The gentle hum of the Ship’s engines did little to help the tired eyed Jack who was leaning most of his weight against the holographic display table in the middle of the command deck of the GCS Fata Morgana. The blonde haired Jack looked up, he wearily scanned the room, filled the ship's Senior and Junior officers, along side the officers of his Regiment.
“So… we’re in agreement then… we’ll use the Captain’s idea here to cover our landing and establish a beachhead on Deltia?” Jack confirmed, his voice showing how little sleep he had gotten.
Warren “Bull” Smith, a Captain in charge of the 1st Company of the 7th Nikitia Regiment, nodded in silence before the bearded man thought of something to say, “I’m all for this plan, but… what about the rest of the invasionary forces? Chances are they’ll just launch as is in the shuttles.”
Jack glanced over at him before looking back at the holographic display, “Fuck’em, they’re regular army, chances are they’ll just ignore our warnings and ideas anyways, best to focus on ourselves for the time being. Only people I care about are those of the 7th and the beings on this ship.”
“Not only that,”, Colonel Aesilla chimed in, cat-like yellow eyes twitching between each of the officers in turn, “If we inform the command staff of this plan, they may well veto it. If we don’t say shit, they can’t tell us ‘no.”
Jack nodded in agreement, “My thoughts as well. We all know those old fuckers tend to be too old school to accept such ideas. Hell… half of those guys calling themselves Generals haven’t even seen a battle in their entire lives, so best just keep this to ourselves for now.”
His reply came with a wave of silence as the other officers from the 7th just nodded in nervous silence. Despite his young age, the Colonel of the 7th was someone who had already seen his fair share of combat since the rebellion started some two years ago, and each battle had left a lasting scar on the short haired blonde.
Scratching the back of his head a bit, the Militia Colonel pushed himself upright, his free hand sliding into the pocket of his grey and black trimmed uniform. “Captain, anything else you’d like to add before we come out of warp?” He asked, turning towards the Cat-like alien woman.
“The shuttles should be flown in a bomber formation, instead of a standard approach.”, She reasoned, “Fields of fire will be important when enemy fighters start moving in, and bomber formations maximize the area each individual weapon can cover. Do not, under any circumstances, break off on your own. Remember that you’re towing your brothers in arms’ lifeline behind you.”, Aesilla’s last direction being for the senior pilots present. She left out the part where it was her lifeline too, knowing full well that if they left the slower freighter in the dust on the descent, it would likely be torn to shreds by hostile fighter craft.
The officers nodded once in nervous silence as they tried their best to steel themselves for the battle about to come.
“Ladies, gentlemen, you have your orders. Major Knight, I’ll need you and third Company to stay with the Captain and her ship to provide security when we land. The rest of the 7th will fan out and begin forming a beachhead once we’re on the ground.” Jack ordered, calling the Army Captain a Major to avoid any confusion between the Naval rank and the Army rank.
Elizabeth Knight, a raven haired woman of 23 who stood 5’9”, sighed but agreed. “Sir.”
Jack then turned over to Captain Warran “Bull” Smith and gave him a slight nod letting him know to dismiss everyone.
“Alright, time to armour up. No wasting time getting your shit on.” Bull barked, letting everyone know they were dismissed.
Once all the officers began to shuffle out of the room, Jack turned to Aesilla, giving her a small smile, “I hope your pilots are as good as my troopers Captain.” He joked lightly, knowing quite well that the Fata had the best pilots in the fleet.
“They’ve towed the point defense guns before, Colonel”, Aesilla responded casually, “Of course, the last time they did so the idea was to surprise a group of pirates after my cargo. This is a little bit different from ‘mining’ a location with point defenses, but nothing they can’t handle.”
Aesilla smirked, knowing full well that the ‘pirates’ had been custom vessels, but a simple smirk over the escapade would not betray such.
“Ha! True enough… the ‘pirates’ tended to enjoy taking whatever they could from people. Hell, bastards tried to take our grains back on Nikita. Sure as hell gave them a good scare when they tried.” Jack replied with a grin, shaking his head lightly at the moment. “Well… good luck to you Captain. You’ll have the hardest part in this fight, more so since you’re having to fight an enemy fleet, and defend against possible air strikes once were grounded.” He continued before looking over towards the blade strapped to her belt. “Won’t be able to use that all too much unless you’re with my men and women in the front… gods know I’ll have a fair bit of use with mine.” He added tapping the hilt of his own unique sabre, made from a new type of metal that made for an almost unbreakable blade, able to cleave through almost anything if the right amount of force was put into a swing.
