Fresh Beginnings #1

Episode 7: Assignments

The brass will always point the way, to the stars so far away . . .

-Popular JAF Song Lyric-

0751 HOURS – 01 MARCH, 2214

"The war between the Confederation and the CEGA flared hot again last night when JAF warships clashed with a CEGA convoy in the vicinity of asteroid bel. While CEGA officials have maintained that the convoy was bearing emergency medical supplies to one of their outlying research stations, JAF spokespersons have claimed to have conclusive evidence showing that the vessels in question were part of a munitions convoy headed for naval bases along the frontier of the asteroid belt."

Adelene Chan looked up from her seat in and at the video screen mounted at the front of the passenger compartment of the shuttle she was riding. It was a pre-recorded ZONET broadcast, bringing top-of-the-hour news to the inhabitants of the Solar System. A series of images and footage was playing on the screen now, most of it being archive material which she had seen time and again in the past.

"While military officials on both sides have declined to comment on their losses, eyewitness reports have indicated that at least one JAF warship and three ships from the CEGA convoy were destroyed in the engagement. Exo-armor and interceptor elements were also said to have taken part though it is unclear if any were lost." The voiceover went on.

So the war was really heating up again and people were beginning to take notice. Of course, she had access to the reports that had been coming in over the past few weeks. Despite the official policy by adopted by both nations aimed at avoiding future clashes following the Battle of Kurtzenheim in hopes of working towards a negotiated peace, the reality of the situation was nowhere near as pleasant.

Such a policy did not mean that the JAF had only been passively defending Jovian space. Several pre-emptive strikes had already been carried out against targets that were deemed as a threat to the Confederation should the CEGA decide on an offensive campaign any time in the future. And with no progress in the negotiations at the United Solar Nations, the CEGA and Confederation were still in a de facto state of war. The way Adelene saw it, it was only going to be a matter of time before either side would push for a more violent resolution to the conflict. Of course, the Jovian public had by and large remained blissfully unaware of JAF offensive operations . . . until now.

"Neither side has been willing to display any of the proof that is said to substantiate their version of the story." The unseen newsreader concluded. "In other news, the JAF announced that the first phase of its expansion plan since the start of the war has been completed. With the influx of volunteers rushing to sign up for a stint in their nation's defense forces, the JAF has expanded nearly twofold in terms of personnel and equipment since the start of the war."

Adelene sat up and took real notice of that. A part of her wondered if any of this stuff she was hearing was actually supposed to be secret. "Four more exo/fighter squadrons were established for service this week, bringing the total number of new squadrons formed since the declaration of war to sixteen. These new squadrons are the Starslayers of Alpha Division, the Vanguard Defenders of Beta Divisio and the Olympian Thunderbolts and Dirty Dozen of Gamma Division." The insignia of the squadrons were now being flashed on-screen.

The one that interested Adelene most was that of the Olympian Thunderbolts. The emblem was a simple variation of the Confederations thunderbolt ensign. Instead of the mailed fist grasping twin, crossed thunderbolts, the squadron's insignia consisted of a gloved fist grasping a single, golden lightning bolt, poised to hurl it downwards.

"Reports indicate that the various squadron leaders and their pilots are already on their way to their stations and that these new units will be operational soon."

Adelene smiled at that and she looked out the window next to her. Khannan Base was coming into view now. The massive military facility was the home port of Gamma Division's fleet and the heart of her operations in peace and war. Even though it wasn't her first time to Khannan, the sight of that gargantuan space station, hovering in Ganymede's orbit, still left her awed.

While Khannan was not as impressive in terms of size as Geiersburg in the Trojan State of Vanguard Mountain, there was no mistaking the dormant, untapped power of the dozens of warships that were anchored around the station like shoals of silvery white fish. Scores of shuttles, cutters and launches were making transits back and forth while hundreds of M-pods and exo-suited maintenance crews and welding teams swarmed over the vessels like so many fireflies.

She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window as the shuttle made a slow lazy turn towards the base. The golden bars set on navy blue tabs on her collars twinkled in the lightning of the passenger cabin.

Lieutenant Adelene Chan . . . she thought to herself and felt the tug at the corners of her mouth as the smile on her face grew. It was about time. After investing six years in the JAF, four of them flying interceptors off various carriers and space stations, she could finally exchange the square tabs of her probationary rank of Warrant Officer for the coveted rectangular blue tabs of a commissioned officer.

