The Brotherhood of Battle
Chapter Eleven – Striking Back
"Hey, I'm a soldier, not a strategist. Maybe it wasn't one of my best ideas, but it's not as if they had a better one!" - Jake 'Ace' Lincoln, Militia Pilot
Brief flashes of intense orange hues. Explosions, screaming, voices shouting orders. Gunfire. Bullets were flying everywhere. Jake's team lying dead at his feet, IMC Spectres and Titans everywhere. And standing above it all, overseeing the wanton destruction and the needless death – a lone IMC Pilot, standing on a mountain on Militia corpses.
David Turner; Jake's mentor from his time with the IMC.
Lincoln awoke with a gasp, his chest heaving as his breath came in rapid bursts. He felt a cold sweat coating his bare skin, spread all over his body, drenching his thin bed-sheets in his perspiration. Jake's eyes darted all around the room, and he bolted to sit upright. A few moments went by as his breathing evened out, steadily returning to normal. Jake pulled his palms up to his eyes, rubbing the sleep from his blurry vision.
The images that plagued his sleep haunted his dreams. He couldn't understand much of it, just brief bursts, like somebody had taken a picture of what he was seeing and then spilt ink over most of the photo, obscuring nearly every detail - save for a limited precious few.
"Bloody hell..." He whispered beneath his breath as he looked around. The room was pitch-black and he could make out the snoring of his comrades elsewhere in the confines of their barracks. Jake swivelled his position, his legs hanging off the side of the mattress he slept on.
Jake knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. He was too scared to, for one thing. His head ached and the room swirled as Jake stood up. So the whiskey he'd drank with Desmond hadn't worn off just yet...
No reason to stop then.
Lincoln stood and wandered over to the footlocker at the bottom of a spare bed. It had been unanimously decided by all members of Bandit that they'd keep something strong in there at all times so that they could celebrate or wallow for whatever reason they wanted. Jake would think of one later.
He grabbed a bottle of half-depleted tequila and walked out of the room. He didn't need a change of clothes; Jake had forgotten to take off his slacks when he'd gone to bed a few hours ago anyway. The bright strip lights on the ceiling of the corridor made Jake squint for a few moments but he quickly got his bearings and started making his way towards the Titan Drop Bay. If nothing else, he could at least go there to wonder about when Spades would be green-lighted for a chassis of his own.
Waiting for one to become available had gotten to be more than a little annoying at this point.
Jake was halfway to his destination and had taken a few sips of his bottle of tequila by the time he wandered past a couple of Grunts on night-time patrol duty. He leant against a wall and waited for them to pass. The pair of soldiers didn't pay him any mind, just continued with their conversation as if he wasn't even there. Clearly, they were in the middle of some kind of debate.
"Nah, man. That's not what I'm saying." One of them started. "We've already pushed our luck too much. It's only a matter of time now, you know."
The other Grunt shook his head. "Since when did you become so cynical?" The other retorted. "Our Pilots could win a ground engagement against the IMC on any day, you know that."
"But what about our ships? Pilots can't exactly knock those out of the sky, I don't care how big their Titans are. The IMC has every conceivable advantage when it comes to naval battles." The first man lamented.
"Okay, I suppose you're right. But what're we supposed to do? We don't have the man-power to raid a shipyard – it's too risky."
"Maybe. But I'm sure we could capture one if we found it out in the open, on its own. On a patrol, or something?"
"Riiight." One of them commented. "And they'd probably just hand us the fucking keys to the damn thing too, right?"
"Shut up, Gage." A Grunt growled, the other just laughed.
"It's not up to us. We don't get paid enough to worry about that stuff anyway. I think Bish, Barker and some engineers are talking about it now."
"Shit, really?"
"Yeah, in the conference room. Why?" The first Grunt, Gage, spoke.
The other Grunt shrugged. "Great minds think alike, I suppose."
They both laughed at that and continued on their way. Jake remained standing against the wall on the corridor. He wondered if Bish and Barker had come up with any ideas to capture some ships to reinforce the Militia's navy. Jake even wondered if it was possible to take over the Argonaut, the ship he served on whilst enlisted to the IMC, before his turncoat defection to the Militia. He took a long swig from the bottle of golden brown liquid he held in his right hand.