“I doubt this vessel will be of much use a loft without its point defense available.”, Aesilla replied with a look of slight confusion, “Better to stay planetside and provide heavy weapons support from beneath the batteries the shuttles will be landing. This ship is carrying all the supplies for the beachhead after all.”
“True, which is why I’m leaving you with the third Company, they’ll help you and your crew start the construction of the FOB once you’re able. I’ll do my best to keep the Reds from swarming you guys. The Seventh will hold… we always do.” Jack replied warmly, trying to reassure his fellow Senior officer.
“It might be worth digging a few furrows into the ground with the gear before we touch down if they’re going to swarm our position.”, Aesilla noted, “Thoughts?”
Aesilla looked to the Militia Colonel, gauging his response.
“Well, given how we’re trained to make the slit trench when establishing defenses, I’d have to agree. Would be rather suicidal if we didn’t make some sort of defensive network… more so with all the enemy artillery being fired at us.” He replied soundly, folding his arms over his chest.
“Looks like the new armor plating will be good for something.”, Aesilla commented to herself before continuing, “The Fata Morgana will make a circle around the LZ with gear dug in before setting down then. The enemy will be shocked when they see the defenses we have so soon after landing.”
Aesilla couldn’t help but give a slight chuckle at the thought of the red jacketed troops’ eyes going wide.
“Should prove to be a rather interesting sight for sure. But… Ah, nevermind, I best head to the armoury and get myself ready then. Best of luck to you Captain.” Jack said warmly, before standing at attention and giving a crisp and well-practiced salute to the ship commander, before turning about and quickly vanishing behind the automatic sliding doors.
Aesilla returns the salute, albeit much less practiced, before returning to the command chair of the vessel to await the moment when the GCS Fata Morgana would come down from warp speed and show the Ascendancy just how it got its name.
Aesilla didn’t have long to wait. Within the hour, the confederate fleet had arrived and was forming up for the assault on Deltia. The Ascendancy fleet was likewise assuming battle posture as the rebel forces approached, assuming a carrier battlegroup formation. The air was tense on the command deck of every ship in the rebel fleet, knowing full well what it meant to take on genuine warships specifically designed for their role.
The tension was further heightened on the command deck of the Fata Morgana by the knowledge that the vessel was going into the engagement with no point defense weapons attached. The situation was further compounded by an early fighter launch by the Ascendancy forces, putting everyone on the edge of their seat. Rebel forces kept their fighters aboard as long as was advisable, using the hull structure of their carrier vessels to protect the fragile craft until their time to sortie.
“Looks like they want to be done with us as quickly as possible.”, Aesilla mused aloud before grinning the pointed, toothy grin of evil itself, “Keep our ship to the center of our formation, and wait for the command staff to signal descent. In the meantime, direct the dorsal railgun at any light vessels that give us the chance. The fewer possible flanking units the better.”
Aesilla then set about studying the battlefield both through the viewscreen, and the tactical hologram beside her.
The ascendancy forces were employing a standard battle strategy, enclosing their carrier in a protective bubble of warships and allowing their fighter craft to do the bulk of the work.
“Pretty much what we expected, Captain.”, The XO observed, bringing the Captain out of her thoughts, then querying with a bit of alarm, “Isn’t that Destroyer lining up right in our descent path?”
Aesilla simply nodded, seemingly unconcerned by the enemy vessel’s position.
The XO pressed the issue further, “Shouldn’t we be doing something about it, Captain? If we’re to land, that ship will have to be cleared out of position.”
“Take a look at the enemy formation compared to our own, Commander.”, Aesilla replied, “Tell me what you see.”
Aesilla was already fairly certain of what she had observed, but sought to confirm her appraisal of the situation.
“They’re using a standard formation, save for the one destroyer.”, the commander assessed, “They protect their capital ships while allowing their aerospace wing to go to work.”
“They’re protecting their capital ships with most of a fleet, and only dispatching one destroyer to cover a possible landing route.”
The XO’s jaw dropped in a moment of pure recognition.
“Their priority isn’t to stop the landing.”
“No, it’s not. Launch the transports and their trailers. The Ascendancy is about to have a really bad day.”