Unlike other armed forces in the Solar System, Jovian officers were never commissioned immediately after their officer training. Instead, they were granted the rank of Warrant Officer where they would serve for a period of anywhere between three to eight years before they were considered eligible for actual commissioning. This relatively long delay explained why there were so few officer ranks as compared to the structures of other nations.

The first commissioned rank was that of lieutenant, followed subsequently by captain, commander, colonel and finally general.

But it wasn't just the rank that Adelene was elated about. It was more than just the increased pay or those shiny, golden bars. More than the satisfaction of having earned that commission.

She had been mentioned indirectly in that news bulletin. The Olympian Thunderbolts were hers to command. The post-Kurtzenheim JAF was a very different force from the one that she had first chosen to make a career in. Many pilot officers had either been killed or wounded in that cataclysmic battle while others have been removed from command for various reasons. Some for their participation in putting the Confederation on the slippery road to war with the CEGA, some for being part of the Principii conspiracy and a few others for dereliction of duty resulting in a near-defeat in the skies over Mars.

With the expansion of the JAF, particularly its exo armor and fighter arms, the need for experienced officers was more acute than ever. The Battle of Kurtzenheim had been the event where many promising young officers had won their spurs while older, inadequate officers were removed for failing when put to the test in the cauldron of war. As a result, Lieutenant Adelene Chan had found herself placed in command not long after her promotion.

The combat squadron command slots in the JAF were dominated by exo pilots. Interceptor pilots seldom got to command the fleet squadrons unless they were purely interceptor units. Exo squadrons were naturally led by exo pilots while mixed force squadrons tended to be led by exo pilots as well. It had pleased her intensely to know that she had beaten the odds and become one of the rare interceptor pilots to hold command of a mixed force squadron.

The hatchway to the shuttle's flight deck slid open and the flight engineer, a young corporal struck her head back into the passenger cabin. "We're almost there, ma'am. I suggest you start belting up again."

Adelene nodded wordlessly and began to work the seat harness across her body. She could detect the change in pitch of the shuttle's engines. The inertial compensators gave her the impression that the shuttle was decelerating as it got closer to its destination. In another few minutes, she would be arriving at Khannan and with that, her very first command. Glancing at her reflection once more, she straightened her uniform, grasping both collars and giving them a good tug to ensure a snug fit around her neck. Again, the rectangular rank tabs gleamed in the light.

Command! How she had longed for this. It had been her dream ever since she took the oath of service and started her path on the career to being an officer in the JAF. Now at the age of twenty-five, she was a lieutenant, with command of a squadron to boot.

Outside, the view of the star-specked blackness was replaced abruptly by the massive interior of a docking bay as the shuttle slid in on final approach. Off to one side, she could see several repair teams working to patch up a gaping hole in the side of a Corsair-class frigate with the help of an M-pod.

The shuttle was gliding along now, down the length of the immense docking bay. There were several other ships docked here including the fabled Godsfire which had revolutionized modern starship design when it first appeared.

And then the surroundings had stopped moving past the window and she could feel the shuttle rotating on the spot. There was a mechanical whine as the shuttle deployed its landing gear. A moment and a touch of thrusters later, the small ship had slipped into an auxiliary craft bay, the pilot setting down his charge without anything more than a barely perceptible bump.

Lieutenant Adelene Chan waited for the sound of the engines to finally die down before she started to undo the restraints that held her to her seat. Behind her, the boarding ramp was starting to lower itself.

0802 HOURS – 01 MARCH, 2214

Corporal Joshua Loke resisted the urge to even shift nervously as the leading edge of the shuttle's ramp began to close the gap with the deck. He wriggled his toes inside his magnetic boots and took a deep breath. Meeting a new commanding officer for the first time always made him anxious.

After his 'stay' with the JIS following the Battle of Kurtzenheim, he had longed for a combat assignment again. The extensive 'debriefs' by the intelligence people had left no doubt in his mind that he was under suspicion and it had taken weeks to convince his interrogators that his close proximity to a Martian Federation defector did not make him a traitor or any sort.

Despite being placed on TAD (Temporarily Assigned Duty) which saw him being detached from his squadron to JIS Headquarters, he never managed to see Hauptmann Peter Tan again. Subtle inquiries about the defector only resulted in his questioners become dubious of his reliabiliry and he had spent even more time undergoing interrogation, debriefing and questioning as well as the occasional 'test'. By the time he was a truly free man again, his squadron had deployed to space once more. Without him.