Lincoln shrugged. Fuck it. He was awake now, so he might as well join the fun being had in the conference room, throw his proverbial hat into the ring.
Why not? He wasn't even that drunk...
VIIIIIV
"That doesn't solve our problem, Macallan." Bish sighed, rubbing his tired eyes with two fingers. "This plan of yours to take out Demeter has already cost the Militia far too much in the way of precious resources and ships."
"It'll be worth it, Cheng." Macallan tried to reassure him. "If Barker takes us to Leviathan, we can get the data on the and-"
"And what is that going to cost us, Mac?" Bish retorted. "Or the mission after that? And the operations we do next? I'm sorry, but Sarah wouldn't allow it. She cares too much about the lives of our people."
Macallan stepped back to lean against a wall, rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hands. He shrugged, out of ideas.
"So what do we do?" Sprocket asked, looking from Bish to Barker, neither of them replying. Clearly, no one had any brilliant ideas on what they could do next.
"Ain't that the question of the day?" Someone spoke from the entrance of the room.
The other four men looked from each other to the new voice, curious to see who had interrupted their brainstorm.
"Evenin', lads." Jake burped. He held up a finger as he took another swig of tequila from the bottle, a tingle on his tongue letting him know the alcohol was working its magic. He leant against the arch of the doorway, waiting for the familiar buzz to reach his stomach.
"Jake." Bish started. "You're here to pitch in an idea?"
"Maybe." Jake shrugged. "It depends."
"On what?" Macallan questioned.
"If we go through with it, I'll be in charge of the operation." Jake informed them.
Bish cast a wary gaze to Macallan and Sprocket. "You'd have to tell us what you've got in mind first."
"If that's what you want." Jake chuckled, producing a tac-pad from one of his pockets, handing it to Bish. "It's called the 'Argonaut'. It's an IMC heavy-cruiser, carrying enough raw materials to arm a whole battalion. Not to mention the drop-ships, heavy ordinance and Titans they have on-board."
Sprocket shrugged. "Maybe, but the Argonaut? Why that ship in particular?"
"I used to serve on it before I defected; I know the thing inside and out. It's a bit older than their other carriers; back when the hulls were made from Tentratium. Nowadays, the stuff is either too depleted or too expensive to create entire ships from, so the IMC reverted back to standard-issue Duranium that most ships are made out of today."
Bish whistled a long note. "Tentratium? You're sure?"
"As sure as I'm standing in this room." Jake nodded.
"What's so special about it?" Barker asked.
"It's rare." Macallan explained. "At least, nowadays, it is. And tough too. Three times denser than what carriers are made of at the moment. The Odyssey was made out of the same stuff." Macallan shrugged. "Maybe seventy or eighty ships were made from Tentratium before it got too expensive to keep on producing them – looks like the Argonaut is one of them."
The tac-pad Jake had handed Bish contained all of the knowledge he possessed about the Argonaut; defence systems, navigational charts, shipping manifestos and a set of blueprints mapping out the key areas of the ship."
As Macallan, Sprocket and Bish looked over the information; Barker hummed a tuneless song to himself as he swayed back and forth to some rhythm in his head.
"I've got a question." Jake spoke up once a minute or so had gone by.
"What is it?" Macallan asked.
"Why is he still here?" Jake nodded at Barker. "How is this drunkard is going to be of any help to us if we attempt to take the Argonaut?" Jake asked with a raised eyebrow.
"You're one to talk." Barker turned towards Jake with a cold stare and pointed a wavy finger at him accusingly. He wobbled towards the ex-IMC Pilot and grinned, one eye half-shut and the other barely able to focus on Jake. Barker snatched the half-finished bottle of tequila from Jake's hand and put it to his lips, half of the remaining golden-brown liquid disappeared down Barker's throat in a matter of moments.
"Who..." Barker slurred, "...are you... calling drunk? Huh?" He managed to spit out, wobbling from side to side as he said it. Barker's eyes were puffy and his breath stank of alcohol. Jake wrinkled his nose at the almost overwhelming stench of the liquor he gripped onto like it was a fire-arm.