With that order, the alarms signalling imminent engagement began sounding throughout the vessel in advance of an early launch of the transport craft.
Jack’s footsteps echoed throughout the metal hallway as he made his way towards the armoury, his eyes drawn to the floor as he continued to walk, his mind lost in thought as he felt the butterflies begin to dance around in his gut, letting him know he was both scared and nervous as hell for what was coming. It wasn’t until he heard a familiar voice call out to him from around the corner.
“Jack, you good?”
The Colonel quickly snapped up to face the owner of the voice, quickly spotting the Regimental doctor, Michael “Mother Fucking” Tylor. “Mike? What’re you doing here?” He asked, scanning his friend noting the combat heavy steel armour that looked like a sleek armoured suit that gave the wearer an extra foot in height. “... and what are you doing in the armour?” He finished, raising a brow curious.
“Going down there with you guys, no way I’m missing this party, given how you and I both know that I’ll do more good being able to treat the wounded as they’re hit. More so with the ship right there.” Mike replied with a sly grin, which an experienced soldier could tell, was hiding a faint hint of fear.
Jack shook his head, “Alright man, I can’t stop you. You hold the same rank as me, all I can say is stick with the First Company when the fighting starts.”
Mike raised his hands quickly, “It’s fine Jack, I still remember my training. Remember, we were in all the same engagements. My blade will be drawn and ready along with my pistol.
Jack walked past, giving a reassuring smile as he patted Mike’s shoulder as he walked past. “See you down there Doc.”
“Yeah man. Good luck brother.”
Smiling, Jack nodded, “Thanks.” and with that he turned and vanished around the corner.
Once he was around the corner, he spotted the sign indicating that he was close to the armoury. Taking in one more deep breath to steady his nerves. As he let the air out from his lungs, he raised his head, and began walking towards the armoury. As the massive metal doors slid open upon his arrival, the young Colonel was greeted with the sight of all his men, women, and alien soldiers doing their final armour checks, before each would begin to make their way towards the shuttles.
“Officer on deck!” Shouted a nearby Nikita Sergeant, and within moments the entire room shuffled about and everyone quickly went to attention, their armoured boots slamming against the metal floor as they did.
“As you were.” Jack replied quickly as he gave them all a quick salute in reply.
It didn’t take long for them all to quickly turn and resume their final checks, with some even walking past and out of the armoury as they had finished their final preparations just moments before his arrival.
Looking around Jack found himself remembering his first battle, a mere inexperienced Captain, whose commission and rank were bought by his father upon the war coming to their doors. An old and ancient tradition that had long since been pushed aside by all modern military forces… but with the lack of funds to fully pay the massive army it had, the Galactic Confederation had resorted to allowing those with money and a post-secondary education to purchase and fund their own militia’s; so long as they still followed the orders of their superiors and disbanded upon the war’s end.
“You’re gears over there sir. Took the liberty to check the Mk. IV battle armour myself.” Came the voice of the same Sergeant that had alerted the soldiers to his arrival.
“Thanks Sergeant… but I could’ve done that myself, you really did-” Before he could even finish what he was about to say, he was cut off by the Sergeant’s hand.
“Would’ve taken you far too long sir.” He interjected.
“More so, seeing how long it took you to finish flirting with the ship’s Captain.” Added Warran, who walked up, towering a whole foot over Jack after having finished arming himself in his battle gear.
Jack frowned at the notion, given how unprofessional it would be to even consider doing such a thing given the situation they were heading in. “Captain Smith, I don’t think I need to remind you of your position… do I?” He growled in annoyance, his emerald green eyes shooting daggers into his bearded friends.
Bull quickly raised his hands in apology, “Sorry, sir, just trying to lighten the mood is all.”
Letting out a small sigh, waved it off, “No… I’m sorry, I… I’d rather not worry about such things. But, changing the subject, you notice that Mike’s joining us?”
“I did indeed. He was one of the first to get into his combats before the rest of us.”
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
Peering over towards his own locker, “Mhm… Well, I’ve told him to stick with your company during the battle. He’ll be safer with you and yours when the fighting starts.”
Bull grunted his agreement, “I’d say, since we’ll be the ones in the trenches.”
“Indeed.”
“Sirs, I’ll have to excuse myself here, I’ll meet you at the shuttles.” Interjected the sergeant who coughed into his armoured hand to gain the two officers attention.
