The Honour of the Knights, Stephen J. Sweeney [reading women .txt] 📗

passenger vessel in two, with ease. The power requirements must be astronomical!”

Yes, how did you do that? Dodds wondered. That's not technically possible. A part of him was intrigued, but another part of him was feeling a little uneasy. A three-dimensional image of the ATAF was continuing its idle rotation on the screen behind Mansun and he couldn't help but feel that he was looking upon something that shouldn't be; shouldn't need to be.

“I thought you might want to know that,” Mansun answered Andrea with a wry smile. “But unfortunately I can't provide any more information right now. Let's just say that we have access to some of the best architects and engineers that the galaxy can currently offer. As a comparison, you must remember that we are also able to travel a distance of many hundred light years in the space of only a few hours, something that was also considered impossible until you knew the trick.”

“Well, I have to say that I‘m very impressed,” Andrea beamed. “You and your engineers have done an absolutely incredible job.”

“Thank you,” Mansun said.

“And may I just add, on behalf of myself and my team, that it will be an honour to evaluate the Advanced Tactical Assault Fighter for the benefit of the Navy,” Andrea said, with another radiant smile that was now mimicked by her team mates. “Thank you for giving us this opportunity.”

Mansun gave a small chuckle, but did not answer. The project leader clasped at the back of his neck with one hand and turned in the direction of the still seated Parks. He was clearly a little embarrassed and was attempted to avoid eye contact with his admirer.

Dodds looked over at Andrea again as the woman settled back down into her seat. He found her quite beautiful, with sharp features and smooth white skin. Even now, she continued to wear that very attractive smile.

Mansun gave a cough and collected himself. “Any other questions?” he requested. “If not then I will wrap up this portion of the presentation and move on to the program for the next three weeks.” A few more hands went up from all three teams, with various questions aimed at elaborating more on various aspects of the starfighter. After answering a good number, Mansun decided it was best to press on, lest they spend the remainder of the afternoon stuck in the lecture hall.

“I'm sure any other questions that you may have will be answered once the training begins tomorrow morning,” he concluded and began to discuss the schedule for the following days' training and eventual graded evaluations.

Leaving the theatre, herded once more by Estelle in her eagerness to get back the simulation suite, Dodds was left with one question that he had refrained from asking. It seemed to him that the Confederation was preparing to push the bounds of military force and technology in ways that had not been heard of for centuries; even more so during peacetime. His question was “Why?”

* * *

Dodds found the initial few days of the training quite straightforward. The group arrived at their simulation suite and were taken through a number of basic flight programs. The simulated ATAF cockpit layout was quite similar to that of a TAF and it did not take long for the team to get used to it.

Contrary to what Ainsworth had said, Dodds did feel that he really was flying a “TAF with more guns”, and it was not long before Estelle began pressuring the group to move on to more advanced techniques.

As the days progressed, the learning curve began to increase, until they came to realise that more than a week had passed and they were beginning their first ungraded training exercise. As with the standard simulator tests, they were required to undertake a series of missions, though within vastly inflated constraints: a simple dogfight against six opponents ballooned into a struggle against over three dozen; the enemy supply line hit morphed into a strike run against an Imperial frigate, complete with escorts; and their own escort mission transformed into a monstrous operation involving the protection of a crippled carrier against an onslaught of opposing forces.

Had the Knights been flying anything other than ATAFs, many of the tasks would have proven next to impossible. As it was, the benefits provided by the fighter permitted the pilots a much greater fighting chance; though not always.

“A rather unrealistic combat simulation,” the training supervisor assured them upon the team's first failure. “Doubtful that such a situation would ever arise in real life. When you're ready, you can attempt the mission again. Remember that most capital ships have some structurally vulnerable points. If you focus your attacks against those, then you should be able to bring it down with relative ease.”

Dodds clambered out of his module, the scene of the carrier breaking up still projecting itself about the interior. The cannons of the frigate they were supposed to be defending it from were still ravaging the surface as he joined Estelle by the training supervisor.

“Can we use the accelerators?” Estelle asked, trying to do something about her ruffled hair. Even though they had failed on their very first attempt, it was clear she was already becoming frustrated, wanting nothing more than to succeed on the first attempt, with flying colours. Dodds felt his shoulders sag and he turned wearily to Enrique, who let out a sigh, lowered his eyes to the floor and shook his head. Kelly also appeared drained, even more so than Chaz, both of their eyes starting to turn red. The strain of the non-stop exercises, staring at a screen for well over an hour at a time, and having to concentrate hard on everything was taking its toll. It was a long time to sit in a cockpit, simulator or not, without a break.

“No, I'm sorry,” the training manager shook his head. “But whilst they were a part of your initial training and familiarisation, the accelerators aren't a part of these ungraded exercises, or the final evaluations, I'm afraid. Should you successfully complete the evaluation, and set yourselves apart from the other teams, then you may have a chance to use them during real life training.”

Estelle made sure the Knights succeeded on the next attempt.

* * *

After many hours spent in the modules, the final few days were upon them and arriving at the simulation suite the group were met by Commodore Parks.

“Good morning, Knights,” he greeted them.

“Good morning, Commodore,” Estelle saluted.