"Who do you think?" Jake replied, a hint of venom in his tone. Lincoln cast a look to the other Militia assembled in the room. "What's so special about this guy anyway?"
"Believe me, kid; I'm much more than a serious talent for drinking games. I'm probably the best damn pilot you'll ever meet. Not like you Pilots, with the big 'p'." Barker chuckled at the innuendo. "I fly ships, not parade around in some glorified robot."
"You're shitting me, aren't you?" Jake asked. But Barker just shook his head.
"I'm the best... of the best, kiddo. What can I say?" He grinned sheepishly. "I take great joy in striking at the IMC whenever and however I can. I've stolen Dreadnoughts on my own with nothing but a rusty screwdriver and a few well-placed C4 charges. I blew up an IMC training facility with lots of bad people inside. And on top of all that, I even run my own moonshine business." Barker slurred. "I'm really very impressive, if I do say so myself."
Lincoln began to feel a serious urge to punch this man in the face just to stop his ceaseless prattling and arrogance.
"You may think I'm an arrogant bastard, but that's only because I'm better than you." He chuckled. Jake felt himself clench his jaw, his teeth grinding against each other in an attempt to bite back a retort. The man's constant ego stroking was really starting to get on his nerves.
"But I hear you're shit-hot at walking upright, so... you know, well done you. You should be very proud." Barker grinned, prodding Jake's chest a little too hard with his fore finger.
"Be that as it may," Jake grunted in annoyance as he rubbed the newly sore area on his chest, "You didn't answer my question. How are you going to help us get our hands on the Argonaut?"
Bish stepped forward from the railing he'd been leaning on, holding his tac-pad in his left hand, showing the status of the ship and vital information about their plan to take the Argonaut.
"We'll need his expertise to warp in next to the Argonaut once it's been located. He knows how to get the slip-space generator to put us next to the target with pin-point accuracy; we'll be within metres of the damn thing – but only if he's behind the controls." Bish explained, allowing Barker to grin smugly in Jake's direction, who simply rolled his eyes in response.
"Problem is; our little Sparrow's a lightly armoured battle-cruiser, basically a scouting vessel - with some muscle if it gets into a pinch. We don't have anything close to the firepower or the hull strength to take on a ship like the Argonaut."
"So we weaken it somehow, incapacitate it." Jake suggested.
"Well, duh..." Barker whispered under his breath, just loud enough for Jake to hear, who ground his teeth in annoyance, but said nothing else.
"I've actually got an idea for that." Bish spoke up again, placing his own tac-pad on the nearest table, which sprang up a blue hologram into the air above it. It represented some kind of improvised explosive device to Jake, but much bigger. "It's why I wanted you here, Sprocket; we need you to build it."
"Well, damn." Max stared at the hologram, awestruck. "Is that what I think it is?"
"Depends, what do you want it to be?" Bish smirked.
"Well, it looks like an industrial-grade electro-magnetic pulse generator. But..."
"Bigger?" Jake suggested.
"Way bigger, the size of a damn fridge." Sprocket nodded.
"Can you build it?" Bish asked. "Sarah's counting on us."
"You know who you're talking to, right? Nigel and I can make this thing a reality in a day, maybe two." Sprocket laughed. Bish nodded.
"Then get to it." The Asian man replied.
"One question though; EMP devices, no matter how big, won't work outside of a ship like the Argonaut. The shields will deflect it like a bug on a windscreen."
"So what are we going to do?" Jake finished, understanding the issue.
Bish just smiled. "We'll just sneak it on-board."
Jake raised an eyebrow. "And how do you propose we do that, hmm? Ask nicely?"
"In a way." Bish shrugged.
Barker sniggered. "The IMC aren't idiots; I don't think they'll just let it inside the ship, even if we put a pretty bow-tie on it."
"Shut up, Barker." Jake tutted, turning to Bish. "So, what are we going to do?"
"We've still got that IMC dropship you guys stole when you went after Ubento, right?" Bish asked in return.
Jake raised a quizzical eyebrow. "The Goblin? Yeah, why?"
"Because they're going to invite us in." Bish smiled. "Here's my idea..."
VIIIIIV
A few hours later...