“Ah, yes, sorry Sergeant. I’ll meet you down there once I’m geared up. Captain.” Jack replied before turning to Bull and giving him a slight nod before walking to his gear.
It didn’t take long for him to get into his combat armour, rather it was fairly fast given how many times he had worn it, plus with all the checks having been done ahead of time thanks to his regimental sergeant, he was done and ready for battle. The last piece of gear to get attached to his Mark IV armour, was his Nikitian steel sabre, its spotted gold leaf metal guard slightly glinting in the artificial light. The sabre had been a gift from his mother upon him joining the war movement. Originally its hilt was covered in gold leaf, and the blade didn’t look so rough, and the hilt itself was wrapped in red leather, with a silver metal wrapping around it to act as a grip. Though now, much of the luster had worn off, with most of the ‘fancy’ stuff having been through the constant battles it had seen… and the blood that had been spilt on it.
After some time walking through the halls towards the hangar bay, he noticed all 2000 of his soldiers each loading up in their landing shuttles. Still a surprising and impressive sight to see. Though, he didn’t take another glance as he quickly shook off all thoughts and made his way to the 2nd Company’s shuttle, loading in, he gave the Captain in charge of the company a small nod of acknowledgment, which was quickly returned the doffing in kind before he walked up to sit beside the Captain and his more junior officers; 3 Lieutenants.
“Ladies and gentlemen, how’re you feeling today?” Jack asked to try and break the silence.
The young lieutenants -around the same age as himself- all looked at the Colonel, giving him confused looks. “Uh… good… good, nervous, but good.”
“Good, good, wonder if Bull’s going to charge into the enemy line again like he did on Phatomia-One four months ago.” Jack reminisced.
Though just as he was starting to remember the battle in question, the large steel bulk doors closed, sealing all the men, women, and aliens within the ‘metal coffin’. The invasion was about to commence.
“Shuttles are away captain.”, reported the XO, “What are your orders?”
“Fire up the backup warp drive.”, Aesilla calmly replied, much to the confusion of the bridge crew, then followed the order with a statement that cleared it up, “Set a course, short jump, directly adjacent the enemy carrier. All guns traverse to 270 and prepare to fire on my mark.”
Nervously, the bridge crew began carrying out their orders. The captain had another crazy strategy that was sure to be flashy, attention getting, and above all, dangerous. As they prepared the GCS Fata Morgana for the jump, they strapped themselves into their seats and sealed their visors, preparing for the worst.
“Execute jump.”
In an instant, the Fata Morgana had left its previous position with the fleet and, borne by its backup warp system, reappeared next to an intensely astounded, befuddled, and terrified Admiral’s carrier.
“Target their engines, salvo one, ….. FIRE!”
Before the Ascendancy fleet had even the time to register the threat suddenly in their midst, the engines of their carrier vessel were torn to pieces by a quartet of railgun rounds from both dorsal and ventral turrets aboard the Fata Morgana.
“Turn to port, 315, descent, salvo two, FIRE!”
This time, as the Fata Morgana placed itself in the rear arc of the opposing fleet’s main force, the carrier’s starboard engines came under fire, destroying another compartment, and damaging the remaining thrusters in the fourth.
The Fata Morgana then shuddered as it came under fire, directed at it by the remaining enemy destroyer. New alarms began to sound aboard the converted freighter as several compartments along the starboard side were breached.
“Damage control to starboard passages B-7 through C-12.”, Aesilla ordered, cursing at the sudden incoming fire, “Shore up the armored bulkheads. We’ve got shrapnel penetration.”
Aesilla noted the slow venting of the atmosphere from the vessel, knowing that the shells fired were projectiles rather than energy weapons.
“Reverse horizontal course by 50%”, The captain ordered just in time for the armor that had been installed on her vessel during its conversion to bounce the next enemy volley, “That thing’s a relic! Leave it in our dust!”
The Fata Morgana’s crew happily complied with the order, descending toward the planet as they did so. They were also surprised to find this lone destroyer their only pursuit, at least as far as the atmospheric envelope it was ill equipped for operating in, as the remainder of the Ascendancy fleet now had a carrier with almost no propulsion sitting within the upper limits of a planet’s gravity well, while under attack by a rebel fleet. In Captain Aesilla’s estimation, they no longer had the capacity to do anything about the Confederacy's landing, and it would likely be all they could do to tow their carrier out of the system. If the Confederate fleet failed to capitalize on the situation Aesilla had just created.