When the JIS was finally done with him, he was without a unit. He had jumped from temporary assignment to assignment while the people in Manpower tried to figure out where they could slot him. He had wanted to get back into the cockpit of an exo though he feared that something he had said in the countless 'interview; might have given them reason to mark him down as unreliable.

He discovered those fears to be unfounded when her finally received orders to join the Olympian Thunderbolts which was being formed on Khannan Base. He had arrived four days ago in high spirits, thrilled at having the chance to get back into a combat post. But any illusions of his new assignment being a special unit like his previous one were dispelled the moment he arrived.

There were no officers to begin with. The squadron wasn't even at half-strength and was provisionally led by one Sergeant Ryan Tan, an outspoken interceptor pilot who seemed suspiciously old for his rank. The man had not seemed to take much joy in his job and he hardly cared about them, checking on them from time to time to make sure none of them had gone AWOL and precious little else. He hadn't even allowed them to fly though they certainly had the equipment in place.

That had disappointed Joshua most. The inability to strap into an exo and take to the skies once more. It was an urge that had only been made stronger by his stay with his JIS interrogators.But there was a little bit of hope, now that the squadron leader had finally arrived.

Apart from the sergeant, four other pilots were all that made up the squadron which should have had a strength of twelve. Sergeant Ryan Tan was actually a grizzled veteran of a Lancer pilot of so he liked to claim in the rare moments that he actually got them together as a squadron. He was a squat man, with a wide chest that might have once been powerful. He was also brimming with intelligence though he possessed a caustic wit and he never seemed keen on making friends with anyone.

The only other interceptor pilot in the squadron at the moment was Private Grace Fong. By any standards, she was puny. Even in the lower gravity of the Jovian space colonies, her height had not even exceeded the average of planet-bound humans. Shy and humble, Grace was certainly dedicated to her work, taking everything that came her way with a great deal of seriousness and reverence. Immensely bright, she had all the makings of a good officers had she not been so soft-spoken. However, the needs of the JAF always came first and so she had found herself posted to the Thunderbolts to being her career as a junior enlisted interceptor pilot in the squadron. One thing was for sure. She'd make a good office some day.

Joshue looked at the other two privates standing next to him. Both of them had arrived the day after he had. Apparently John Cheah and Breanna Chan had badgered their previous CO for a transfer and they had ended up in the Thunderbolts. Both of them had gone through exo-training together and despite their apparent animosity, they were actually the best of friends.

Like the other men in squadron, John was sturdily built and not particularly tall. He was more muscular, built like a bull and allegedly possessing the intellectual abilities comparable to one, if Breanna could be trusted. Despite coming across as a brute at times, Joshua and John had hit it off rather well.

Where John was reputedly clumsy and ungainly, Breanna Chan was a spunky little woman who exuded graceful agility. Joshua had the feeling she was an excellent pilot though John would never admit it and Breanna was simply too humble to confess that to a combat veteran such as himself. But judging from the way he saw her move in zero-gravity, Joshua was sure they already had a potential ace amongst them.

And for the moment, these two were his people since he was the senior exo-pilot amongst them. It seemed ridiculous that he was commanding was administratively amounted to a flight. That was the job of a junior officer or at least a senior sergeant and he was neither.

The ramp made contact with the deck and a lone female officer, wearing the gleaming new collar tabs of a lieutenant on her shoulders, made her way down the ramp. Though Joshua had no idea why at that point in time, he heard Breanna gasp next to him.

0803 HOURS – 01 MARCH, 2214

Lieutenant Adelene Chan was not prepared for what she saw the moment she stepped off the shuttle's ramp. The seasoned sergeant who greeted her looked as if he had a week's stubble on his jaw and was clad in overalls which looked like he had worn to sleep.

"Good morning, ma'am." His hand came up slowly in a slipshod imitation of a salute.

She frowned at that and did not respond immediately. Looking him once over, she noted that his 'uniform', if one could call it that, was a disheveled, unwashed mess. Resisting the urge to pick on everything that was wrong with him in one go and coming across as a martinet, she started off with, "Very sloppy salute, Sergeant." She made his rank sound like an insult, keeping both hands firmly by her side.

