Star Force: Augmentation (SF22) Read online

  1

  May 8, 2395

  Jartul System

  Daka

  Mark-084 looked down on the planet of Daka from orbit, seeing the dark browns of the continents mixing with the pale green pair of oceans snaking their way around them in long fingers, but he was unable to make out any signs of urbanization on the planet, new as it was to the Alliance. Somewhere down there was a city, constructed mostly underground to be able to survive orbital bombardment but not necessarily for secrecy. The planet and star system were uninhabited, located a third of the distance around the perimeter of lizard territory from Sol, and as such were expected not to draw the enemy’s attention.

  That was the reason why Alliance Command had chosen the system to establish their starfighter training center, where pilots from all the Alliance races could assemble, swap notes on the lizards, and start building better equipment and tactics to counter the enemy in the air and in space. It’d been operational for a couple of years now, but this was the first opportunity Star Force had to attend given the distances involved. More and more the Hycre were having to ferry them about to various Alliance bases given the limited capabilities of their gravity drives and this was no exception. It had taken two massive Hycre jumpships to carry over the 8 ships in Mark’s small taskforce that would be permanently setting up on the planet below.

  From the bridge of one of his cargo ships Mark spotted the orbital infrastructure where the spacebound fighters trained, but that was one area that Star Force had not delved into. All their pilots were aerial pilots, tasked with in-atmosphere combat, leaving orbital maneuvers to the navy with their bigger guns and attack drones. The idea of losing pilots in naval engagements was abhorrent, which was why Star Force didn’t used manned craft. On the surface the pilots stood a chance of survival if they got hit, and their aerial craft were equipped with armored cockpits to increase pilot survivability, much like the mechs were, so that a defeat didn’t necessarily result in a death.

  Other races weren’t so considerate and fielded large numbers of manned craft, sometimes little more than mobile weapon platforms. Putting armor or shields on a fighter slowed it down, as well as made it more expensive to produce, which was why some Alliance members had their starfighter forces comprised of largely disposable craft armed with powerful weapons…and treated the pilots to be just as dispensable as their craft.

  Those races often used hoard tactics, just as the lizards did, to overwhelm a target by sheer numbers but the Calavari did not, and they were the leading Alliance member when it came to starfighters. They’d been the first to suggest the construction of this facility to train up the other races’ inadequate pilots, as they’d put it, in order to present the lizards with a more skilled, united starfighter front.

  12 races were already here, with several more to come, making the Humans a latecomer to the scene. The Hycre had no starfighters at all, let alone pilots, so their presence in the system was purely as a defensive force in case the lizards did stumble across this system. Two of their destroyers remained on station permanently, while the jumpships that had just dropped off Star Force’s ships had left as soon as the unloading was complete.

  There were a few other warships in the system but Mark had elected not to bring any of their own, instead using all of the available cargo space the Hycre had allotted them to bring materiel and personnel sufficient to establish a Canderian seda in orbit. For now, at least, Mark and his pilots would be taking up residence in the Alliance base on the surface while his army of techs began establishing mining outposts at varied sites across the planet that would, months down the road, supply the raw materials to construct the seda in orbit.

  Of the 24 pilots Mark had assembled, including himself, 12 were Archons, 10 were Star Force regulars, and 2 were Canderians. Half of the Archons were from Mark’s own Clan Gunstar, with the others being highly skilled volunteers from the others. All together the trailblazer had assembled a good group of the best pilots Star Force had to offer…with the two Canderians thrown in as extra. Canderous had been begging Star Force to let them establish a starfighter wing of their military, but they’d been staunchly refused, and given that they had little in the way of surface operations they’d never had much need for aerofighters, so they’d made do with building armed assault shuttles for air support.

  Mark had brought them along so they could see for themselves how stupid manned starfighters were when going up against warships, but also to allow them to learn from the other races and see what type of ground support operations they might find a niche in, considering that it looked like Star Force’s primary area of contribution to the Alliance was going to be surface-related and Canderous was heavily space-based.

  Leaving his cargo fleet in orbit under the care of Baron Keller to begin setting up mining operations, Mark and his fellow pilots left for the surface in a dropship and traveled down to the northernmost continent and the tallest mount range on the planet…which was only several hundred meters high. Daka was covered in grasslands and extremely flat, with the Alliance base tucked into what little terrain the planet had.

  When the falcon approached the coordinates that had been transmitted to the Humans upon arrival they did a flyby, seeing several squadrons of aerofighters performing maneuvers around what looked like a bombing range to the east while others were busy with dogfights to the west. The northern and southern approaches were clear for the moment, so the dropship pilot brought them in from the south and circled around until they spotted a large open door on the side of one of the more sheer mountains, exposing a huge hangar bay inside.

  As the dropship approached it was literally swallowed up by the massive construct. Plains of open deck stretched out before them with hundreds of aircraft clustered in small groups sporadically spaced around the interior of the dome…with another massive, closed bay door on the other side, meaning that the hollowed-out chamber had to stretch from one side of the mountain range to the other. It was kilometers wide at minimum and was obviously designed to hold a great deal more occupants than it had at present.

