carla, as he did for almost every part of every day, but he could not make contact, because of the communication restrictions. She would be in her placement and probably charming her fellow officers already. She would do well, there was no doubt. Steve would be operational too and had probably frightened the life out of his fellow Jump Ship pilots already. He was just here, nearly three weeks cooped up on a transporter, knowing that even when he arrived at his new ship, The Antibes, he would still be grounded for at least four weeks. When would he make an impact or a contribution to the war effort?

“Lieutenant Carter to the front fore room.”

Jake’s compartment intercom, burst into life and his reflections disappeared.
What was this? Why had he been summoned?

The front fore room was a small transparent room just off the flight deck and wedged between the crew accommodation and the Cooler
. I
t was clearly, where personnel were brought for questioning after an incident.

“Ah, Lieutenant Carter. Thanks for joining me.”

The shuttles commander, Lieutenant Hodges, sat casually on one side of a small desk. Hodges beckoned Jake to take a seat.

“I have asked you here for your version of the incident this afternoon.”

Jake briefly outlined his take on the events leading to the death of the marine, before Lieutenant Hodges stood up and thanked Jake.

“Any news on our ETA yet?”

“We are ahead of schedule, but I understand that a battle of sorts has commenced and there is a lot of traffic movement. We will arrive tomorrow, but we may have to take a more scenic route than planned.”

Jake wanted to make the most of his temporary release from the confinement of the passenger compound.

“What will happen to Trooper Rodriguez?”

“It’s a pretty clear cut case. With witnesses evidence supporting the VT data, he will be tried, found guilty, and sent to a penal center, probably for life. A lot depends on whether he decides to contest the charge.”

“Will my evidence be required?”

“Only, if he contests. To be honest, Imagine he will just confess and get it off his chest. It doesn’t look like a malicious attack, just one that got out of hand. Two lives wrecked for five minutes stupidity.”

“Yes. They got on well as a pair. It’s a travesty.”

“It is. I am used to looking at my human cargo and trying to avoid making a judgment whether a person will live or die—but not this way. This is just wrong. A Marines life expectancy is actually good at the moment. I guess that will change.”

“And a Jump Ship Pilot?” Jake was interested to hear the officers take on survival rates.

“Good question but you probably don’t want to hear the answer.”

“Go on.”

“Forty percent of new Jump Pilots are killed within their first week in battlefront conditions. Did I hear you were signed off?”

“Yes, for the next month or so. I know life expectancy is not good for Jump Ship pilots but we are likely to be playing a very crucial part in this campaign. Most of us, me included, just want to get out there and fly.”

“It’s a crazy way to earn a living.”

Jake agreed and was about to comment further when Hodges was summoned to the flight deck. Jake returned to his compartment, where the banter and revelry had gone as reality had set in. There was nothing like death for bringing people back to the ground with a bump.

The blue tones of the wormhole and the crimson hue of the Kryl vessels under bellies glowed purple and pink against the orange fireballs that cascaded across the theatre as the Jump Ships continued their battle with the Kryl fighters.

Jake Carter sat at the helm of the Rapier as he awaited final checks and clearance for launch from the Viceroy. This was altogether unexpected. The shuttle had docked within the cavernous gulley’s of the main hanger bay, four hours earlier, following a treacherous last few hours of their journey. They had arrived in the system, just as the battle had escalated and with only basic shielding and ineffective weaponry, they were at the mercy of any Kryl vessel that came across them. They were allocated two Hunter Jump Ships, both of which was lost along the way and had resorted to hiding behind one of the larger cruisers until a safer passage had allowed them to cross to the comparative safety of the main fleet and to the protection of the Viceroy. The pilots had done well; they probably should not have made it.

On disembarking the shuttle, Jake was shepherded to the CAG information room, where he was told he could either sit tight or wait for the next terminus shuttle to transport him to the Antibes or pilot a Jump Ship, which was scheduled to join the Antibes small JS group
.
The terminus shuttle was not a palatable option in the midst of battle and he might have to have wait up to forty-eight hours before he could depart. The Jump Ship option was the obvious solution, albeit that he had to try to avoid combat.

The Rapier 7 was cleared for launch five minutes later and within fifteen seconds, Jake had launched in free space as a qualified pilot for the first time.
After three weeks of discomfort, boredom and restrictive movement, he was suddenly back where he wanted to be.

The feeling of freedom did not last long, as three Kryl fighters intercepted his position and locked on. Jake was forced to take evasive action. As he sent the Rapier into vertical spirals, first one way and then the other to shake off the enemy vessels, his knee rubbed against the side of the cockpit. It was already starting to hurt.

