Free Fleet #03 No Rest for the Wicked (33 page)

The CAG used the fighters bringing them down on the nearly hundred Corvettes. The bigger ships were pounding Poshu's bigger ships.

“There's an incoming transmission from one of Salchar's lieutenants,” Delphine said. “On screen.”

“Rolling. Port side shielding is failing.” There was no sensation of rotating at all as Cheeleader appeared on the main screen. “My squadron has been released to assist you. We're under your command until the end of hostilities.”

“Brilliant! I'll be through the formation in a matter of minutes,” Foshunti said, turning to his armrest and hammering something out on it before looking up. “We'll fire missiles at them once we're clear, then come in afterwards and clear up. I've sent you crude timings,” he said.

Cheerleader looked at her own armrest.

“Understood,” she said as the channel was cut.

Santos thought he was imagining things but it felt like Talhalla was getting pounded less.

“Send the recall once we're free,” Foshunti said.

“Sir,” the CAG said.

***

For the first time, I watched a space battle from the command chair. It wasn't glorious. It was giants pounding one another with everything they had until one cracked. Foshunti's forces grouped together, assisting one another as they piled through the reinforcements. Their first attack had come as a surprise, tens of missiles sprouting without warning as ships turned to present their cannons. They crossed the reinforcements T perfectly, their fire sending them into disarray. Cruisers lit up spectacularly, their shields could barely stop a single missile.

They went up with their missile loads. X-ray fusion pumped missiles were the worst. They had the range and effect on them to hit the Syndicates own forces. Shields faltered around some exploding cruisers. The fighters that had launched from Talhalla fell onto these weakened shields like piranhas.

Corvettes tried to use their superior maneuvering and thrust to get better angles on Foshunti's fleet but the fighters with their humming bird like reflexes swarmed them, hunting down the massive Corvette force, which had practically no protection other than going back to the main Syndicate body. They raced back, the fighters leaving them for easier targets as the Corvettes had to act like destroyers and Battle Cruisers. It became a slug fest, cannons, shields, and armour being used to the best of their ability to keep the ship alive and kill the bastard that was trying to kill them.

The Syndicates got the odd ship, but Foshunti's forces were drilled. They passed through quickly, hitting the biggest targets, weakening them, if not destroying them. A reactor gave way on a Destroyer as its shields failed and an explosion ripped it apart from the inside.

Foshunti cleared through as I checked my plots. Cheerleader was powering towards the Syndicate fleet. Her forces and Foshunti's unleashed missiles on the Syndicate forces by the dozen. PDS systems left on automatic went from one direction to the other, not concentrating its fire at all. It was like watching a vice close in on the Syndicate. Nuclear fire raged in space and the main screen clouded as sensors were unable to get through the mess. It quickly cleared and Walf let out a whistle. The Syndicate forces were broken. Not one shield was left standing and many ships drifted, dead and bleeding atmosphere. A few more bucked as something gave way and exploded and Cheerleader ripped through the formation, her cannons shooting anything that looked like it was alive.

“Have Cheerleader return. Send down the remaining Commandos,” I said. In Sook and Vort began issuing orders.

“Looks like we did it again, even with Murphy throwing all kinds of shit in the machine,” Rick muttered, his eyes fixed on his screens as he checked people, ships and the fleet as a whole.

“Not yet we haven't. We still have those ships to take,” I said, standing. “Rick you have command,” I said as I stomped out, Rick looking up as I left.

I cast an eye towards Edwards, he was studying the plot as if it was some kind of trick. I hoped that something had sunk into that thick useless skull of his. I snorted, it wasn't my problem anymore.

***

Carsickle checked the information coming in as his shuttle powered for one of the Dreadnoughts. There was only a platoon of Commando's against the company and a half that inhabited the place. They were holding, but they were low on everything and needed help. Thankfully one of Resilient's viruses had got into the system and bounced around the ship, shutting down shields and engines.

Seems it didn't get cannons,
Carsickle thought, his stomach rising into his throat as the shuttle pilot threw in some ridiculous moves. The Commandos groaned as the shuttle bucked and weaved, the pilot keeping them out of the cannons aiming reticule. A side of the shuttle went missing as four Commando's flat lined. Debris from a rail-gun round had shredded the side of the shuttle and the occupants. Thankfully without air there was no decompression as the dance to get away from the cannons continued.

