Chapter 4: The Gathering Fleet

“Ha ... ha ... this music is so groovy, man,” an individual said in one of the shuttle seats. He was listening to something that was on his tablet as he was nodding his head. His composure was utterly laid back and said with the utmost calm and content that anybody had. If anything, to the others, he almost had the tone and voice of a person that might have been stoned. His pale complexion, voice, attitude, and long tied-up blond hair were a clear giveaway that he came from one planet in the UWA.

The shuttle that was en route to the UHN Brigade was filled with personnel, mostly being pilots and some marines. Every seat was used as the various individuals spoke to one another. However, a few seemed to focus mainly on the upcoming event. Everyone had to cope with it one way or the other. Despite the complexity and basic knowledge that people had about the upcoming operation, the overall morale was mixed. On the other side of the shuttle were two pilots, a man and a woman of mixed complexion, who seemed to be looking closely at the individual looking at his tablet and making odd comments. The man was looking closely at the somewhat stoned male character and then saw his name tag and rank.

“Umm ... that can’t be him,” the male pilot quietly said to the other. “Were the UHN that desperate to grab him too?”

The woman looked confused as she quietly responded to him. “Why? Who is this guy?”

“That Cebravin guy ... it’s Petty Officer Dean.” He shifted in his sidewall seat and made sure that his belt was securely fastened.

“Dean? I know a couple of Deans.”

“No,” the man said as he shook his head. “It’s ‘Dean’ as in Petty Officer 1^st Class Kevin Dean ... as in ‘Doper Dean.’”

The woman still gave a confused look. “I still don’t understand.”

The man almost seemed hesitant to explain. “I mean...,” he sighed. “You remember a story about Shuttle Incident 4-67?”

“Yeah, I do. That happened two years ago. Two shuttles almost collided. It was a common story that they told us about. All about shuttle safety procedures.”

“Yeah,” the man nodded. “Who was a part of it? One of the pilots was him ... Dean.”

“Oh, really?” the woman’s tone seemed to understand. “Uh ... wait. If that was him, then ... he actually saved the shuttle from crashing into the other. He made an incredible move that helped avoid it.”

“Yeah, but he was stoned out of his mind too. After that, they moved him to fly the F-170s. God, they are going to have him in this operation?”

“Wouldn’t he have been a part of Exercise Awakening Hawk?”

“There were many of us ... I might have missed him, or he might not have been a part of it at all.”

The woman watched Dean closely. The blond-haired individual still seemed to look at him as he was looking at his tablet.

“He doesn’t seem to be a bad guy,” the woman said. “Can’t blame him for being a little bit stoned at the moment ... the whole op supposed to be coming up.”

“Ah ... you just wait and see,” the man said. “God help us if he takes up flying again.”

A couple of seats on the same side as Dean was a T’rintar Aksren and an Oshunian woman, possibly a couple. The marine woman had a dark complexion to her and was holding onto the Itrean woman’s hand. The name tag on the marine’s uniform was Zalika. The Itrean woman had red and tan colored scales on her skin. She wore her clan’s familiar green and red uniform or just out of simple preference. The marine wore the standard blue and green camouflage shirt and jeans, much as many of the marines in the same shuttle. The name tag of Bekra was seen on the Itrean’s uniform. She was a little bit confused about the conversation that these two humans were engaged in.

“So anyway,” Zalika almost excitedly said in her faint Oshunian accent while waving her hand. “Here I was getting piss ant drunk with Joe ... he starts ranting away like a madman in the next two seconds. Starts throwing bottles around. Complains about ... hey ... are you paying attention?”

Bekra’s reptilian eyes seemed focused on the man and woman as they were focused on Dean. Her good hearing allowed her to listen carefully to the two humans as they spoke about the lone Cebravin not too far from her.

Zalika turned and looked at the two people briefly before looking back at Bekra. “What?”

“They are talking about this human with curiosity and fear,” Bekra said with the familiar Itrean accent.

Zalika turned and looked closely at the Cebravin that Bekra was hinting at. Dean was still focused on the video as he was giving an almost hearty laugh at the images. The Oshunian woman’s eyes momentarily widened a little bit as he started to recognize him.

“Oh ... Bekra, it’s him,” Zalika said with some excitement.

“Him, what?” Bekra asked her.

