GDA gunship, Berge system
‘Fucking wake up, you lazy bastard—d’you know how bloody heavy you are in that stupid suit?’ shouted a voice Bache thought he recognised from somewhere close, although his mind was a little confused as to where he was and what was going on.
Bache struggled open one eye to see a blurry helmet, cracks all across the visor, lying a few centimetres from his face. He tried to reply, but there was something over his mouth. Pain ripped up his arm as he tried to lift his hand to see what it was and then his chest joined in as he took a deep breath before the floor pressed against him and the deck beneath surged upwards.
‘Boss, you’re going to have to look after yourself for a while,’ said the voice. ‘I’m going to be a bit busy. There’s a lot of shit flying around out here.’
Bache suddenly remembered who it was and wanted to laugh, but he knew that would hurt, so he just concentrated on breathing the oxygen in small shallow breaths. He was cold, he couldn’t remember ever being so cold, and as his memories came flooding back in a rush, he wondered how long he’d been sat on that moon in a dead suit. Glancing down, he noticed Clunk had wrapped him in a thermal blanket.
The journey didn’t take long. He soon recognised the buzz of passing through an atmosphere shield, then having to scrunch up his one open eye from the sudden brightness in the cockpit, emitted by the harsh white hangar lights.
He moaned from the pain searing across his ribs as Clunk lived up to his name. The almost immediate whine of the airlock doors caught his attention, the sound of boots squeaking on the floor and a cacophony of barked orders as several pairs of hands lifted him. He gritted his teeth and moaned again. There was a sharp sting on his neck and everything faded into a land of echoes and softness.
Clunk watched as the medical team whisked Bache away. He slumped down on the edge of the airlock and released an audible sigh. It made him shiver at how close it had been. Spotting Bache on the moon’s surface had been down to blind luck. Quite how Bache had got there without a ship, Clunk couldn’t hazard a guess. He sat there for a while, trying to make sense of everything that had gone down in the last couple of weeks but failed miserably, until the hangar airlock cycling caught his attention.
He jumped up and stood sharply to attention as the captain swept into the hangar and made a beeline towards him.
‘Is he alive?’ Captain Whipper asked, peering inside the gunship.
‘They’ve already taken him to the medical centre, sir,’ said Clunk. ‘He was moaning a lot, so I think he was.’
‘Moaning, eh?’ said Whipper. ‘Sounds like he was fine.’
They both turned as one of the GDA’s most lethal and latest heavy gunships screamed into the hangar, closely followed by an unmarked passenger yacht and a second similar gunship.
‘Who the fuck is this?’ Whipper shouted above the racket of the antigravs.
Clunk was surprised the captain didn’t know.
‘The bridge must’ve given them clearance, sir,’ Clunk replied.
The yacht landed, its single airlock facing them beginning to open almost before it was down. The two gunships put down either side of the yacht, disgorging a dozen marines who quickly formed a protective ring around the smaller ship.
Both Clunk and Whipper straightened up in unison as an older man, dressed in long white and gold robes of office, climbed down from the yacht and strode purposefully towards them.
The captain took a quick glance at his tablet as it chimed to inform him the GDA President, Jamill Xutan, had just been given permission to board.
‘No shit,’ he mumbled. ‘Could’ve given me a bit more notice.’
Xutan’s customary smile was noticeably absent. He looked pale, and Clunk couldn’t remember the President ever looking so harried.
‘Are we here in time, Captain?’ Xutan asked. ‘It appears my communications have been compromised as of late.’
‘If you’re asking if the ship is out of danger, then, yes it is, Mr President,’ said Whipper. ‘But it seems only due to the heroics of one man.’
Xutan tilted his head to one side and stared at Whipper.
‘Don’t tell me—Lieutenant Loftt?’ he said, his demeanour brightening as he said the name.
Whipper nodded.
‘Is he here?’ the President asked.
‘Central medical centre, sir,’ said Clunk.
‘How bad?’
Clunk and Whipper glanced at each other.
‘We don’t know yet,’ said the captain. ‘I’m told he was semi-conscious when he arrived about half an hour ago.’
Xutan nodded.
‘Is Desulet here?’ he asked. ‘He seems to have gone missing, along with the admiral of the fleet and his overbearing wife.’
‘Desulet disappeared back to the enemy battleship shortly before we destroyed it,’ said Whipper.