There was a brief period of massive thrust which made Carsickle thankful for the high gravity training for once. Then the shuttle's pads hit the ground. Carsickle was up as soon as a seal was confirmed. Ramps opened and mechas clunked out. Carsickle scanned the area. He could feel the cannons firing from the ship as he located an airlock from his plans. A shuttle got hit by a cannon, its inertia carrying it forward into the ship. Carsickle heard it through his feet as the fiery mess dented the ships armour before floating off into the black.

“Move it!” Carsickle said. He didn't want to be out here a second longer than necessary.

The techie got the airlock open and the electrostatic field online and Commandos filed in. The troops that had been dispatched got into a firefight.

“Through the walls ceiling and everything. We need to get those cannons offline!” Carsickle said as rounds pinged off his shoulder. He fired back at where they had come from, hitting a troop, his round pinging off and exploding afterwards. The troops danced as they were swarmed with rounds and explosions.

“Take them,” Carsickle said as he kept firing.

Two Commando's charged with their plasmid weaponry as Carsickle reloaded. The two hacked their way through the troops while Carsickle came up behind them.

“It's not the time to take a breather, people,” Carsickle said. The two got their primary weapons out and continued down the corridor, clearing as they went in the direction of the gun decks.

A grenade rolled down the corridor and as Carsickle got to it, he gave it the boot, falling back into cover as Troops fired at him. The grenade went off at abdomen height, just a few meters from the troops. A Commando turned the corner, his rail gun sounding the end of the remaining troops. Someone helped to haul Carsickle to his feet, Commandos flowing through the now open corridor.

“I’m getting too old for this shit,” Carsickle said as he tried to shake his snout, his mecha stopping him.

He growled and followed his Commandos as they reached the gun decks. The Commandos didn't even break stride as they saw a half-completed portable cannon. Carsickle joined in with the senseless yells as he drew his plasmid sword. The cannon crew was practically run over while the Commando's charged through and into the gun deck.

“Surrender, or we'll kill every last one of you mother fuckers,” Carsickle said, coming to the front, his rail gun in one hand, his sword in the other.

Hands raised as Carsickle snorted.

“One squad looks after this lot, two squads down, one up,” Carsickle said.

A squad stepped forward, sorting through the Syndicates, quickly and easily subduing them and lining them against the wall furthest from the weapons. Carsickle plunged his sword into the floor, cutting open a hole big enough for himself.

“Three, two,” he jumped. “One,” he landed, the hole giving way as he took the express route onto the next gun deck.

He was charged as soon as they saw him. He fired his railgun with one hand, his exoskeleton's power keeping it level. They got in too close so he brought his sword down across their front. Commandos fell from the sky, crushing the charging Gun crews. An awakened Avarian charged through their ranks, her squad following as her two long swords came up from her back, she turned in a circle, clearing an area around her. She moved like a nimble dancer, but with a massive reach and terrible power.

Carsickle felt something bump into his back. He turned to kill whatever was there, only to find a Commando there. They nodded to one another, just two commandos fighting to survive, before turning to deal with their attackers. A blow turned Carsickle's blade. He took the hit on his arm, turning and punching through the attacker’s face with his servo assisted strength. He left the railgun embedded in the enemy’s face as he took another hit on his shoulder. The Commando behind him jumped and stabbed, putting their blade in the attackers’ skull as they fell to the ground.

Carsickle turned and slashed a crew member that was winding up for an attack on his fellow Commando. Another Commando jumped in with the two of them, taking the pressure off and letting them actually fight instead of react. Carsickle's mecha was reporting limited mobility on his arms. He didn't have time to care about that. The final Commandos dropped from the ceiling.

“Make a line,” Carsickle said as the groups tried to link up.

“Come on, Commandos!” the female Avarian said as she took a running start and plowed through the enemy once again, leading her squad to link up with the rest. They filled in the gaps, Carsickle finding himself beside the behemoth as she smashed through the gun crews.

