Ring Of Fire
"Fly Fast, Bail Faster" Part 1
Commander Kyle Jameson swaggered through the halls of his carrier. This oversized tin can was currently assigned to carry him and his squadron of thunderbolt fighter-bombers to their next point of engagement. The Glory of Phantine was an omega class carrier that could hold over 50,000 infantry, 15,000 armored vehicles and about 1,000 fighter squadrons such as his own. Each squadron of thunder bolts consisted of five groups of three fighters each. His squadron, The Sky Splitters was famous around the sector for their death defying strafing runs and suicide missions. Only the best of the elite Battlefleet Pacificus pilots were allowed to tryout for the squadron and only two or three new members were admitted each year. Those that did became the most publicly adored soldiers in the galaxy. Ironically, only pilots between 19 and 35 were admitted into the crew and they stayed for life. Jameson had only twenty three years in the galaxy himself but was accredited to be the "best damned pilot in the Imperium by some pict-caster after the destruction of an enemy battlefleet without refueling once. He had never been shot down and with over 50 confirmed kills under his size 27 belt he was the epitome of the Imperial pilot.
The launch bay doors slid open with a faint hiss and Jameson strode briskly into the crew's lounge, several well chosen insults and jeers greeted him. He looked around at the six men and one woman in the room. The woman, Jara Reaun was the best gunner and bombardier the fleet had, Janus Reaun her brother, in his grey flight suit had broken seventeen g-force endurance records and was working on his eighteenth. Daniel Harkson, Kyle's second in command and wingman was the quartermaster and chief mechanic of the squadron. The others were members of other flights and therefore Kyle although he was their leader was unfamiliar with them. In the Sky Splitters were almost like blood relatives, dozens of suicide missions had brought the men and women of the crew together and formed a unique bond that was common only among pilots and their crew.
Kyle returned the jokes and walked over to the cold storage. Weapons grade plasma for the thunderbolt's engines were stored in here as well as engine coolant. Kyle dug through the piles of plasma until he found what he was looking for, a fifteen year old bottle of sacra, the famous tanith ale. He took an armful of glasses out of a cabinet and poured an ounce for each of the crew. The crew looked at him warily, half expecting him to play some practical joke that they often did to each other. As they noticed the grim expression on their commander's face they knew that this was not a time for jokes.
Kyle tapped a recessed button on the underside of the counter and a briefing table rose out of the floor. Another tap and a hologram fizzled into life, its eerie green casting flickering shadows onto the walls. The crew moved to the chairs around the table and pulled their notepads from their various pockets.
"Now listen", Kyle began, "I know little more about this farther then I can throw my bird but something big is going to go down in a few hours." Some tension easing laughter filled the room
"Highcom says that there is a distress signal coming from here and here" Kyle explained as the two points magnified on the display. "Supposedly, there has been some strange activity in this area for the past few weeks so we have been ordered to scout out the area." A voice from the back of the room drifted up to the front, "Why do we have to go do a mission better suited for some wet behind the ears juves?"
Other voices of agreement were raised but were silenced by the hiss of the door opening
"Because ladies and gentlemen, I said so." A deep voice said. Every head in the room turned to face the figure. "I am Inquisitor Vallenz, member of the ordo xenos" Several groans and comments of dissent filled the dark room. A few of the younger and bolder members started to yell and crack jokes. "You will listen or you WILL BE SILENCED!" Every voice was instantly quieted as the Inquisitor's voice seemed to shake the bones of all present. A few of those present about seventy-five all told nervously fidgeted with their watches and com-beads. "Thank you, now as you can obviously see, sorry Kanor," the half blinded mechanic just nodded," that there has been a pattern of such reports coming from this area in the past century or so." Several more green lights began to pulse on the display. The Inquisitor continued for several more minutes before handing the briefing over to Kyle. "Okay ladies and gents, suit up, gather your stuff and report to munitions storage to sign out for your payload, we'll be using the Prometheus warheads today so I want them ready in two minutes meet in the bay in two hours, and don't be late." With a few grumbled comments and the rustling of flight suits, the crews filed out, meeting the rest of their five man crews and heading off to the provisions area. Kyle turned to the inquisitor and nodded before leaving after his crew.