“Damage control teams, prepare for firefighting actions.”
Aesilla was keenly aware that as soon as the vessel entered the atmosphere, it would be probable to encounter fires in the breached compartments, given the sudden influx of an oxygen supply to the damaged sections of the ship.
“CIC, what’s the status on our landing craft?”, queried the captain, “We don’t want to approach from an unexpected vector and draw our own point defense guns’ fire.”
As the shuttles launched from the ship, everyone shook as the ship hit the atmosphere, the metal coffin and its inhabitants were quickly greeted by the defensive fire from the planets forces based there. Many of the shuttles trying to make the landing were shot out of the sky as they made the descent, all except the shuttles of the 7th, which were guarded by their mother ship the Fata Morgana, whose defensive guns shot down any and all missiles that tried to take them down. With much luck as well, the shuttles carrying the 7th landed peacefully on Deltia, though the ground forces stationed there, were quick to begin firing on the shuttles, the ballistic rounds punching the protective shielding of the ‘metal coffins’. Within moments the large bulk metal doors opened up with the deadly payload charging out, Jack being among them, with sabre raised.
“Forward! Push them back, form a circle around the land site!” Jack barked loudly, ignoring the rounds that shot past his armoured head.
Sure enough the 7th began to quickly fire upon the Ascendancy ground forces, each soldier doing their best to hit the weak points on the enemy armour, which was the same type of armour as the ones worn by the Confederates, however the grey metal was instead painted to be a metallic red on the upper torso, while the helmet was kept a dull grey, with the only red being spotted belonging to the protective HUD eye shaped monocle’s.
Already the two forces were quick to shorten the distance between each other. The Second Company quickly growing close to the point Jack raised the sabre high into the air and bellowed,
“Charge!”
Jack quickly bolted ahead of his troops, his sabre gripped firmly in his right hand whilst his left held his pistol, adrenaline shooting through him as he charged forward. As his armoured boot stepped atop the mud mound, he leap into a group of Red’s each quickly twisting about ready to lash out in defense, the first man coming quickly screaming out as he charged forward with bayonet affixed to the barrel of his rifle. Jack’s HUD began to blink green to his right, quickly alerting him of the oncoming enemy, and in quick succession, Jack pulled his blade up, deflecting the bladed rifle, before he brought his pistol up and into the throat of his attacker, pulling the trigger firing two rounds into the man’s throat and skull, killing him instantly, his body falling lifeless to the ground. But the young Colonel didn’t have time to rest as two more came his way, from behind. Quickly utilizing the slick ground, he used his added weight of the armour to spin around on his right hee, his blade brought back before he swung it outward, cleaving the second attacker in two, a bloody mess spraying and falling into the muddy ground below, while the third was unlucky as the blade stopped halfway through his chest, causing a wave of pain to shoot through the man, a scream soon escaping from his lips, before it was abruptly ended as Jack slammed the rest of the blade through with the palm of his hand, killing the man. Standing there, covered in the blood of three men, the fourth stopped, fear shooting through him for a moment before he mustered his courage charging forward with a small warcry. Jack turned around barrel of his pistol up and at point blank range, before he squeezed the trigger, sending an AP round ripping through the face shield of the helmet and into the skull of the fourth. The Red’s body falling limp before collapsing lifelessly in the bloody mud. The gruesome scene did little to affect the armoured officer, who just shrugged off the deed with a cold intolerance before walking to his next group of victims. A dark bloodlust having seemingly taken over the young officer.
The second squad had witnessed the slaughter of their comrades, each quickly fired their weapons towards him. Jack, dived into the mud hole, just barely avoiding their barrage, before turning and gripping the hilt of his sabre, cut upward, cutting the first of his new targets into a crimson mess. Pulling the blade back, he lunged forward thrusting his sabre through the next Red’s face, the blade protruding from the back. Letting his blade go, he shifted about grabbing hold of the other man as he tried to thrust towards him with his bayonet. Getting him around in a hold, Jack pulled out his bayonet, stabbing the tip through the back of the man’s skull, twisting it, killing him instantly. The others began to run for their lives, only to be gunned down as Bull and his men came over the edge, firing a barrage of AP rounds into the retreating soldiers.
“Fuck man! You bug me for charging into the enemy and there you go doing just that, but WORSE! Hahaha! Gods, you really fucked those Reds right up.” Bull said, as he came walking up to his friend and commanding officer.