She could see a flash of anger and defiance in the sergeant's eyes. Then his hand, which was still held near his right brow, wavered and finally dropped. When it came up again, the salute was considerably sharper despite a very pronounced reluctance to it.

"Good morning, ma'am." His voice was now devoid of any emotion.

"Morning, Sergeant . . ." She grated and stepped a little closer to him, trying to make out the grease-stained nametag on the chest of his overalls.

"Ryan Tan. That's me." There was a slight edge of insolence in the way he spoke.

"And you're the acting . . . commander, of the Olympian Thunderbolts?" She had been careful not to address him as the Commanding Officer since he was only a sergeant after all.

"Commander, custodian, nursemaid, babysitter. You can call we what you want." Ryan replied almost disinterestedly. "But yeah, this bunch of misfits are mine."

"Not anymore." The lieutenant said coldly. "As of now, they . . . and you belong to me."

""Why, certainly, ma'am. Whatever you say, ma'am." There was something infuriating about the haughty way that he said those word. "I stand relieved. Both officially and literally, of course."

"That's not funny, Sergeant." Adelene snapped. "And don't you know what it means to shave?"

"I'm trying to grow a beard then, ma'am. Ain't nothing in the JAF Dress Instructions that say I can't."

"You're right," she conceded. "But that monstrosity on your face is not what I'd call a beard, so get rid of it. Today. Return to ranks."

"Ok, ma'am." And Ryan turned smartly, almost tauntingly on his heel and strutted off to join the pilots who were assembled to meet her.

At a glance, she could tell that Ryan had obviously not been particularly picky about the individual turnout of the pilots. The guys were pretty chunky – muscle or flab, she'd soon find out. The women, like herself, were on the petite side and she froze when her eyes came to rest on one of them. No . . . it couldn't be . . .

But it was her and Adelene Chan could see the flash of recognition in the other pilot's eyes. Breanna Chan was standing before her, wearing the uniform of the JAF, with the qualifying insignia of an exo-pilot pinned on her chest.

Any reunion, happy or otherwise, would have to wait for now. Smoothing over her features to hide any further signs of surprise, she stepped up to them. She put on her best 'command face' and hope it would make a better first impression with the rest of the pilots than she had with the sergeant.

"Good morning, people. I am Lieutenant Adelene Chan and I will be your squadron commander."

0835 HOURS – 01 MARCH, 2214

"Captain Ho?" The blonde sergeant at the desk flashed a dimpled smile as she looked up at the man who had been sitting on the couch, waiting patiently for the last half hour. "The General will see you now."

Captain Andy Ho, former CO of the JSS Falchion, rose from the sofa and straightened his uniform. Behind him, the leather of the couch began to shift up gradually, indicative of the long period he had spent sitting. He crossed over to the large double doors that lead to the personal domain of Gamma Division's commander.

"Good luck, sir." The sergeant winked at him.

"Thanks." He rapped his knuckles against the door thrice in quick succession, then paused for a few heartbeats before twisting the knob and taking the plunge.

General Konrad Koudriopoulos looked every bit like the man who had appeared in the newsvids. Tall, broad-shouldered with handsomely chiseled features and dark green eyes framed by those famous, bushy brown brows. He rose the moment he saw the captain shutting the door behind him.

Captain Ho's hand came up automatically in a sharp salute as he stopped before GamDivCom's desk. "Captain Andy Ho, reporting as ordered, sir!"

The General returned the salute before extending his hand across the table. "Welcome, Captain. Sorry to have to drag you from your work."

"It is fine, sir. The disturbance was minimal." Andy replied crisply as he took the General's hand.

"I'll be it was." GamDivCom grinned. "I'm told that you're going crazy down there in BuShips."

"Frankly, sir . . . I don't think BuShips is the place for me." Andy admitted, referring to his current assignment with the Jovian Armed Force's Bureau of Ships, which oversaw the design, procurement and construction of warships.

"Not as exciting as commanding your own ship, isn't it?" Koudriopoulos allowed a slight smile as he saw the junior's man's heartfelt nod of agreement. "Please, Captain. Do have a seat."

They both took their seats and Andy made sure he sat upright, unwilling to take any of the General's hospitality for granted.

"You must be wondering why I sent for you. We'll come to that in a moment." Koudriopoulos smiled again. "But first, I want to commend you for a job well done in proposing those changes to the Majestic-class design. I read your report myself and it was fantastic work."