VIIIIIV
"Set your scanners to decrypt any IMC transmissions, keyword; 'Argonaut'. Notify me when you find some available information, I'm going for a shower." He turned the computers into sleep mode and began to walk towards the door. A thought crossed his mind suddenly, and Jake added. "Oh! By the way, Spades, remind me to patch my jump-pack's dash thrusters into the secondary firing column. I've been meaning to get that sorted." Jake asked the machine, intent on walking away to his quarters.
"Attention; information available." Spades announced. Jake turned on his heel, clapping his hands together in delight.
"Bloody hell, that was fast. Let's hear it then." Jake held out his hands expectantly.
"You must patch the dash thrusters through the seconda-" Spades began.
"N-no, no. No, Spades." Jake cut him off, sputtering. He almost chuckled at the machine's naivety. "Not... not now. Later." He turned again.
"When?" Spades asked.
"I don't know, just pick a time." Jake told him, exasperated.
"When?" It repeated, like an irritating child asking for clear instruction.
"It doesn't matter. Just... later." He slapped his forehead and blew out a weary breath through his lips.
A moment went by, and Spades was silent.
"When?"
"Uh, I don't know. Just pick a number! Extrapolate it to match a set time in the near future, say, within the next few hours? Notify me when you meet that time." Jake explained in a way the A.I. would be able to comprehend. The blue lights on the computer Spades was installed into flickered slightly.
"Understood."
Jake looked at Spades for a long time, raising an eyebrow. An entire minute of pin-drop silence went by. When nothing happened, Jake smiled in victory and marched to the door.
"Information available." Spades announced. Jake almost screamed in frustration.
"I told you, pick-"
"You misunderstand, Jake, I have discovered an encrypted IMC transmission matching your parameters; we should give this to Militia technicians at the earliest opportunity. It is marked as a Priority Three broadcast. It contains information relevant to the location of the 'Argonaut'. The ship is transporting two-hundred and thirty-six Militia POW's to a permanent holding facility."
Jake stood there, motionless. Dead silent. He could almost feel the machine judging him.
"Oh." Jake whispered. "Well, then..." Jake gave the camera attached to Spades' system a thumbs-up. "Good job." Lincoln simply said, offering a guilty smirk.
VIIIIIV
Three days later...
VIIIIIV
The abject blackness of the vacuum of space. Oblivion to some, an unmissable opportunity of potential wealth for others. For many different people, it was many different things, but to the twenty men and women on board the stolen IMC dropship; it was a trap, waiting to be sprung. For now, though, it was empty.
But for Jake, it was boring.
Twelve hours. That's how long they'd been waiting so far. The distress beacon specifically coded by Bish to be intercepted by the Argonaut's sensors had so far gone unanswered - but clearly not unheard. A few long-range transmissions from an IMC carrier had been received, but no one on board the dropship had answered, afraid that the IMC would ask questions they wouldn't know the answers to. It had been unanimously decided that leaving the comms alone was best, for fear of alerting the Argonaut, and subsequently losing it to suspicion and a conflict of interest.
So, they waited.
Twenty Pilots, sitting or standing into the cramped drop-bay at the rear end of the ship. All chosen from the most elite of those available at such short notice on board the Sparrow. Jake, Golsan and Breaker had been the only ones approved for the mission out of the six men in Bandit.
Vodnik was unavailable for obvious reasons, and Desmond was classed as unfit for duty due to his recent drinking. Castillo had declined going on the mission altogether for reasons unknown.
It bothered Lincoln that their team was only at half strength, but the abundance of other Militia Pilots more than made up for it. All of them were veterans, each with dozens of missions and hundreds of hours of experience between them.
Jake looked from Pilot to Pilot, wondering if any of them had defected from the IMC as he had. Renouncing the ways of tyranny and totalitarianism, exchanging them for freedom fighting and battling for the sovereignty of the Frontier.
Ace's eyes drifted up to EMP device mag-locked to the ceiling of the drop bay. Of course, he and the rest of the Pilots knew what it was, but to any uninformed observer, it appeared to be just another piece of technology that the drop-ship needed to function - albeit a rather large piece, about the size of a fridge.