Jack was quickly snapped back to reality, brought back by the voice of his closest friend and ally. “Ah… yeah… heh, I suppose so. But, that doesn’t matter, what’s the status of the our advance?” He asked, trying to shift the conversation to something else.
Bull raised a brow before shaking any questions he might have had away to answer the one he was asked. “Objective has been achieved, strawberries in a full rout. More than likely heading back to the safety of their fortress.” As he spoke, he pointed over towards the massive defensive structure in the distance, situated on a large hill that provided a 360 view around the region.
Nodding slowly Jack rested his weight on the hilt of his blade still dug deep into the man’s head. “Oh fuck!” Quickly spotting the sight he pulled the blade free, before apologizing to the corpse. “Best not to dishonour the dead… they’ve earned their peace.” He muttered to himself before turning up to see their home base come through the grey clouds.
“Well, here come the air defense batteries.”, Aesilla muttered to herself, recalling that the original plan had been to stay with the landing craft and their point defense batteries on the way down. Now, the Fata Morgana was descending through the atmosphere, without its point defense guns, and the opposing air defense systems had clearly not been overwhelmed enough by the multitude of landing craft coming in to ignore the bulk freighter rapidly descending toward the designated drop zone.
As the ship’s newly installed sensors were displaying across tactical displays in multiple locations on the bridge, the vessel had attracted several substantially sized weapons, and the distance was rapidly decreasing.
“Well, this is either going to work really well, or make us really dead.”, Aesilla cursed under her breath before proceeding with the next order, “Jettison the starboard weapon hatches.”
For a moment, the bridge crew froze, knowing full well the consequences of such an action at high speeds, would be dramatic. On the one hand, the fires now burning in the starboard section of the ship would be exposed to a massive surge of air as the plates covering the vacant point defense hardpoints flew off the vessel, but on the other hand the sudden alteration of the hull shape would cause substantial drag on that side of the vessel, which just might allow for a sudden enough change in direction to shake the missiles headed for the ship, while simultaneously placing hot metal directly in their path.
Most of the bridge crew didn’t catch on, and were about to protest, but the executive officer had seen his captain pull off too many supposedly impossible escapes to doubt her now, and silenced the crew with but one sentence.
“If it works, we live.”, he stated simply, “If not, we’re dead anyway.”
The crew went silent, steeling themselves for the inevitable shock of a change in forces being put upon the structure, and deployed the miniature charges designed to remove the plates sealing the maintenance sections in the vicinity of the hardpoints in question.
The Fata Morgana Jerked violently to one side, entering a spin, with a metallic groan, and its rate of descent skyrocketed. The vessel broke through the cloud deck just as the helmsman recovered the spin, her starboard side ablaze, trailing thick, acrid, black smoke behind her. The vessel leveled off just in time for the bridge crew to see the clouds above light up like a fireball, as multiple enemy warheads detonated on or near the hot metal they had thrown from the ship.
“Fires spreading into passages B-6 and C-13!”, reported the engineering station, “The bulkhead isn’t stopping the spread!”
“Out of the frying pan and into the fire, it seems.”, Aesilla noted, then issued the order all shipboard crews dread, “General quarters! All hands to fire stations!”
Outwardly, the Fata Morgana appeared to be descending tranquility into the protective envelope of its point defense guns, but within there was absolute chaos. Corridors choke with smoke so thick that the emergency lighting may as well have been offline, filled with crew members in respirators desperately trying to put foam to glowing spots of light in their visors.
The hangar, vacant, flight operations suspended.
Troop barracks empty, save for a myriad of personal effects that tell the life story of those who traveled aboard as if a ghost ship.
In the halls, in stark contrast, the roar of flames, the screams of burning, dying men, women, and those otherwise undefined, some familiar, some bone chillingly alien to the sheltered ear.
The Fata Morgana, though successful in its mission, would bear yet more ghosts from this day forward.
Upon reaching the ground, the Fata Morgana promptly opened all external hatches, permitting a steady stream of the injured to be removed from what may yet become a stricken vessel, in the interest of erring on the side of caution. Likewise, the supplies carried within the cargo hold were in need of rapid extraction, perhaps even more so than more bodies were needed to smother the flames rapidly approaching an uncontrolled state.
Aboard the bridge, a very agitated captain finally made contact with the ground troops.