He managed to shake free from the first two fighters and was pleased to see the third was engaged in a battle with a Hunter. Jake wanted to engage the other two fighters but his flight clearance status was quite clear: do not engage the enemy unless in a defensive capacity. This though was a rule to be stretched, especially given his current predicament.
In the end, the decision was made for him, as the first of the two Kryl fighters achieved missile lock.
It’s do or die
, he thought, as he took evasive action and swept towards the cover of the nearest cruiser before releasing chaff as he pulled up. The chaff did not divert the missile, but the plasma weaponry bursts from the cruiser did.

Now he could concentrate on the Kryl
, he thought, before reminding himself once again of his flight status. He was actually heading back towards the Viceroy, rather than picking out the Antibes.

As he adjusted his heading, the two Kryl fighters returned to Jake’s tail. He had to do something, before they achieved missile lock. The Kryl had the power to outrun him, but he had the edge on maneuverability. Now was the time to prove it.

Jake passed control from his visor to the stick, pulled the ship up, almost vertically, and accelerated briskly, before yoking back and then pulling the sharpest achievable turn to the left at maximum G. The Kryl out accelerated the Rapier as anticipated, but could not follow the sharp turn of the Jump Ship, allowing Jake to pull in behind.
That was simple enough. Now for a Steve special.
He adjusted the ailerons to a seventy-five degree incline and applied upward pressure. This forced the ship to rise vertically on a horizontal plane. He was above them.

They were operating in a wing man formation which was perfect, as he was about to fly right through the middle of them from top to bottom. He pulled the stick down, exerted downward pressure on the nose, and then allowed the power to come off slowly to create the right angle of descent. He applied his thrusters and fired up his afterburners.
Maximum power
. Jake forced the Rapier down splitting the two Kryl fighters and hitting the first with his plasma cannons. The vessel disintegrated as it tried to avoid his cannon fire and ploughed straight into the shields of a large cruiser. The second fighter was back on his tail but Jake responded immediately by applying reverse thrust and allowing the Kryl vessel to go shooting by—straight into the path of his plasma cannon
. Job done!

The Jump Pilot returned control to his visor and applied the NAVCOM. There was no immediate threat from the Kryl and the Antibes was in sight.
What a way to start a tour!

* * * *

Jake was led straight from his Rapier to the debriefing room, where the Assistant CAG had just pulled down an analysis of his flight.

“Pretty impressive for a rookie. I wasn’t expecting our Rapier to come in damaged though.”

“Just a few scratches and some plasma bursts. I tried to avoid trouble, but it’s pretty crazy out there.”

“Need to get that leg checked out. We need you on the active list ASAP.”

“I am non-combat only for the next few weeks.”

“You could have fooled me! No matter, you need to report to the CPO section on deck nine, forward four, for accommodation and duty schedule. Turn left as you exit the hangar bay and follow the signs.”

Jake left the hangar and headed up the main corridor, which gently sloped from the bottom of the aft section to the fore deck and the bridge. The CAG officer’s suggestion to follow the signs worked to a point, but Jake asked several crew members for assistance before he finally arrived at the CPO section.

The section chief was off-shift but his subordinate, Petty Officer Martin invited Jake into the office, offered him refreshments and a chair, while he brought up Jake’s schedule.

“You are allocated accommodation on deck six, amidships; Room 406. That is almost exactly below the skippers room, on the deck above, which is probably the safest part of the ship, so that’s a good start. You need to report to the XO at 18.30 hours and the medical center at 19.00 hours. You need to find time to visit your section manager...Lieutenant Poulter, the ships CAG. He is on duty until 1700 hours, so I would suggest you familiarize yourself with your quarters, freshen up and head down there straight away. You should be able to grab a hot meal after that.”

PO Martin then coded Jake’s comms pin and handed it to him.

“This is your security accommodation pass and ships comm. device. You will need to keep it attached to your lapel at all times. That way we can always determine your whereabouts. You have a level three security clearance which means you can go anywhere, apart from the command bridge, engineering or the weaponry rooms.”

Jake listened intently, but the mass of information, was hard to keep on top of.

“Meals are served in the Mess hall. It’s all automated, so just grab your food, find a seat and eat. No set times. You have access to the Officers Mess and to the Senior Officers Mess, but stay clear of the latter, unless you are invited. That is about it. Let’s take a walk, to your quarters.”