Jake sighed, and laid his head against the metal wall of the ship, bored to death of waiting. He looked out of the port-side window, hoping to see some sign of the carrier they'd spent so many days planning for.
Suddenly, the space outside of the ship bent and distorted in ways Jake thought wasn't possible. He instantly stood and looked around at the Pilots assembled nearby, some unaware of the imminent slip-space arrival.
"Brace!" Jake called out, and within a moment all the soldiers reached for one of the straps attached to the ceiling.
In the next few seconds, a rift seemed to tear itself open in the folds of the black pits of space between stars. A shockwave shook the small ship, heralding the arrival of the assault carrier, which easily dwarfed their comparatively insignificant drop-ship. As soon as the shaking subsided, Jake peeked out of the window. A smile crept onto his face - the Argonaut had finally arrived. Alone.
At last.
"Alright, everybody!" Jake turned to the assembled men and women on board the ship. "Oxygen masks on! If this goes sideways, you'll need them. When we get on board, the device will be activated. We'll have a matter of minutes to get where we need to be in the chaos. The IMC's first priorities will be the generators and life support. We need to deny them the latter - if we control that, we control the ship!"
A Pilot stepped toward Jake. A name was blazed across their helmet; 'Matthews'.
"I'll take a team of six to the life support systems; it'll be as good as ours." He assured Jake.
Lincoln nodded. "Take at least nine. They won't give it up easily. Spare as many non-infantry as you can. We're here for the ship, not for some vendetta."
"Yes, sir." Matthews responded.
Jake was surprised to be treated so officially, but he wasn't about to complain. "Two of you will come with me to capture the bridge, and whoever's left will get to the brig. Free as many Militia personnel as you can manage, arm them too. It'll draw the IMC's attention and make our jobs a lot easier. We all clear?"
"Oo-rah!" The all chanted.
"Good, maintain radio silence from now on. Arm the EMP, and engage your cloaking devices." Jake concluded as he made his way to the cockpit.
By now, the Argonaut had slowed to a stop, and Jake felt his stomach doing backflips knowing the assault carrier's missile pods were probably aimed squarely at them. One wrong move, one fault in the plan - he and nineteen other M-COR Pilots would be lost to the IMC. An incoming transmission beeped on the dashboard of the shuttle. Jake sat down in the cockpit and pressed a button, allowing open communications between the two ships.
"Unidentified IMC dropship, your distress signal was picked up by this vessel at twenty-one hundred hours. We are here to assist. Please identify." The unmistakable voice of Ship Captain Richards blared out of the speakers.
Jake left the request unanswered. A moment went by. It was paramount that the IMC fell for this ploy. They had to let the dropship on board to make the EMP effective in any way.
"I say again; unidentified vessel, this is Captain Richards, with the IMS 'Argonaut'. Identify yourself."
This time it was a demand. Jake exhaled nervously, but still did not answer. He could tell that a few Pilots were staring at him, their gazes burned into the back of his helmet.
"Unidentified drop-ship, this is your last warning. Identify, or be met with force." Richards growled. Jake twitched nervously in his seat. He hoped that the Captain would have to consider the fact that the drop-ship's communication relay might be out of operation. "Give us some sign that you are receiving us, drop-ship." Richards said, suspicion clear in his tone.
Jake flicked a switch up and down on the dashboard multiple times, activating the fog-lights on the front of the ship. A tense moment went by, Jake wondered if they'd accept it as a sign of conformity, or whether their suspicions would get the better of them and the ship would be blown to bits.
"Solid copy, dropship." Richards replied. "Can you manoeuvre to the Argonaut's hangar?"
Jake flashed the lights again. He activated the engines, propelling the ship towards the carrier's starboard hangar. Everyone aboard knew that there would undoubtedly be a welcoming party awaiting them as soon as they touched down. But it wouldn't matter. Jake had no plans to get out of the ship until he was told to.
The plan had been very specific about what was to happen next. Jake had dressed in his old IMC gear especially for the occasion. It would help the IMC onboard the Argonaut to drop their guard, granting the other Militia Pilots the element of surprise.
Not that the EMP wouldn't be able to give them the same effect all by itself.