“As you were. As I'm sure you're well aware, today will see the beginning of your last three days at this facility and also the first day of your graded evaluations. Regardless of the outcome of these tests, you will be transferred to Xalan's Orbital to await further instruction. Your destination from there will be determined by your performance here; and I have to say, Lieutenant de Winter, that so far your team has performed far better in these evaluations than any of the others. I am expecting good things from you over the next few days. Good luck, Knights.”

“Thank you, sir,” Estelle said, saluting the commodore once more as he left the suite. Estelle turned to her team, her eyes bright.

“Okay, everyone. This is it. Let's give it all we've got.”

* * *

Four days later the White Knights stood before Parks, Ainsworth and Mansun in a meeting room aboard Xalan's orbital station. As they waited before the commodore, Dodds glanced momentarily to Estelle, seeing the woman almost bursting with pride. She caught his eye and gave him a wink.

Parks looked up. “I will keep this brief,” he began. “Your performance throughout the entire evaluation period has been nothing less than exceptional; you exceeded expectations in almost every exercise.”

“Thank you, sir,” Estelle said.

Parks' face remained expressionless. “However, compared with the final test results of the other teams, you did not perform as favourably. I realise that this is not the news that any of you wished to hear after all the effort you have put in, and on no account should you hold each other to blame for this,” his eyes flickered to Estelle. “I'm sorry to say that as far as your participation in the ATAF project is concerned, you will not be proceeding any further.”

Estelle was devastated, that much was obvious to Dodds, even above the poker face that she had practised for years. Inside she must have been distraught. Enrique and Kelly disguised their feelings less well, disappointment written all over their faces. Rather strange, however, was that despite the fact that Chaz had put one hundred and ten percent into the ATAF evaluations, the big man didn't seem bothered about the end of their participation in the project. In fact he almost looked – relieved?

Parks continued. “This is by no means a reflection on your abilities; unless you were of a high calibre, you would not have been selected in the first place.”

“Thank you, sir,” Estelle said, somehow managing to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

Dodds, Enrique and Kelly echoed her words. Dodds had half expected another speech from Estelle, mimicking Andrea's speech in the lecture theatre and thanking the commodore for the opportunity to have taken part, but she said nothing more.

“Guess we're all heading back to Gabriel then?” Enrique said, half to Parks and half to his team mates.

“Actually, Mr Todd, from here all five of you will be transferred to the Temper system...” Parks began.

“What?” Chaz said.

Dodds jumped at the sound of the man's voice. Not least of all because he was not that used to hearing it, but also because of the sheer anger that seemed to flow from the man like red hot magma. He turned to look at the man, though he subconsciously leaned away. Chaz's eyes were narrowed, his face furious. He was almost shooting daggers at the commodore sat before him. Dodds glanced to his team mates, noticing that they appeared every bit as surprised at the man's sudden outburst. Kelly, in particular, looked like a scared rabbit. On the other side of the desk, a shocked Ainsworth had begun tense fidgeting, looking with apprehension over to Mansun.

“The border?” Enrique said, once the shock of Chaz's outburst had subsided enough for the added impact of the new destination to sink in.

“Yes, Mr Todd, the Confederation-Independent border,” Parks continued, ignoring Chaz. “As you have been told before we are currently suffering from a lack of personnel, and thus an inadequate supply of experienced starfighter pilots. You also need to remember that we are still counting the cost of the theft of Dragon. It's not just the loss of the battleship that's troublesome, but the disappearance of virtually all who were serving aboard. Those numbers include several hundred starfighter pilots, all of the highest calibre that the Confederacy could offer; a figure that, as I'm sure you can well imagine, doesn't replenish itself overnight, nor even within six months.

“Your experience and skills will therefore be invaluable within the Temper system. Given all that we cannot afford to have you stationed anywhere else at this time.”

“This is just in the short-term, sir?” Kelly ventured.

Parks shook his head. “No. Until further notice, you will be posted to Spirit, where you will fall under the general command of Captain Meyers. Preparations for your departure to the system have already been made, and your transport will be ready to go within the next quarter of an hour. Please ensure you are ready to leave at that time.” The man's voice had an edge of finality to it.

Spirit. Dodds racked his brain to remember it. He then discovered why he had buried it so deep: the planet was supposedly run down and dilapidated, nothing about it at all very appealing, not even the “notable” parts. Certain Confederation planets that were home to military interests were wrapped with a large orbital ring. Spirit's had been under construction for many years, but had never been completed. It had fallen into disrepair as a result. The orbital station that hung above the planet was all there was to service the CSN's needs and was almost unable to handle the demands placed upon it. Dodds suppressed a feeling of horror. What had he agreed to come back to?

Mansun stepped forward. “On behalf of the research and development teams at Xalan, I would like to thank you all for your work in helping us evaluate the ATAF,” he said, shaking their hands in turn. When he came to Chaz he let out a yelp, a clear look of discomfort on his face. Chaz's eyes were still narrowed and he looked to have a very tight grip on the man's hand. Mansun retreated back, nursing his injured fingers.

“Yes, I... er... would also like to thank you,” Ainsworth said. “Erm... than... thank you.” He gave a little wave, but refused to move away from the