“Fata Morgana to FOB Mudhole.”, Aesilla called over in a surly tone, “Firefighting action required in the LZ.”
Aesilla was unsure of what the location she was touching down in was to be called once it was established as a beachhead, but given the price she had just paid to arrive there she didn’t much feel like calling it anything more glorified. Even so, it was unlikely that anyone would be confused by the impromptu ‘designation’ given the identity of the ship making the call, and that it was reporting that it had arrived at its expected location.
The 7th Nikita all watched as the Fata Morgana came landing at a gentle halt, though the sudden sounds of screams that began to fill the air alerted those on the ground that something was amiss. Even when Aesilla’s voice came over the the speakers announcing the request for aid, no one needed to be told as everyone who wasn’t on watch rushed to the aid of the ship's crew.
“Everyone to the ship! Put out the fires! Go, go, go!” Barked the Regimental Sergeant, whose order was soundly carried out by any and all soldiers free.
Even Jack himself quickly rushed forward to lend his aid. The firefight took well over two hours to finally put out, but when it was completed… that that could be seen was a burnt wreck, and the bodies of the dead, burnt or killed by shrapnel during the battle in space. As the bodies were slowly carried off, each going into a new makeshift military grave, setup just a bit outside their picket lines. The bodies of both the Ascendancy’s and Confederates all being treated with military honours as they were all put into the muddy ground of Deltia.
Jack, Bull, Knight, and Taylor all stood silently in the bridge of the ship, each of the officers standing in thought. “A lot died today…” Jack mumbled softly, as he took a sip from the cup of water he held in his hands.
Everyone raised their cups in agreement.
Turning to Aesilla, “How’re you holding up Captain?” He asked, noting how she had suffered the most in the landing.
“Things will never be the same aboard this ship, Colonel.”, Aesilla replied, “The crew members I lost on the descent were exceptional in their given field. They’re not replaceable.”
The captain’s expression was rather standoffish, and her mood quite sour.
“No one is replaceable, no matter how much the Generals and politicians try to tell us otherwise…” Jack replied quickly with a frown as he thought back to the 12 men and women he lost in the recent battle.
“Nearly anyone can be trained to run a ship, or carry a rifle, or, hell, even lead soldiers,”, Aesilla continued, “But nobody can replicate the ability of crack troops straight out of training, ….. Or crew members who have been through countless tight spots as one cohesive entity. Even the best in another unit won’t quite mesh as easily as their predecessors.”
“Mhm, agreed, but nothing you can do but move on sadly… You know as well as I do, that people die in war. We all signed on knowing that. Hell, for all we know, I could be next to die when the orders come to take that fortress over there on that hill.” Jack replied, turning to look over at the imposing structure in the distance.
Bull and the other militia officers just remained silent, none having much to say or add to the conversation. “I… I’m heading out for the night sir, ma’am.” Bull saluted, before walking out of the room.
“Likewise, I’ll see you all in the morning.” Knight stated, as she quickly downed the rest of her water and beat a hasty retreat to her bunk down in the lower levels of the ship.
Eventually, it was just Jack and Aesilla.
“Any particular reason why we can’t just level the thing with the ship’s guns?”, Aesilla asked offhand, hoping against all the odds that there wouldn’t be one.
Jack turned back to Aesilla, before giving a sad shake to state a negative. “Command wants that fortress for our use against the Ascendancy. They’re hoping to save money and manpower by having us capture that hellhole, and use it against the ones who built it… much like the armour and weapons we use.” He replied sourly. “But hey, at least you don’t have to assault those walls, right?” He added, trying to bring some sense of relief to the alien woman.
“After all that, they’re just ordering you into a meat grinder.”
The venom in the single sentence hung in the air like a cloud on a windless day. After all the damage the Fata Morgana had sustained, and all the horrific loss of life suffered, the Colonel had as much as told her it was for nought.
“Your command staff is beginning to remind me of the Ascendancy.”
Jack smiled sourly as he thought how ironic it all was when she made the observation. “Just part of the job. Thankfully for them, they have a man without a significant other to lead the 7th, so my death is just another notch in the war, but, it is what it is, I joined to bring some change, and even if the government doesn’t change much in terms of style, so long as you and the others are free and treated as equals, my death will not have been in vain.” He replied with a smile as he turned once more to the fortress. “Thankfully, the seventh is considered as being the luckier of the regiments from my homeworld.”