As Jake approached the hangar, he felt the pull of a tractor beam locking him in place, giving the IMC complete control over the drop-ships navigation systems while they were in range. Slowly but surely they were manoeuvred into the hangar, right where the IMC wanted them.
Incidentally, it was also exactly where the M-COR wanted to be too.
The landing gear extended, and the vehicle hit the floor with a deep 'thunk'. Jake heard the heavy footfalls of dozens of pairs of boots and the clamour of activity outside of the drop-ship as he made his way to the rear end of the small ship. By now, all present Pilots had engaged their cloaking devices, completely hidden from view.
Invisible - unless you knew what to look for.
Slowly, the ramp lowered, steadily revealing more and more of the hangar. It also revealed at least thirty IMC Grunts armed with carbines and shotguns, all trained directly on him. Jake raised his hands in surrender.
"Okay, Pilot." One of the men at the bottom of the ramp hollered to Jake. "Come down to us, slowly. And no funny business. Nod if you understand."
Jake nodded slowly. He walked down the ramp without any sudden moves, his hands raised the entire time.
"Evenin', lads." Jake greeted.
"You mind telling me what you were doing on a drop-ship all alone in the middle of nowhere?" The Grunt who'd called up to him asked.
"What do you think?"
"The Militia?" One of the troopers asked Jake.
"Bingo." Jake pointed a finger at the soldier who had spoken. Jake was lying through his teeth, feeding them the story the Pilots had come up with whilst they'd been waiting on the dropship. "Our dreadnought was attacked while we were on a patrol. It happened so fast that all I could do was get into a drop-ship and do an emergency sub-light jump. After that, I just let out a distress call." Jake lied through his teeth, giving the Grunt a warm smile. "I'm just glad you found me when you did."
The Grunt gave him a long look. He put up a hand for the other men to lower their weapons.
"Huh..." He replied. "You said your ship was attacked?"
"That's right. Ambushed." Jake nodded.
"What's the name of the ship?" The Grunt asked. Jake felt his stomach drop.
"Why?"
"The techies will obviously need to log its destruction – and if it was captured, we'll have to get it back."
Jake looked around and glanced to the drop-ship, directing a wink at what appeared to be the empty air inside it. It was a wink that said; 'get ready'.
"It was the 'Hercules'." Jake nodded, picking the name out of thin air. It sounded like something the IMC would name a ship though. The Grunt went to relay an order, probably calling out Jake's bluff, but Jake butt in first.
"What was really interesting though," he regained the attention of the Grunt Leader, "Was the way they ambushed us. Yeah, we just let them on board, and then they blew up this big bomb..."
"That was stupid of you." Another Grunt laughed, nudging a friend of his next to him.
"Yeah..." Jake grimaced. "I guess so. Mind you, I could say the same thing to you."
"What do you-" The Grunt leader began.
"Do it!" Jake shouted.
Several things happened in that next moment. Firstly, the EMP device went off, shorting out the electrics of every dependent piece of technology in a ten-mile radius. More than enough to encapsulate the Argonaut in its entirety. The Grunt who'd been speaking to Jake raised his carbine to shoot him, but Lincoln grabbed the barrel of the rifle and yanked it forward, off-setting the soldier and claiming the weapon as his own. He slammed the butt of the gun into the Grunt's right temple in one fluid movement, knocking him unconscious immediately.
The host of cloaked Pilots suddenly became visible as their rifles fired almost in unison, gunning down the IMC welcoming party quickly and effectively. They were all granted swift, painless deaths.
Immediately following the pulse, the Argonaut shuddered and trembled as the engines failed and halted altogether. The filament lights fizzed out, soon replaced by the yellow emergency strip lights, powered by a back-up generator. Jake looked around, as if waiting for something to go wrong. When nothing happened, he made a few fast hand gestures to the other Pilots.
"Matthews, you and your group need to get moving. Capture those life-support systems; we'll have them by the bollocks then." Jake ordered.
Matthews and the assigned Pilots broke out into a sprint, using their jump-packs to make every second count.
"You two, you're with me." Jake pointed at two random Militia Pilots. "We're going to the bridge. Breaker, take the rest of the men and get to the brig."