“You heard the lady!” Carsickle said with a grin as the Commandos seemed to get a second wind.

The line moved apart as plasmid weaponry and mecha enhanced strength tore the gun crew into tatters. The tide had turned and the Syndicates knew it. They began trying to flee, but finding no exit, they looked panicked, a feeling no one wants to deal with.

“Surrender and you won't be killed or tortured,” Carsickle said, repeating it a few times. The enemy was clearly broken. “Lie down with you face on the deck, if you wish to surrender,” Carsickle said.

“Liars, kill them all!” someone said as they turned and charged forward.

Carsickle and his Commandos drew energy from somewhere as the attackers poured in again. Carsickle ducked, grabbing the sword that came at his head and crushing the swordsman’s hand, his blade taking their arm off. He turned, putting his back into another Syndicate, shaking the hand from the second sword as he continued his turn, bringing his sword across roughly head height. It caught as he let it go and jumped backwards into another Syndicate. As he fell he amped his feet to full power and kicked, his mecha drove through the enemy behind him and put him at their backs. He changed the stolen sword to his dominant hand and charged.

“Down!” a Commando yelled, and Carsickle let his feet go out from under him, the other Commando's dropping too, something that required a lot of trust to do when in the middle of a fight.

Rounds ripped through the enemy gun crew. In seconds not a single thing was standing.

“Clear,” the same voice said as the fighting Commandos jumped to their feet.

Carsickle turned to the Squad leader that had secured the deck above.

“Good work,” he said.

“Sir, I'd best be getting back,” she answered.

Carsickle looked to the second squad with him.

“Take over watching the prisoners and get some rest,” he said, turning back to the other squad Commander. “Now you don't,”

“Thanks sir,” she said, sounding rather pleased to not be on prisoner watch.

“Let's get moving. Zanda's platoon is not going to hold out forever,” Carsickle said as he scanned over his plans, looking for the quickest route to the beleaguered platoon.

Chapter - New Allies and New Enemies

I got to my room, walking straight to my mecha. Krom and Shreesht followed me, but as I got in, neither of them helped me.

“Sir, I suggest that you stay here,” Krom said as I got out of the charging cradle, checking my weaponry.

“I lead this Fleet. I'm not going to sit in my chair and watch it,”

Shreesht took off his helmet and took a knee.

“Forgive me, Battle Master, but I must insist that you stay here,”

“You want me to rot at the rear of the charge,” I said, anger growing. These two were betraying me. My own protection detail!

Krom took off his helmet and similarly took a knee.

“Battle Master, we see that you going into this kind of battle not only puts yourself in jeopardy. It puts entire planets and the Free Fleet in danger. Charging into situations is how we got ripped up on Daestramus,”

“Finally, someone says the truth. I got them killed. I was the one at fault.”

Krom stood, his eyes burning. I took a step back without realizing it.

“Marhtu killed them. You had every good intention, but putting yourself at risk put everything in jeopardy. You lead from the front, and you lead with your people. Bok Soo is the CAMC. It is his place to lead the Commandos. It is yours to lead this Free Fleet and its people. That means dealing with sitting in that seat as people die. Not throwing yourself into battle in hope you can somehow change the tide,” Krom said, his eyes boring into mine.

“But..,”

“Battle Master, you are a great warrior. Yet now we have learned that sometimes the best warriors know when to attack, and when to do their job for the better of the group. You taught us that,” Shreesht said, rising.

“I'm so useless here. The fleet is fine. The Commandos are still down there fighting for their lives,” I said, strength coming into my voice as I felt anger course through me.

“Commandos that you have made sure are trained for this exact thing,” Krom said.

I knew he was right, but I craved, I
needed
, to be there. I didn't want to sit here, numbers and information telling me those that were dead and those that were wounded.

“We will be here alongside you, Commander Salchar, of the Free Fleet,” Krom said, Shreesht nodding his head in agreement.

These two had come through hell with me, and somehow we'd survived. I looked at them and realized the great trust and care that we shared.

“Alright, brothers, I'll listen,” I said, hating myself for the words, but knowing they were right. I would only distract others if I joined in on the fight.