"I only wish I did a better job with the Falchion at Kurtzenheim." Andy replied regretfully.

"You think that's why you got saddled with a desk job?" The General eyed him critically from across his large, ornate desk.

"Honestly, sir? Yes. Seems to be the case with a number of other officers."

"Koudriopoulos stared at Andy, then looked away thoughtfully. "You're right. There was just no avoiding that witch hunt after Kurtzenheim. Our fleet got mauled there when we shouldn't have."

"With our new ships coming online, I'm sure we'd be able to meet the CEGA forces on better terms the next time." Andy offered by way of consolation.

"Makes you really wish you were commanding one of them, doesn't it?" The General fixed him with a conspiratorial look. "Which brings me to the reason I've called you here. What do you know about the Fantasia Project?

"Sir, that's the upgrade program for the Forge-class carriers, isn't it?" Andy saw the General nod and he frowned slightly as he tried to recall some details. "I thought the plans were shelved back last July and the design never left the drawing board?"

"That was before Kurtzenheim, Captain." Koudriopoulos explained. "Anyway, we did begin work on one of the hulls originally designated for a Forge-class vessel. The modifications were easy enough to make and she's almost complete. Fantasia will be the first ship in the Forge II line of vessels."

"I see. But don't we already have the Majestics?"

"Let's face it, Andy. You and I know that the Majestic is a supercarrier designed for large fleet engagements. And God knows, neither the President or the Agora is likely to let us risk them in battle until we've built them up in sufficient numbers. In the meantime, we're still going to need something that can patrol the space lances and still bring a credible striking power to the frontlines. And given the fact that we are now at war, we're going to need more platforms out there carrying fighters and exos to guard our borders." Koudriopoulos said by way of explanation.

"I suppose you have a point there. And with the ability to accommodate a full squadron without impairment to its range and endurance, I guess the Forge II will be perfect for the task."

"Exactly. That is of course if the design proves to be every good as it's said to be."

"True. So how exactly do I fit in?"

Koudriopoulos took a breath and smiled. "Not wasting time now, are you? I'm sorry that this is rather belated. The orders had already been cut but after Kurtzenheim, I really wanted people who were there to sit on the Majestic's design review team, hence the necessary diversion from combat duty."

"Sir . . .?" Andy noted that the General was grinning now. "You mean . . .?"

"Congratulations, Captain Ho. You are going to be the first commander of the first ship in the Forge II line of vessels. You are to report to the Fantasia tomorrow to take command and make all preparations for her space trials. I expect you to be out of dock in no more than two months."

0835 HOURS – 01 MARCH, 2214

Having given her pep talk to the pilots who would soon be flying under her command, she had told them to stand easy while she went over the squadron's inventory with the sergeant. The twelve vehicle bays located in the squadron hangar were relatively new and she was glad at the knowledge that she wasn't receiving machines that had seen hard action in recent history.

Three Pathfinder Alphas and a single Pathfinder ST or sniper version, made up the squadron's present exo complement. She wasn't really an expert on exos but she knew that the Pathfinders were best classified as light, general-purpose machines capable of scouting, early warning, interception and combat aerospace patrols. It wasn't a particularly durable unit as the Battles of Elysée and Kurtzenheim have already proven. The ST version removed all of the standard weaponry for a single high-precision railgun that had a reputation of destroying enemy exos with a single well-placed hit.

Since, she wasn't yet sure who amongst the three exo pilots was the best shot or whether there would be any better marksmen arriving in the days to come to flesh out the rest of her squadron, she would keep Joshua, Breanna and John on the three Alphas for now.

For the fighters, she had a single Intruder, which she already decided would be hers. Five Lancers made up the rest of the complement. Capable of multiple mission modes thanks to its configurable and detachable Advanced Tactical Mission Pod, she would have to spend some time working with Ryan and Grace to find out what roles they excelled in.

"The machines look pretty much in good shape, sergeant." She looked over at the enlisted man who had followed her on her tour of the squadron hangar. "Can't say the same for the people though."

Sergeant Ryan Tan took no heed of the barbed comment and Adelene made a note to review his records later. She needed to find out what exactly made this man tick and if she found reason enough, she wouldn't hesitate to put in transfer papers for him.

"Aren't there any other officers other than me?" Adelene asked, more in frustration than in curiosity.

"We were expecting one junior officer earlier today. One of the flight leaders. So far, only you have turned up."