"Got it, Ace. See you on the other side." John nodded as he and Golsan, as well as a few others, made off for the detention centre. Jake set off too, the last two Pilots following close behind.
He knew what he had to do, and he prayed that he wouldn't run into David on the way there.
VIIIIIIV
Bish watched his tac-pad with intense eyes, scanning the lines of statistics and numbers for what he was looking for. He'd incorporated the schematics of the Argonaut that Jake had given Bish into his technology and had been able to create a live-feed of the on-going status of the Argonaut.
Suddenly, the feed went dead, it lagged and ground to a halt. It could only mean one thing.
"Confirmed detonation of the device! They did it!" Bish announced.
The bridge crew of the Sparrow cheered. The first step of the plan had been accomplished. But there was still a long way to go, and a lot of opportunities for things to go wrong if the Pilot teams messed up. But Bish knew they could handle themselves, they were Pilots for a reason.
Without missing a beat, Bish turned to Barker, who sat ready at controls of the ship.
"Get us as close as you can, Barker." Cheng ordered. "We'll start releasing boarding parties as soon as possible to support our boys. As soon as they capture the critical areas of the ship, they'll have no choice but to evacuate."
"You got it." Barker called out, punching in a code with a few buttons on a nearby control surface, he slowly pushed a lever forward, and the Sparrow launched into slip-space, stars rushing by them like streaks of white against a black-blue background as the empty void of space rushed by at sub-light speeds.
Just as suddenly as they'd entered slip-space, they emerged again, decelerating to a come to a halt next to the Argonaut. The IMC heavy-carrier was twice as large as the Militia star-ship, and Bish looked out of the port-side window, swallowing a lump in his throat as he watched the shadow of the massive ship tower over him.
"Orders, sir?" One of the bridge crew looked over their shoulder to stare at the Asian man.
Macallan spoke up, saving Bish's decorum.
"Deploy all fighter wings; scramble boarding parties Alpha to November. Two squads of marines and one Pilot to each craft." Macallan relayed. "All fighters, target any enemy tangos that make it out of the hangar. Do not fire upon escape craft, I repeat, do not attack escape-pods. We're here for the Argonaut, not for blood."
The bridge crew nodded or spoke their understanding in unison. Barker stood up from his chair, waddling over to Bish with a bottle of moonshine in his hand.
"Right," he slurred, "that's my job done. Good luck handling the rest of this shit-show."
And with that, he wandered off into the recesses of the ship. Bish watched him go, a small sneer etched onto his face.
"Ignore him, that's kind of his style." Macallan told him, snapping Bish's attention back to the matter at hand. "He'll be here if we need him again, trust me."
Bish looked out on the Argonaut, its massive hull dwarfing their comparatively smaller ship. The trap had been sprung; there was no turning back from this now.
"Commence the attack." He ordered.
VIIIIIV
Reviews:
Xx13deathsxX
Really do enjoy bandit squad and all the characters in it. I had been waiting for this story for a while now, I like the internal conflict that Jake has to go through since he is siding with the militia and the fact the world isn't black and white. It was amusing to see the snoring that Desmond did, made him seem more human. Can't wait for the next update.
War never is black and white, is it? Something that every person involved in a war has? A story, this is Jake's, that's all. I'm sorry my updates have been so sporadic, I lost access to my laptop for a few weeks and the Xmas period set me back too, but hopefully I should be a bit better from now on.
I sense a halo reach quote :p lol nice use of it though honestly and I can't believe that Desmond became temporary squad leader. Definitely wasn't expecting that, this story is always nice to read especially since a character I suggested is in it :) um if it's not too much to ask if you do decide to kill off Desmond could I tell how I would want him to die?
It definitely was a Halo: Reach Easter egg. It's one of my favourite games to be honest with you. Anyway, I can tell you that I'll never kill off a character unless it has important ramifications to the rest of the story. But your idea for his potential death does give me a few good ideas though :]
titanfallpilotarchives
I'm very happy John got some action. I know he's not too fond of Ace yet but I would appreciate it if in the next chapter you can have Ace save his life or something. I would love to see them get along
Well, John definitely saved Jake when he got that hole blown through his chest. If he'd left him in Angel City, he would've been a goner. Hopefully, they'll be better off now they're allies.
