The Last Squadron by Dan Jayson

Author:Dan Jayson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
Published: 2017-05-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Allied Headquarters

If you have no ulterior scheme and no forethought, but just rely on your individual bravery, flippantly taking opponents lightly and giving no consideration to the situation, you will surely be taken prisoner.

Natasha had volunteered to lead a small reconnaissance party to make contact with headquarters. “I don’t want to risk what’s left of us charging down a road somewhere only to get bushwhacked again,” Alex had announced.

Her team, comprising Jones, Lloyd-Smith, Hodgetts, O’Reilly and Byrnes, lay in a long line like schoolchildren watching a movie on top of a ridgeline that overlooked a valley surrounded by heavily forested hills, just a few kilometres from the HQ.

She watched as the sun rose gently above the eastern hills and started its long process of burning off the thick white mist that hung in the valley, glowing with a sympathetic gentleness. It would have been beautiful, she thought, if it wasn’t for the plumes of black smoke and the rumbling of heavy artillery, which were almost disguised by the sound of thunder coming from some way off to their right.

“Fucking great,” moaned Hodgetts; “how come wherever we show up we find trouble?”

“Well, at least this time it’s still happening. Normally we seem to arrive after the fact,” replied Lloyd-Smith, squinting as he tried unsuccessfully to focus on the hills on the opposite side of the valley. He gave up; it was too far to make out anything using his nineteenth-century binoculars.

“Nice antique,” said Hodgetts.

“Yes. They were a present from my father on the day of my commission. They’ve been in the family for generations,” replied Lloyd-Smith with pride.

The sound of artillery drew closer accompanied by what looked like white and red electrical storm flashes raging within the mist below them. Natasha felt the hairs rise on her neck as she was enveloped in an electric field.

“Jesus!” muttered Byrnes. “That static, noise and light, that’s a PBW. I thought it was thunder and lightning.”

“What?” asked Hodgetts.

“Particle beam weapon,” clarified Jones.

“What, like a ray gun?”

“Yes. Just like a ray gun.”

“I bet they belong to those bastards,” said O’Reilly with a scowl.

“I know of two allied units that had them on trial, so maybe they are ours. But, more importantly, for once there’s a fight going on and we’re not too late,” interjected Jones.

“Lieutenant Byrnes, let’s get Baby ready and have a look,” said Natasha, edging back from the ridgeline.

The aerial drone known as Baby was no larger than a model aeroplane but could transmit high resolution imagery.

Within minutes they’d set up the launch ramp. Byrnes revved the little single engine to max, checked the thrust reading on the hold back to make sure that the engine was generating sufficient power, and then pressed the release button. Baby flew off the ramp, dipped, narrowly missing O’Reilly’s head, and then rose steeply into the air.

“Energising N-RIM now,” advised Byrnes.

Baby shimmered as the negative refraction index material that coated it began to polarise and Baby became invisible.

“I love it when it does that, just like the Klingon Bird-of-Prey in Star Trek,” continued Byrnes, cutting the thin hardwire control line.

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