“Dean ... thee Dean!” Zalika leaned over on the fastened seatbelt and looked across the other passengers. Her words echoed in the shuttle interior. A few of the passengers were caught off guard as they almost witnessed the spectacle.

“Hey, Dean!” Zalika yelled out.

His partially hopped-up face and tone quickly carried as he looked over to Zalika. He placed his tablet down as he gave a cheery smile to her.

“Doper Dean!” Zalika announced as she held out her hands in triumph.

“Doper Dean?” Bekra asked.

“Hey, man, that’s me,” Dean remarked. Zalika reached over another person’s lap to extend her hand in a high five to him. “Wait ... Zalika? Oh, dude, it is you. Far-out.”

With that, Dean extended his hand and high-fived her. Bekra almost gave a light smile as she realized that it was just another of Zalika’s friends or known associates.

“It’s been like what? A year now? How have you been?” Zalika asked.

“Oh, you know how it’s been, man. Like ... you go and fly a few meters to the left ... you fly a couple of meters to the right ... then bam ... now you become a good Falcon pilot or something.”

“They got you a part of this whole op? That’s crazy.”

“Totally, but you know ... like we are like going to be ... like heroes or something, man.”

Zalika only seemed to smile more at him. “You know more of what’s going to happen. Bekra and I don’t have a clue except be here at this time and shit.”

“Oh ... oh man ... you got an Itrean friend now? Oh, that’s totally gnarly, man. Nah, we’re like ... going to fight the Aksren ... I think ... like not you, Bekra ... I mean the bad Aksren ... like really bad Aksren ... yeah. Like ... remember that whole Exercise Hawk something?”

“Hmmm...,” Zalika thought about it.

Bekra put her four-digit hand to her chin as she acknowledged it. Zalika was very brief in how she took the news.

“Ah, you must have taken a hit of the best shit then,” Zalika continued. “What was that? Hlen’weed?”

“Ha, ha,” Dean chuckled as he went and fished out of his pocket a small blue bud and looked at it closely. “Yep ... Hlen’weed ... the good shit.”

Bekra was trying to figure out this character. Getting stoned was acceptable in the UHN as there were no rules in most places, but there were still some commonsense decisions that were made when it came to it.

“Is that ... allowed?” Bekra asked.

“Of course, it is,” Zalika replied. “Half the people would have to be stoned to go fighting the enemy up-close anyway, at least for the marines ... Besides, I got my own special stash that I’m bringing with me. Good stuff to trade, among others. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, man. Like ... I made sure to bring my share,” Dean commented. “It’s the magic stuff that keeps on giving.”

One of the men who sat beside Dean gave him a look of interest, specifically the bud that Dean was holding. He tapped his shoulder and gave a gesture if he could have some.

“Whoa now, man,” Dean explained to the person. “I can’t just trade my good stuff away that easily.” He then gestured to his arm. The other person responded in kind. Dean tapped his left arm, and a three-dimensional menu screen appeared, projected from his hand. His left arm was nothing more than an augmented appendage. The other man pulled out his tablet and started to negotiate a price for it.

“See?” Zalika commented to Bekra as she lowered her voice. “I have like two buds of Seashunkelp ... best shit that grows in Oshun’s oceans ... well ... not as good as Cebravin stuff, but still good. I was planning on giving one to one of my friends that is going to be on the UHN Gladiator.”

Zalika tapped her left pocket to indicate the two small woven organic orbs of crushed kelp. Bekra understood enough of what she meant and said nothing else. She instead turned her attention towards the camera feeds outside the shuttle. The vessel was transporting the thirty individuals onboard to the UHN Gladiator, one of 16 readied assault carriers that were parked far from the Martian orbit. This wasn’t just including the fact that there were many other UHN vessels as well.

The upcoming operation was something that Dean seemed to acknowledge as he finished up a transaction with the man beside him. He happily handed the bud to the man before he shut down his augmented arm’s image. He then turned his attention towards the camera feed. He looked at the gathering fleet that was in position. There were numerous warships. A vast amount of them were the T’rintar clan. There had to be almost four hundred of the alien warships. Each one was of various sizes, being battleships, to dreadnoughts, to fleet replenishment vessels. Most of them followed the green blocky cylindrical profile. The twin rotating centripetal rings would spin in place while the great wall formation of ships remained still in the vestiges of space. Behind this wall were the UHN fleets. This included the Phalanx Class Assault Carriers.