"Well, then go and find out what's happened then," Adelene shook her head, appalled at the man's apparent lack of interest. "I think I can handle things down here."

"Yes, ma'am. Very well." And without another word or a salute, the sergeant turned and stalked out of the hangar.

For a long moment, Adelene stood in the centre of the hangar, staring up at the towering exo armors and the sleek interceptors. Ten high-tech machines in all. Six more to form a full squadron's complement with spares. And she'd need more pilots too. Officers in particular.

She heard someone moving towards her and she turned. It was Private Breanna Chan.

"You wanted to see me, ma'am?"

"Oh, screw it, Bre. You can drop that 'ma'am' crap around me." Adelene replied in a tone of mild frustration. "Please . . . I'm your sister!"

"Doesn't exempt me from military protocol, does it? And I thought you've always dreamed of having people call you that?" Breanna wasn't exactly all smiles to see her again. "Besides, would you like the rest of the squadron to know?"

"Does it matter what they think?"

"Maybe not to you. But it does to me." Breanna was being every bit as difficult as Adelene had remembered her to be.

"Look, Bre, I don't want to argue . . ."

"Now that would be a first." The junior pilot replied brusquely.

"Hey, I've changed, you know?"

"No, I don't know. And why should I? You've not been home in nearly three years. And it's not like you've been writing either."

"Hey, unless you haven't noticed, there is a war on, you know?" In spite of herself, Adelene could feel her temper rising. It had been so long since they last met that she had forgotten what it was like to argue with Breanna.

"And you've become pretty good at it. Or at least that's what I've heard." There was surprisingly no bitterness in those words and Adelene interpreted it as an attempt at a disarming statement.

"So why are you here, Bre?" Adelene looked at her sister with mild distress. "What are you doing in that uniform? And what the hell is that doing on your chest?" She was pointing to the thunderbolt and mailed fist insignia of the JAF's exo armor arm which was unlike the thunderbolts and wings that Adelene herself wore, denoting her status as an interceptor pilot.

For the first time since they met again, Adelene saw her sister's lips crack into a smile. And it was anything but pleasant. It was that familiar smug look which Adelene was beginning to realize that she missed after al these years. "Well, you said it yourself, sis. There's a war on."

"Damn it, Bre. Don't you play around with me! We've been at war for barely six months. It takes a good eighteen months to train an exo pilot. That means you enlisted before we went to war!"

"I'm not blind. I could see it coming, sis." Breanna explained. "Many of us could. After Elysée, you'd be stupid to think that we could remain at peace with Earth forever."

"Why didn't you tell me you joined up?" Adelene demanded.

"Well, you haven't exactly been the most frequent of writers. And I knew you'd probably try to psych me into piloting interceptors instead of exos." Breanna told her sister sharply. "You were always fond of your fighters."

"That's because exos are deathtraps!" Adelene exploded. It was the same old debate on the superiority of interceptors and exos again. And this time, she was hearing it from her own flesh and blood. Her own sister! "Damn it, I was at Kurtzenheim, Bre! I saw dozens of exos die! Didn't you hear the figures on the news. Over a hundred exos were destroyed on either side in the grand mess!"

"And of course you're just forgetting to mention the forty-eight fighters that we lost." Breanna pointed out calmly. "That's a loss rate of nearly seventy percent of the fighters engaged as opposed to the forty percent losses the exos suffered. Sorry, sis. The raw numbers don't really speak for themselves this time."

"This isn't about fun and games or numbers, Bre. This is dangerous work." Adelene barked. "People get killed doing this sort of thing."

"You think I don't know that? And what do you expect me to do? Leave the JAF?" Breanna shook her head viciously, exasperatedly. "Please, I'm not a little girl anymore! Stop telling me what's good for me!"

"Breanna, you're being stubborn about this . . ."

"No, you are the one who's being stubborn. You've just been flying those stupid fighters of yours for too bloody long . . ." Breanna shot back, her body shifting into an aggressive stance that made the best of her small size. That was enough to give Adelene pause for a moment. Unlike interceptor pilots, exo pilots did receive mandatory training in unarmed combat.

"And what do you know about fighters?" Adelene glared down at her sister. "Oh, don't be such and idiot, Bre!"

"Oh, so now I'm an 'idiot'?" Fists were bunched up now. "I guess I stopped being your sister whenever you stop winning an argument . . ."