The quarters were spartan, but surprisingly spacious. There was no viewing window, which was a disappointment, but there was certainly enough room to spread yourself out. The bed stood to the left of the room, with a terminal and comm. link dock, a chair, a desk, built in cupboards, a refreshment section and a washroom. Overall, Jake was pleased with his first ship bound accommodation and he was glad to be finally alone to give him some ‘time out’ before reporting to the ships CAG. He spent a few minutes unpacking his uniforms and connecting his comm. link and palm top and then showered, dressed his knee wound and changed, before leaving his quarters and heading back to the launch bay.

“Lieutenant Carter, I presume. Simon Poulter, ships CAG. I understand you had an eventful last leg to your transportation.”

“Yes. You could say that.”

“Two kills, before you start your first tour and you are not even authorized for combat duties. I presume that you tried very hard to avoid them?”

Jake was uncertain whether there was a sarcastic tone to Lieutenant Poulter’s voice. He elected to answer formerly.

“They locked onto to me pretty quickly. I tried to shake them loose, but they persisted and the best defense was attack.”

“Sounds like you enjoyed it. Okay. I have you signed off for four more weeks. We will confirm that this evening with the medics. I believe you have an appointment and you are meeting with the XO as well. Commander Holt is a pleasant enough chap, authoritative, but he likes to present a friendly face to our new officers early on. That will contrast with the old man, who is a bit of a stickler. You will meet him soon. The XO asked me to deputize you as an assistant CAG, which I presume is okay?”

“Yes, of course.” Jake was surprised to be asked.

“Assuming your grounded status remains, then an extra pair of hands in here is good news, albeit that I would prefer to use you as a pilot. This place is a hell-hole. We are losing ships and pilots and it is not actually a nice place to be at the moment. We are turning our ships around inside half an hour and our pilots are on 4-4-4 shift patterns, twenty-four hours a day. That is four hours on four hours off and four hours on again and then the same again. Actual combat time can be anything between ten minutes and two hours, but the pilots are already tired and fatal mistakes are being made. We are making mistakes in here too, mostly because of the pressure of the situation and as soon as we can get you up to speed, you will take some of the stress away from me.”

Lieutenant Poulter’s speech was an impassioned one. He was clearly exhausted and under pressure. This was about as tough as it got.

“I will catch on quickly. My flight status should be showing a combat ban only. I should be cleared for non offensive operations.

“Right now, that amounts to the same thing. You are grounded full stop until the medics or the XO or old man say otherwise! That makes it easier for both of us and I can concentrate on getting you trained up.

“Okay, that’s it. Report to duty at eight o’clock sharp tomorrow morning.”

* * * *

Jake arrived at the XO’s quarters, five minutes ahead of his meeting, having eaten and taken the opportunity to familiarize himself further with the ship. To Jake, the Antibes was huge and like the youngest child in a new school, it would take some time to work out which way was up.

“Good to see that a non-combat Jump Pilot has two kills today already! Well done Mister Carter. We consider ourselves lucky to have a high-rated South Downs rookie, even if you are non-combat.

“I will keep this brief.”

Commander Holt was interrupted as the Antibes shook in the aftermath of a large explosion to port.

“As you can see, we are all rather busy at present. I have requested that you deputize as assistant CAG during your flight ban. We will remain in the thick of it for some time to come as the main fleet re-engages outside of the system. It is going to be tough out there Mister Carter and this will be an unpleasant baptism to your career. Keep your feet planted firmly to the floor and above all listen. The hanger bay is a tough place to be and will be very stressful. You are visiting the medic this evening for an update on your flight status?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Okay, that is it for now. The CO will want to see you at some stage in the next week. Best to wait until you are summoned. Commander Deguise is old school and likes things to be done by the book.”

Jake was dismissed and he headed back towards his quarters for a few minutes deliberation, before he attended his last meeting of the day.

* * * *

The medical facility was on the top deck. The ships chief medical officer was clearly agitated, but beckoned Jake to an examination table to commence the review.

“Lieutenant Carter, continued damage to tendons, with wounds in the knee area needing further dressing. Let’s have a look.”

The medic removed the dressing and examined Jake’s leg, before applying a hand scanner to the affected area. Your tendons have still not healed correctly and there is new damage, presumably because of your efforts today. Are you in pain?”

“A little. I came across a couple of Kryl fighters on route.”

“Well, you have set yourself back a couple of weeks. If we do not allow this to heal properly, you could have permanent damage, which is not what you need if you are piloting a Jump Ship. We are going to have to extend your ban to a full four weeks. Then we will review and if sufficient healing has taken place, we will give you two weeks’ notice to release the ban. Six weeks in all unless our commanders decide to push you out there. But that will be against medical advice.”

“Is there any way we can bring this forward?”

“No, Lieutenant Carter. The ban stays and you get to live a bit longer.”