The shuttle was heading towards the UHN Gladiator. It was one of these moderately large vessels. The assault ships were two modules connected into one unit. The rear module was an engine, power generator, and centripetal spinning ring. This was connected to the other main portion, which was the assault carrier. The Phalanxes were large, partially flat rectangular box transports. It consisted of two pairs of wings that lined its sides for atmospheric flight. The main bridge and cockpit were mounted on the starboard bow. Four AIO turrets lined the portions of the hull. On the top was a VLS torpedo launcher, and the front port side carried a twin light railgun turret. On the port bow section was a large frontal landing hatch. Numerous engines were mounted on the rear and sides, including controllable vectoring thrusters. The top starboard side was a large landing strip and starboard launch tubes for aircraft. The ship was quite majestic, looking for what it was intended for. On the bottom side of the Phalanx was a large mounted ground vehicle of some sort.

“Wow,” Zalika noted. “I never had a chance to be on these ships before. I’ve always heard of them in the marine corps ... never thought I was going to be on one of these. And ... look at the mighty MMACCs.” Her face gleamed with excitement.

“The large ground vehicle?” Bekra asked.

“Yeah ... dammnnn ... the tank thumpers ... fuck yeah ... dude, this is the big one!” the marine yelled out in the shuttle. “Finally, going to kick some ass!”

“I don’t understand.”

“Those big vehicles. They’re assault construction crawlers. They’re the most powerful ground vehicles the UHN marines have. The Phalanx class Assault Carriers would never bring those vehicles unless there was a major operation planned out. All of them have one. Hell yeah!”

“It’s just like the one at Eutera.”

“Yeah, but that was a civie colony crawler. The MMACCs have weapons, bays to repair vehicles, armor, hell, they can even carry a few Oshunian recon bikes in them. They’re mobile fortresses.”

“They seem like big targets,” Bekra commented.

Before Bekra had a chance to say more, the shuttle began to jolt a little bit as it was getting closer and closer to the UHN Gladiator. Its vectoring thrusters were fully activated to prepare it to land in the port bow hangar. One of the women got out of her fastened seat, grabbed ahold of a brace, and addressed everyone.

“Alright, listen up!” the woman announced. It caused everyone to quiet down. “With the operation coming up at 1100, everyone is to head over to the main landing bay facilities to receive the briefing. From there, you will head over to your respected assigned units. Briefing starts at 0900. Medical corpsmen are all on standby for you to receive immunity booster shots. You will all receive these shots regardless of whether you already had them or not. There are no exceptions to this order.”

“Damn, no lunch before the battle?” Zalika asked in a mocking manner.

“Heh, heh...,” Dean chuckled a little bit.

The woman that spoke out ignored Zalika. Bekra remained quiet as Dean almost put his hands behind his head. A big smile remained on his face. Instead, she simply kept a good hold of the railing as everyone watched the shuttle make its final adjustments before heading into the hangar.

“Man, were those shots really necessary?” Zalika asked Bekra. Dean wasn’t that far from them as the rest of the other gathering marines and pilots.

“Yes,” Bekra stated. Her clawed four-digit feet tapped the metal deck of the ship. Her magnetic wrappings were keeping her anchored to the deck along with every other human that was wearing their magnetic boots. The hangar and cargo facility consisted of almost the entire lower deck of the Phalanx carrier. It was a massive storage area for carrying numerous ground vehicles and personnel. Many of the UHN marines were dressed similarly to Zalika, but a few were in their respected power armor. Bekra noted that there were a few Itreans onboard. However, there were special allocated sections. The T’rintar clan had a vested interest in helping the humans, but their facilities were mainly established for support. The small area was all devoted to carrying a couple of their mobile mechs. There had to be at least two of them that were on standby. Everyone was heading to several established sections for the briefing. All in all, there had to be at least a thousand people in this one area that was over 150 meters in length.

“M30s, Hammers, Sprites, some Kujangs, fuck, they even have those mechs of yours, Bekra,” Zalika commented as they moved.

Bekra only seemed to slouch her crested head the moment she saw it.

“What? Did I say something wrong again?” she asked the Itrean.

“No ... those mechs ... there is only one way that you can control them.”

“Are you kidding? Look at those things. They are bigger than our power armor. It looks like it can fight like a beast! All you have to do is climb in.”

Bekra was shaking her head. She knew better, and it wasn’t reassuring to the Oshunian woman. Dean, on the other hand, only tried to offer his support.