  A tracking beacon led the dropship to the area of the deck that was being allotted for use by the Humans, tucked up against one of the support columns rising up to the top of the dome to keep the mountain from crushing down onto the hang deck. As they got closer Mark realized the column was much bigger than it appeared, and as they moved in to land a hundred meters away from it he also saw infrastructure imbedded inside in the form of doors and hundreds of windows stretching up the exterior.

  Just outside the doors were a group of 5 people waiting for them to land, so once the dropship settled down Mark and the other pilots slipped their filter masks over their mouth and nose and grabbed the first of their gear from the hold before walking outside into the planet’s native atmosphere.

  The world had plenty of oxygen to go around, up near 45%, but there were also a number of other gases mixed in that didn’t affect the Humans so well. If they needed to they could breathe the atmosphere directly, but after a few minutes of exposure they’d start to get a burning sensation in their throat and lungs that would build to painful levels, though it was said that it wouldn’t kill them.

  Star Force had designed the small masks that wrapped around the back of their heads and sealed over their mouth and nose to be as minimally intrusive as possible while removing the hazardous compounds from each breath they took. As Mark led the pilots from the dropship and over to the column he saw that three out of the 5 people in the greeting team also wore masks of some type, though these covered their entire faces. One of the two that was unaugmented stepped forward and spoke first.

  “Welcome, fellow pilots,” the four-armed Calavari said in th
e trade language, looking down at the smaller Humans. “We are pleased you could join us.”

  “I am Mark-084 and these are some of the best pilots Star Force has to offer,” the Archon said, his voice muffled by the breather mask. “We appreciate the invite…and the chance to test our strengths against your own.”

  “I am Vornac, and will serve as your liaison officer while you are here. This is Morhat, my wingman, and these three are Protovic pilots who were interesting in seeing the newcomers.”

  “Dash’ti’ki,” one of them said, taking a step forward and holding its hand up in what Mark almost thought was the Vulcan V-hand greeting, except that the fingers weren’t right. The middle two were together with the others splayed out, but concealed within the body suit and helmet the Protovic was wearing the Archon could have sworn he was looking at another Human. “You are Star Force?”

  “We are,” Mark said proudly.

  “You do look like us,” Dash’ti’ki said, glancing over Mark and the rest of the Humans. “We are interested in seeing if you fly as well. We offer a challenge, when you are ready.”

  “Thank you. Once we get settled in and figure out how things work around here I’m sure we’ll be able to come to terms.”

  “Come to terms?”

  “We have rules of engagement that must be satisfied before we accept challenges, so I cannot officially confirm or deny until we get more information.”

  “And that you will have shortly,” Vornac assured Mark as he gestured one of his arms back towards the column. “Let’s continue this indoors, shall we? I can see that your race doesn’t take well to this atmosphere.”

  “Yours apparently does,” Mark said after nodding and following the aliens over to the door.

  “It is tolerable to us but not to the Cajdital, which is why we chose this planet. If they find us here they’ll have to equip their assault forces with envirosuits and they don’t typically carry a lot of them in storage, which would diminish their numbers if they chose to launch an immediate attack.”

  The triple-wide doors split apart, two pieces sliding laterally into the walls while the third middle piece disappeared up into the ceiling, giving them all easy access into a large empty room with a solitary terminal rising up out of the floor in the center. The internal architecture was all shades of red and orange, a stark contrast from the greys in the hangar.

  Vornac remotely closed the outer doors before triggering a whirlwind that nudged Mark off balance as the air was rapidly exchanged through a series of filters hidden within the walls. As soon as the violent windstorm began it died out and a light illuminated on the terminal.

  “The air is clear, with a mixture of nitrogen, oxygen, and carbon dioxide remaining. I believe that is satisfactory for your race?”

  “What percent of carbon dioxide?” Mark asked.

  “Same as the planetary atmosphere, about .5% and our air processors keep that ratio internally.”

  Mark slid his mask off and took a deep breath, held it, then released it slowly, feeling no ill effects. “We’re good,” he said to both Vornac and his fellow pilots that followed his lead and removed their masks.

  The Calavari used the terminal to open the inner doors, revealing an ovoid hallway stretched laterally that was decorated in more red and less orange than the airlock chamber, but the colors were still bright and a bit overbearing, giving the whole area almost a carnival feel to it.

  “This complex is for your use and is capable of holding 2,400 individuals. That’s how many quarters are present, though if you double up you could accommodate many more. We will accommodate you with whatever foodstuffs you require, though many races prefer to ship in their own,” Vornac said, leading them through the column to a three story tall room not far from the airlock.