“Freedom isn’t something one can be given.”, Aesilla countered, “Freedom is realizing that you can do whatever the hell you want, whether others like it or not.”
She took a moment to let that statement sink into the Colonel’s mind before continuing,
“You’re more a slave than I. Still, even slaves aren’t suicidal.”
Jack raised a brow, “True, but freedom can also be earned. Why I fight… pfft, who am I kidding, I’m just doing this because my family’s honour pushed me to join this conflict. Though I do believe in the cause of which we fight for… So at least leave me with the one good notion that I’m fighting for something good at least, rather than just another conflict that only sees to the name of the government changing.” He replied with a small grin before sighing lightly and patting the Captain on the shoulder. “Besides, if something does happen to me, at least you don’t have to worry about seeing this ugly mug trudging about your ship.” Though it was a dark joke, he hoped it might add some level of ease to the situation.
“There’s more than one way to skin a feline, Colonel.”, Aesilla anticipated, “What if they came to you instead?”
Jack gave her a small grin, interest now welling up behind his eyes as he looked into her own cat like eyes. “Oh? That would make it a fair bit more… easier. Though, sadly, we’ve thought of that before back on Travin, during the Hydra campaign a year ago. Bastards wouldn’t come out no matter what we did… But, that’s not to say I’m not willing to hear your idea, chances are you might come up with a better idea than our former commander did.” Jack replied, leaning back against the nearby wall.
“That fortress is made of material that doesn’t burn, and my ship has a fuel tank rupture.”, Aesilla answered with a spitballed idea, “What prevents us from just getting over their heads and pouring fuel on them?”
“Their guns? But… if we can get our people in space to fire on them while we fly over… chances are it might work. Smoke’em out.”
“Direct fire air defense. I haven’t run across that in a while.”, Aesilla reminisced, “These days it’s usually missiles or some other manner of guided munitions.”
Jack shrugged, “Nothing new, more or less how I became Colonel of the Seventh. Last Colonel died because of the Ascendancy’s air defence guns.. Major died in that one too… sad day that.”
“Direct fire weapons have one major weakness, Colonel.”, Aesilla answered confidently, “They need to be able to elevate or depress to a sufficient angle to engage a target, as well as a clear traverse. Placing direct fire weapons on that position creates a giant blind spot near the ground. A blind spot no proper military craft can exploit, but a freighter won’t have any problems with the approach. Sometimes, it pays to be smaller that a destroyer.”
Jack grinned, “I like how you think Captain. I’m willing to try anything if it means preventing any more of my or your troops from dying.”
“I bet you can get them to surrender rather than be burned alive.”, Aesilla commented, “The smell of fuel should be a better motivator than whatever your last commander tried.”
“True enough.” He replied with the same grin, before pushing himself off the wall as he walked towards the holo display. “I’ll deploy my Regiment along this way, and I’ll also contact the other units in the area to begin surrounding the fortress. That way… should there still be any fight in them after all that, they’ll walk out of the pot and into the fire.” Pausing to look back at the Captain, “If all goes well, we’ll have the planet under our control by the end of tomorrow at the latest.”
“The sooner we have control, the sooner we can fortify for the inevitable counterattack.”, Aesilla concurred, “And the sooner we can patch up this ship.”
“Agreed, but, for now I suggest we get some rest before we start giving everyone the news of the plan. I’m sure you’re just as tired as I am after the events of today.”
“Rest will not come easy for the immediate future.”, Aesilla replied in an irritated tone, “But you have a point. If we’re going to do this, the pre dawn hours would be best.”
Jack patted Aesilla’s shoulder, “I understand, but you and I both know we have to force ourselves to sleep… even if we need the Doc, to pump us full of some sleeping drugs.”
Aesilla blinked twice at the Colonel’s statement that he understood. It had not occurred to her that the scent of blood permeating the vessel could be as potent a contact high for human beings as for her people. Caught a bit off guard, Aesilla simply nodded, and proceeded to order the ship to lights out in preparation for the coming operation. With a little bit of luck, the smell wafting through the ship’s ventilation systems would have less of an effect on her ability to find rest as would the stillness and silence that would soon follow as the soldiers and ship’s crew all nodded off.
Before too long, the Fata Morgana was silent as the grave. For many, whose spirits’ voices echoed through the corridors and compartments of the damaged vessel, it quite genuinely was one.