‘What? So, he was here?’
‘Yes, he was orchestrating the attack,’ said Whipper.
Xutan balked slightly, his eyes wide.
‘I authorised no attack on anyone,’ he said.
‘No, Mr President,’ said Whipper. ‘He was orchestrating an attack against us, because we thwarted his long-planned attack on the planet below with a secretly constructed Gata fleet using leaked GDA military technology.’
Xutan’s mouth hung open for a moment while he digested that information. He slumped slightly and dropped his gaze to the floor.
‘That explains a lot,’ he said finally. ‘The only reason I’m here is because young Loftt sent me a message to my old personal tab address. It was just by pure chance I saw it and they didn’t. From that, it came to light just before I left that all my correspondence over the last few weeks or so has been intercepted and sometimes altered.’
The captain turned and nodded at the two gunships and the marines covering every corner of the hangar.
‘That explains all this then?’ he said.
‘Actually, no,’ said Xutan. ‘After reading Loftt’s message, I instructed my new personal assistant to liaise with the admiral and get a fleet over here as soon as possible.’
‘But I guess the admiral wasn’t anywhere to be found?’ questioned Whipper.
‘Well, I did discover that. But that was after my aforesaid assistant attempted to assassinate me.’
‘Fuck the ancients,’ blurted Clunk. ‘Oh, sorry, sirs,’ he added quickly, realising he’d actually sworn in front of the President.
The President almost smiled, while Whipper glowered at him.
‘No apology needed young man,’ said Xutan, holding his hands up. ‘I believe those were my exact words at the time.’
‘Thankfully, it seems he failed,’ said Whipper.
‘Indeed,’ said Xutan. ‘The virtues of having a personal shield.’
‘I seem to remember your assistant had been with you for decades,’ said Whipper.
‘She was,’ he said, as a look of sadness washed across his face. ‘Massive heart attack a few weeks ago. Although, now with the current turn of events, I’m beginning to wonder if it was of truly natural origins.’
‘Where did your new assistant come from?’ Clunk asked.
‘Desulet,’ said Xutan, almost spitting the name. ‘Came with glowing references.’
‘Hmm,’ grunted Whipper, appearing philosophical for a moment. ‘A lot of time and planning went into this, I’m so thankful it’s been thwarted. Not just for us, but for the population of Berge down there,’ he said, pointing to the blue planet turning slowly and visible below through the atmosphere shield.
‘So, you believe Desulet is dead now?’ Xutan asked.
‘That hasn’t been confirmed,’ said Whipper. ‘But we do know he’s no longer on this vessel. Unfortunately, we detected two small jump signatures from inside the Gata battleship just after its shields went down.’
‘So, he could still be a threat?’
‘Not so much now I’m reckoning,’ said Whipper. ‘They’d built fourteen of those battleships.’
‘How many are still out there?’ Xutan asked, concern evident in his tone.
‘None, sir,’ blurted Clunk with a grin. ‘We fucked ’em all up.’
Whipper rolled his eyes, exhaled and shook his head before speaking.
‘What he said, Mr President,’ giving Clunk a glare.
Xutan stared for a moment.
‘You’re telling me you’ve defeated fourteen battleships of that size with one Katadromiko cruiser?’
‘One Katadromiko cruiser and one Lieutenant Loftt,’ said Clunk, grinning even more.
‘Well—fuck the ancients,’ blurted Xutan, returning Clunk’s smile. ‘That feat will certainly warrant some recognition, and talking of young Loftt, can you escort me to the medical centre? I really want to see if that boy’s all right.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Whipper. ‘I want to see how that crazy idiot is too.’
‘Permission to tag along, Captain?’ Clunk asked.
‘Of course, pilot,’ said Whipper. ‘You did save his life after all.’
‘You did?’ questioned Xutan, turning to Clunk.
‘Uh huh,’ he replied.
‘It’s yes, Mr President,’ growled Whipper.
‘Sorry, sir—yes, Mr President,’ he said, correcting his earlier faux pas.
Xutan nodded and grinned.
‘Well it seems to me, young man, you might just have saved one of the navy’s most valuable assets.’
‘Please don’t tell Loftt that, Mr President,’ said Whipper, ushering them towards the personnel airlock at the back of the hangar. ‘He’d never let us hear the end of it.’