"Now, see here . . .!"

"Um excuse me, ladies . . ." Those words, while spoken softly and politely, came from a male and the two sisters stopped to turn at the person who had the audacity to intrude.

Standing in front of them was a handsome young man wearing the tabs of a Warrant Officer and the wings of an interceptor pilot. His bulging duffel bag was laid by his side. There was a certain boyish charm to him as he smiled awkwardly at them.

"What do you want?" Adelene spat.

"Um, so sorry to interrupt . . . I'm looking for the Olympian Thunderbolts . . ." Then the man noticed the bars on Adelene's collar and came to attention, saluting and completing his sentence. ". . . ma'am."

The CO of the Olympian Thunderbolts literally flung a salute back at the man and snarled. "Well, you've found us. Who the hell are you?"

"I've orders to report to this squadron." He dug inside his jacket, fumbling for a thin plastic data sheet. "I'm Officer James Wong, ma'am."

"You are also late." Adelene frowned outwardly and groaned inwardly. What was the universe coming to? She gave the man another hard look and her mind kept screaming the same thing. He looked to young to be an officer. Too young to lead men and women into battle. Too young to die.

1300 HOURS – 01 MARCH, 2214

"Pla-toon! Atten-shun!" Master Sergeant Ron Foo barked and the Marines assembled before him came to rigid attention as one. The platoon was smaller now than it had been before they had embarked on their last, fateful deployment to Mars.

Several replacements had arrived in the meantime, their faces fresh and cherubic, out of place amidst the collage of combat-hardened countenances that stared back at him. They were still a few marines short of replacing the casualties sustained in the Battle of Kurtzenheim and the transfers that had taken place as a result of JAF high command's efforts to spread experienced personnel amongst the three Divisions.

Their new platoon commander had arrived. Another youngster who had just graduated from OTS and had yet to prove himself to anyone. As soon as Ron was sure the troopers were properly formed up, he wheeled to face the man who stood waiting.

Warrant Officer Sean Yeo could have been considered a midget by Marine standards. Short, scrawny but spry, the young officer radiated confidence without arrogance. Under normal circumstances (ie peacetime), Ron might have actually have like the man. But his experience during the 'peacekeeping' mission on Mars had changed the way he viewed these young officers on probation.

The officer stood before them now, surveying their faces, trying to commit them to memory. Then, clearing his throat softly, he finally said, "At ease, Marines." Even though it had not been delivered as an orders, the troopers shifted to parade rest in precise unison.

"Good afternoon, people."

"Good afternoon, sir!" The platoon replied in a booming chorus.

Sean seemed heartened by the enthusiastic response. "I am Officer Sean Yeo and I'll be your new platoon commander," he said by way of introduction. "The Sarn't Major here tells me that the majority of you have seen combat on Mars. Well, I'm fresh out of OTS so I'm not under any illusions here. I'm maybe be the boss, but I do plan on learning a thing or two from each and every one of you."

There were no overt responses from the assembled troops since they were at parade rest. But Ron could sense the approval in his people. Even he couldn't shake the feeling now. Warrant Officer Sean Yeo was going to be a very different officer from the man he was sent to replace.

But of course, Master Sergeant Ron Foo had been in the business long enough to know that first impressions seldom counted.

1200 HOURS – 02 MARCH, 2214

It had not taken him long to find the dock where his new command had been moored. Try as he might, General Koudriopoulos had not allowed him the opportunity to report aboard that new ship first thing in the morning.

Of course, Captain Andy Ho knew that he was being unreasonable to expect such a privilege since certain protocols had to be followed when a captain arrived aboard his ship for the first time. Preparing for such formalities took time and the JAF took its tradition rather seriously.

So he had wandered around until the appropriate time, staring out viewing galleries that gave him splendid views of warships in dock both within and outside Khannan, shuttle craft arriving and departing in steady streams and exo/fighter squadrons putting their various machines through the paces.

He had arrived at the dock exactly at noon, the time stipulated in his orders for him to take command. The two members of the ship's crew who were stationed at the boarding tube were obviously expecting him and after checking his ID and offering to take care of his baggage, had allowed him to proceed up the tube and into the hull of his new command.