OMFG I love your fucking guts Riley, you played John exactly like I hoped and I can't thank you enough, it means so much to me that you could use him and the fact that you had Jake save his ass that's just icing on the cake. You better keep up the good work and keep this story alive. Kudos man I'll be waiting for chapter 11.
I'm doing this for you, man. And everyone else who reads this story. It's just nice to have you review the story every now and again.
Mac Gustah
I got the Notification, luckily, but exams and stuff took up all my time, so this is the first chance for me to Read it.
I gotta say I really enjoyed it. Are you insinuating that Vlad stole the Sparrow? Cause that's awesome.
Sadly, I don't have much time, do the short review Will have to do. I'll write a longer one next time :)
I am definitely saying that Vlad had a hand in it, he certainly helped 'liberate' the Sparrow. 'Stole' is such a harsh word, wouldn't you agree?
So... I'm a bit late to the party, but apparently FanFiction thinks I don't deserve to follow BoB as once again I did not get an alert. Oh well, I'm here now I guess.
I really enjoyed this chapter (as is usually the case) but I did notice you changed Vlad's Titan to Lenin. I don't mind of course, but could you elaborate on your choice?
NOOOOO Vlad! I gotta say I really enjoyed that part, although I don't quite understand Vlad didn't eject (not counting the need for a little conversation between Vodnik and his attempted murderer for story's sake). Although if he is to die, covering his friends' retreat and taking out 7 mechs is a worthy way to go.
The aftermath of the battle was quite interesting, both from a tactical and a personal point of view. The Militia really has to hope they can make the whole Angel City debacle worth it by using Barker's knowledge to their advantage, as well as the apparent impact Vodnik's (near) death has on Bandit squad and apparently quite a few people amongst the crew (including a random nurse).
The sewer scenes were very well done as well. Got a real sense of impending soon from that. Also more of Jake proving himself to be trust worthy.
Cheers for now and I am looking forward to the next chapter!
I can't elaborate on Vlad's Titan name just yet, but you'll see soon enough :] He didn't eject due to pride, probably. He had it handled. Vlad fought seven Titans and came out on top, if David hadn't surprised him, he would've been fine. As for the Militia feeling the reverberations from Angel City; you know the saying, no sacrifice, no victory.
JORDAN
CONTINUE THE F******* STORY, MATE!
EVERYBODY HATES A DEADEND!
OKAY! I'LL CONTINUE IT, BUT ONLY BECAUSE YOU TOLD ME TO AND NOT BECUASE I STARTED THIS STORY WITH EVERY INTENTION OF COMPLETING IT, EVEN IF IT DOES TAKE ME A WHILE. Christ, mate. Chill out :]
Gotasegway
Quick question: When will the next chapter be ready? Just curious, but don't rush! You are doing an amazing job! I love how you describe the characters and their motivations. Keep up the good work! (PS, I f'n love Ace!)
I'm sorry if there are any grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language :/
Like I said before, I am sorry for the inconsistent update schedule, but I am trying to do better. Thank you for your support, it means a lot to me. (P.S. I f'n love Ace too!)
Bladezzkiller99
Hey dude, getting back on you adding my OC on your story; Thanks! You know you're the first to include him? Granted that entire text-dump I wrote on my Xbox is a little (a whole) bit overwhelming, I'm just mainly happy that you just put him in there, my original backstory be damned. So I'll say the following; Don't worry about it, do what you want with him (and Nigel, thanks for including him as well), and most of all: I'm giving my full consent if you wanna change stuff about either (Or Jayden's, if she's still in there). Bottom line; Thanks for adding them and I'll be looking forward as to this story as you update it.
To be honest, Jayden probably won't make it into the story, but I'll try to make Sprocket a recurring character who pops up every few chapters when he's needed. Thanks for giving me your permission.
Awesome story so far dude! I'm looking forward to the Three towers mission as well as Demeter, just because of all the possibilities that you have in this line of storytelling. Anyway, Love the story still, keep on going strong.
I'm looking forward to it as well, it's gonna be one to remember, trust me.