I moved in my mecha, getting comfortable.

“However we need to be somewhere,” I said, the two of them looking at me in askance.

“Foshunti.”

Their eyes became hard as I grinned. Neither of them had lost their distrust for anyone not Free Fleet.

***

Foshunti looked at the three that disembarked the single shuttle that had come from Resilient. He had a sneaking suspicion of who it was. The three beelined for the bridge as half of the Commandos on his ship, made for their docked shuttles.

              It took off and headed towards the second fleet where there was still battles raging. Foshunti had thought about giving them some of his troops in support, but he hadn't been asked and it could hinder more than help with communications and control. The three made it onto the bridge. Two were absolutely massive in their mechas. The third was the same height as Santos but a bit bigger. Santos nodded to them as they conversed. The smallest of the three took his helmet off, Santos doing the same.

“Sir, respectfully I'll keep one squad here,” Santos said.

“Alright, alright. I know when I'm beat,” Salchar said.

Foshunti got his first good look at him. His skin was a motley collection of greys and blacks, it looked rough compared to Santos' skin, one of his red eyes was covered by hair which he flicked out of his face.

“Thank you sir,” Santos said, and Salchar patted his shoulder.

“Good work Commander,” he said, not noticing how Santos beamed as his eyes locked with Foshunti.

“So you're a Dovark,” Salchar said as they got to the same height.

“And you're a human,”

“Not quite,” Salchar said, casting a look over himself.

Foshunti extended his hand, he didn't miss everyone on the bridge looking at the two of them.

“It's good to meet you Salchar. I think you're just what this Universe needs,”

Salchar took his hand. Foshunti was surprised to not have the crushing power of the mecha applied on his hand. It spoke to Salchar's command of the suit. The Syndicates were the ones to call the suits mechas. Lady Fairgate hated suits. Foshunti thought it ridiculous, mechas were supposed to be towering machines, not heavy armour and exoskeleton that fitted right onto the user.

“No need to stroke my ego that much. I'm just a guy fighting for my people, who for some idiotic reason believe in me,” Salchar said.

Foshunti didn't miss the sideways glance of the two that had followed him, as well as Santos, who grinned openly. They released hands as Foshunti moved away from his seat and took a knee. This moment had been sixty years in the making.

“I hand over command of my fleet and my ship to you, and ask you to judge me on the crimes that I have committed. I have kept a personal record,” Foshunti pulled a storage device from his belt.

Salchar held it, his face thoughtful.

“Santos.” The man came close. “Use this on an isolated computer system and tell me your findings.”

              Santos went to a computer bank, doing his bidding as Salchar looked to the crew. Foshunti took in the confused and angered looks at Salchar and himself.

“If it is true that he has committed crimes against innocents then he will be tried in Parnmal and his fate decided that way. All of you will be looked into, any crimes will be dealt with,” Salchar's voice was harsh but level.

“So you're going to kill us all?” Darshoo growled.

“No, we're going to check you over and make sure that if you have any outstanding crimes, that you are punished accordingly. We do not have the death penalty. Most likely you will become part of the work crews that work on Parnmal and her facilities,” Salchar said.

Planner appeared in front of Salchar. He grew from a metallic ball into a creature with similar skin to Salchar, with red eyes and completely bald. He wore a black sash that went from his shoulder to opposite hip and across his waist. Strange lettering that Foshunti couldn't understand ran across his skin. Salchar's eyes widened in surprise and recognition. The two that had come with him dropped to the ground, their suits hammering the deck. Their helmets fell back and he saw that they had the same bald heads and identical skin. They said something in a language that Foshunti's translator couldn't understand. Planner smiled and said something back.

“I know it has been many cycles my children, but there is no need for that,” Planner continued, in translatable tongues.

The two rose, one with black eyes, the other with red. They looked like damn terrifying demons, yet they looked at the Planner with such reverence Foshunti wondered what else the Planner had been doing with his time.

“I have heard of how you saved my children, Salchar,” Planner said, bowing his head.

“So it was you that sent Resilient the information about the planet,”

“Yes, and I asked her to keep it from you that I had. I didn't want to show my hand then,” Planner said, his voice deeper.