Climbing up that transparent passageway, he had an almost unobstructed view of his new home. There was the wedge-shaped forward hull where the Command Section, weapons mounts and hangar/launch bays were located, followed by the centrifuge that house the habitat ring. Located just behind was the Ops Section, looking like dual, thick doughnuts connected to each other. It was here where the ship's specialist functions, such as the workshops and intelligence centre were located. Coming right after the Op Section was the massive Drive Section, characterized by four long, identical, heat-dissipation fins that encased the five thurst nozzles for the plasma conversion chamber drives.

To the uninitiated, the JSS Fantasia possessed the standard look of most JAF warships. She even looked like the average Forge-class patrol carrier to the casual JAF observer. But Captain Andy Ho was neither.

He had spent a significant amount of his career flying Ranger, Archer and Lancer interceptors off Forges before subsequently rising to command the Falchion before it was crippled in Martian orbit. He knew a Forge inside out. He knew where each and every one of her curves and lines belonged. The Fantasia had a longer flight bay that boasted slightly longer runways, more spacious hangars and a dedicated repair bay located below the hangar deck. There was also increased armor protection allocated to sections of the ship that had either long ago been identified as weak spots to discovered to be vulnerable during the cataclysmic Battle of Kurtzenheim.

Ship Upgrade Kits were now being made available and the ships that were presently in dock for repairs were also being refitted with the new armor to bring overall protection to new standards. Ships currently on deployment would still have to wait for their turn in the yards but Fantasia would need none of that. She was the first of the patrol carriers to be built up to the JAF's new requirements and she would be the new benchmarks for which all other Forges would be compared against.

And she was his.

He smiled at the ship's name that was emblazoned in bold letters on her bow. Her hull appeared to be spotlessly clean and smooth, untouched by the harsh vacuum of space. That would change soon, he thought with another smile. He felt a electric thrill once more at the prospect of sailing the inky void between the planets and the other bastions of humanity, commanding several thousand tons of starship.

"Ship's Company . . . atten-shun!" A loud voice bellowed as he approached the portal that would lead him into the ship proper. There was the distinct sound of people shifting from parade rest to attention. A moment later, he stepped through the portal and got his first look at the interior of his new ship.

"Captain arri-ving!"

He could barely contain his excitement as the ringing of bells was piped through the overhead speakers. The sound was pre-recorded, of course, since it was impractical to place a bronze bell aboard a modern starship.

Ding-ding, ding-ding. Four bells, the traditional welcome for a ship's commander of an officer of Captain rank. As soon as he set foot onto the Fantasia, a bosun began to play an intricate pipe call while the Ship's Chief, the senior non-commissioned officer aboard, call for the assembled personnel to keep still.

A serious-looking, apple-cheeked lieutenant with short, raven-black hair met him halfway between the entrance and the assemblage of personnel. She came to a stop before he did, her hand rising in a stiff and correct salute.

Captain Ho stopped when he was an arm's distance from her and noted absently that he towered over her. Then he brought his own hand up. "Permission to come aboard, lieutenant?"

"Granted, sir." The women replied and both brought theirs hands down one after the other. "I am Lieutenant Kallie Chang, your Executive Officer, temporarily in command of the JSS Fantasia. I'm ready to be relieved, sir."

"Very well, Lieutenant Chang." Andy nodded formally and almost gravely. "I relieve you."

"I stand relieved, Captain." The XO of the Fantasia seemed to hesitate for the fraction of a second before stepping back and saluting him one more. "The ship is yours, sir."

"Thank you, lieutenant. I have the ship."

"Ship's Company, at ease!" The Chief bellowed once more and the waiting crew reverted o parade rest posture.

"Sir, with your permission, I'd like to introduce you to the officers aboard." Lieutenant Chang fixed him with an inquiring look.

"What's the present staffing level aboard?"

"We still don't have the exo/fighter squadron or the marine detachment aboard. As for the crew, we've got seventeen officers out of the required twenty-two and ninety-eight enlisted out of a required hundred and twenty aboard."

Ho nodded and looked to the gathered crew. It was just a fraction of those who were aboard, which itself was a fraction of what he eventually would have to command. A small knot of officers were standing in front of the enlisted personnel, waiting eagerly to be introduced to their new captain.

Most of the faces were unfamiliar, many of them young. More names for him to learn and remember. He thought back to the Falchion and thought he saw some familiar faces before him. But he knew it was just an illusion in a large part. The only thing similar between the crews of the two ships was the fact that they were all young.

And now that the nation was at war, he knew some of those faces would stay young forever, never to get the opportunity to age.