  “This is your control center and will allow you to monitor all chambers within this column, as well as communicate with others and tap into the base’s external sensors, communications, and other systems. Don’t be afraid to wander around the system, safety protocols are firmly locked into place so you won’t be able to accidentally cause any trouble. The systems are all encoded in the trade language, of course, so there shouldn’t be any language issues. On the far side are the cargo areas, which I imagine you’ll want to start loading up from your transport?”

  “We have a lot more stuff to bring down, but only a handful of people. These are all the pilots I brought with me.”

  “What, just these?” Vornac asked, a bit taken aback. “We intended to train you an army of properly prepared pilots.”

  “These will be enough,” Mark said confidently. “We will learn and pass on what we know. Our territory is far from here, so we didn’t want to bring too many out on the first trip.”

  “Yes, of course, I’d forgotten. My apologies. Just know that this facility is not the only one allotted to you. We have many more should the need arise, so do not hesitate to bring in as many pilots as you can. As far as your introductionary information is concerned, there is a program installed on this terminal that will explain everything, which you can view at your leisure.”

  “If we want to go somewhere else, do we have to walk across the hangar deck or do you have an alternative means of transport?”

  “You’re certainly welcome to fly across to other locations if you wish, or go by foot, but we do have access corridors above the hangar ceiling that connect all structures together. Also, there are communal structures up there for all to use. I suggest that once you get settled you take a while to explore the base before we get heavily into training. This is a home for all pilots and the Calavari want to ensure that everyone feels the same.”

  “Well, we’ll definitely take the opportunity to explore,” Mark promised. “Are there any specific training sessions or meetings over the next few days that you want us to attend?”

  “Everything is at your discretion. Join us when you feel ready. A full schedule of base activities and operations is available in the database, accessible from here,” Vornac said, laying one of his lower hands on a console. “You can also sign up for use of the Valeries remotely.”

  “Valeries?”

  “A type of starfighter that we have designed for the use of all Alliance pilots. You can, of course, use your own, but you’re also welcome to use a Valerie whenever you like.”

  “Operating controls?” Mark asked, glancing at Vornac’s four arms.

  “Modular to accommodate all races invited, except for the Hycre. They declined invitation so we didn’t modify any for them.”

  “Modifications for each race or one design that all can use?”

  “Forgive me, I misspoke. Had the Hycre attended they would have required different craft. The Valeries available to you can be used by everyone once you reconfigure the internal controls and environment to your race’s setting, easily accomplished within a few minutes.”

  “Interesting,” Mark mewed. “And where are these Valeries located?”

  “A neutral zone of the deck,” Vornac said, accessing the database and quickly pulling up a map and thrusting one of his four thick fingers at it. “We have several thousand available and do all servicing ourselves. The Calavari, I mean. That way other race’s pilots can focus on flying and learning while we handle the maintenance. We also offer fuel services for your unique craft, once we have the necessary formulas worked out. Some races prefer to keep that a secret, but the more redundancy we have in production across all our bases in the galaxy the better equipped we will be to fight the Cajdital.”

  “Ours is mostly hydrogen-based. I’ll send over the formula later, though we do intend to fuel our own craft.”

  “As you wish, but we will soon have a supply on hand should you require its use. We also are modifying the Valerie designs for construction by other races using resources plentiful to them and we will do the same for you if you wish.”

  “We like our skeets well enough, but we’re always on the lookout for new ideas to steal.”

  “A
‘skeet’ is your craft?”

  “Atmosphere only, but yes.”

  “What are your space-based craft called?”

  “We don’t use any manned ships that small in space. We rely on our warships for naval combat.”

  “Much as the Hycre do,” Vornac pointed out neutrally.

  “Our motivations are different, but there is a coincidental similarity there.”

  “What is your motivation?” one of the Protovic asked through its mask that it still had on.

  Mark leaned again the edge of a console and crossed his arms over his chest, expecting this to turn into a bit of a pilot’s turf war. “We accept the loss of machinery in battle, not pilots. In atmosphere starfighter pilots have a better chance of survival, even if they get shot down, and usually the guns they face on a planet are far smaller than those of a navy in space.”

  “The Cajdital have no such concerns.”

  “And we’ve found ways to beat them,” Mark countered. “Their starfighters are no match for our gunships because we designed them to take the enemy’s advantage and turn it against them.”

  “I would much like to see those battles,” Vornac said, “if you happen to have records?”

  Mark smiled. “We do, and I brought copies to study. I hope all of you have done the same. I’m interested in how the lizards have adapted to fight you.”

  “Lizards?” Dash’ti’ki asked.

  “It’s our nickname for the Cajdital. We usually don’t use that term with other races, but since we’re all pilots here I figured you’d have some shorthand terms of your own.”

  Vornac laughed with a booming tone. “I like you, Human. You speak like Calavari pilot. I hope you fly like one.”

  Mark glanced across his shoulder at Boen-497. “We’ll find out soon enough. Our skeets are coming down with the next dropship. Any procedures we need to know about before taking to the sky?”

  Vornac smiled, showing two rows of tiny teeth. “Our skies are free. Head out when you like.”