“Well you'll be happy to know we dropped a few ice asteroids on her, they made really good meteorites,” Salchar said.

“I know. I still have my shield there,” Planner smirked.

“Yes, which my engineer is going to pester the living heck out of you about,” Salchar said, shaking his head. “This last week has had more surprises and genies coming out of the wood work than ever before.”

“Just in time,” Planner said, his tone serious.

He caught Foshunti's questioning glance.

“The Kalu have returned,” he said and Foshunti felt a chill run down his spine as everyone recoiled from Planner.

***

Malica prowled his command deck. He was the First Prime to Lord Doqua, the second tier third rank fleet leader of Clan Leader Edvasho, the Dominator. Edvasho had survived the great teacher, the war with the pacifist Union. The Kalu had been badly bloodied and many left without star transport. Edvasho had been a Captain at the time. He went planet to planet, claiming the right to lead through battle. He had done what no other had. He had united the clans.

He gave them purpose and instructions. They had built star warriors that would take them to the Union to take their rich lands and claim them as their own hunting grounds. His real power was in his war-brother Ashota. Ashota had not been given honorable death o the battlefield, instead he had become a cripple. But what had taken away his body had focused his mind. He was a Kalu of whispers, of information. He knew everything about anyone important and was the reason Edvasho had never been blindsided by a fight for the right to lead.

Edvasho had finally said that the first star warriors were ready to be deployed. Lord Doqua had fought viciously for the right. He had gained it and now he rested as his First Prime led his ships in his stead.

“We are picking up a fleet of the Union,” the Seer said.

“Wake Lord Doqua and bring the warriors to readiness,” Malica ordered.

Lord Doqua appeared on the main screen moments later. He flashed anger and joy, ruffling is mane. Malica did the same. He would follow his lord to battle. If death was the outcome there was no better death to be had.

“Charge them,” Doqua growled as the star warriors accelerated.

Malica flopped his paws over the saddle on his command deck, a cupped section covered the rest of him, and his command crew were similarly secured. Then the Star warriors started really accelerating. Fusion bombs dropped behind the craft, exploding, their force hitting reinforced plates and pushing them forward as they closed with the enemy. Malica felt the pressures of extreme gravity all over his body. He reveled in it as he lurched. He felt like he had as a cub, chasing after prey with his galloping gait before he pounced.

We shall give their warriors a valiant death and contest each of their worlds till we are victorious, h
e thought, battle hormones coursing through his veins.

***

Captain Lord Lifendi watched as the ships came online. They must have been in the system coasting towards their next jump when they saw him. They had quickly lit their drives and within a matter of hours started accelerating at incredible speeds. Their ships were simple cigar looking things, each of them two hundred meters long and with their weaponry located on their bow or facing forward, there were no port or starboard facing cannons. They looked to have missiles and laser turrets.

              He sent a message off to Lady Fairgate as he looked to his crew. They were the best that he could pull from the ranks of the Syndicate, it was clear that they were scared. Even with their massive fleet, they were outnumbered, there was four hundred of the ships coming at them.

“Send an empty Corvette flying right out at them and begin charging wormhole generators,”

He needed to know the capabilities of this new enemy. He waited as the thrumming built of the wormhole generators, the Corvette sped towards the incoming enemy, going at speeds that would've harmed the crew. It was five hours later that he saw the result.

Missiles leapt from ships, crashing into the Corvette as its automated PDS systems failed to keep up with the fire. Lasers shredded the Corvette even as it came apart. There was little left as it came out the other side of the Kalu ships. Murmurs went through the crew as Lifendi looked over the sensors report. The lasers were higher powered, faster versions of his own PDS, and the missiles were straight fusion bomb pumped X-ray's and lasers.

A Dreadnought's shields would only last three or five hits before failing. Dread filled him as for the first time, he wished that he hadn't betrayed the Union to get the position he deserved. He took his ships through the wormhole, the Star warriors still advancing. He couldn't hear the baying for blood that was happening in every warrior, but the sound chilled his blood anyway. The second war of teaching had begun, and this time the Kalu were going to teach their enemy why they should wipe them all out.