“Hey ... you just got to go with the flow, man,” Dean commented in his relaxed manner. “Unwind ... let nature take its course. Like ... don’t you worry about yourself, Bekra.”

Bekra barely knew Dean, but she could at least give him the benefit of the doubt. Dean almost seemed like an innocent person, even if he was very laid back. The T’rintar clan mech stood at over eight feet in height. It consisted of shiny metal green plates that covered its sides. It stood on two digitigrade hardened legs with six razor-sharp claws on its feet that dug into the deck. It had two arms but had different weapons or equipment on each limb. The left side consisted of an enormous ballistic shield that covered from its shoulder to the ground. The other right arm consisted of an autocannon, laser cannon, and possibly a light railgun all in one ligament. The top part of the head had a pair of dim slanted unlit red eyes. There was also a razor-sharp crest on the very top, almost as if the mech had metal feathers. A few of the Itreans were servicing it and ensuring that it was fully operational. Although the UHN vehicles had more mass than this, the mech had a way of being awe-inspiring to the few UHN marines that wandered past it.

“This is nothing like Exercise Awakening Hawk,” Zalika noted.

“What we did a couple of months ago?” Bekra asked.

“Yeah ... it feels so much more bigger this time. We have to be going into Cipra. It was all with shuttles last time ... this time, it’s with carriers.”

“We were in Aphadus with the UHN vehicles for some time, especially in the desert side for two weeks.”

“Yeah, they had us operate in the dark and cold portion for only a week when compared to the desert side. I think they were really getting the marines attuned to fighting in Cipran environments.”

It made sense as Bekra thought about it. Exercise Awakening Hawk was the only true giveaway that a major operation was being planned without telling everyone. Zalika’s one-track mind shook it off as she looked around the carrier’s interior.

“Hey, Dean, you’re going to be going up, right?” Zalika asked him.

“What? Oh, oh, yeah,” Dean replied. “Yup, the Falcons are all parked up in deck three above us.”

“I don’t know about you, but if they’re putting you here with us, then we’re sure to win this fight.”

“Oh, you know. I just fly them ... if the Itreans want to play with me in the air, then like ... they’re welcome to ... if they try to shoot me down ... then I just shoot back. Of course, if they just want to come and get wasted together instead of shooting, then ... I’ll welcome it too. Make love, not war, man ... make love, not war.”

Bekra did a couple of quick nods as her scaly tail twitched. She looked up at the pilot. “I wish it were that way,” she said. She went and took Zalika’s hand and held it close to hers. The two women remained close as Dean gave an affirmative nod.

“Groovy, man ... groovy,” Dean commented.

They continued their walk as the three sometimes bumped into a few others. Dean didn’t seem as interested in everything that was present as the marines were at this level. Most of the feelings on the ship were mixed. Many questioned why they were there and what was going on. They weren’t completely clueless, however. The previous exercise not long ago at least calmed most of the soldiers’ feelings. Few seemed to know enough that they were trying to explain what was going to happen to the others before the main briefing was to occur. The higher chain of command obviously had enough knowledge of the planned operation. The few that gathered word were spreading it around. At the same time, the marines and personnel had put most of their minds together and reached a basic conclusion that a significant battle was coming. Dean, himself, remembered the statement that was enclosed to him that others must have received too. The message was that he was going into an engagement zone on a specific date and that he had to go to the UHN Gladiator. This was an order by the UHN, but it didn’t state exactly where this upcoming battle would be. However, the officers’ rumors were evident that it was Cipra. Perhaps this was to help discourage the possibility of spies or word getting out too quickly that the enemy clan would gather knowledge of the upcoming operation.

Zalika, Bekra, and Dean, along with several other personnel, had gathered at one of the many large makeshift alcoves. Large display screens and basic three-dimensional imagers lined this location. There was no room for seating in these areas with the exception of lengthy wall straps and uncomfortable seat racks with belt fasteners to hold people in place. It lined the entire storage facility. It technically didn’t matter since there was zero gravity to put a strain on the legs or feet.

“Well,” Zalika commented. “It’s almost 0900. Didn’t even have time to get our bunks ready.”

“I’m sure that we will get a chance to get comfortable,” Bekra replied.

Dean looked over to see a pair of pilots that were patiently waiting for the briefing. The aircraft logo insignia on their red and blue jumpsuit gave a hint that they were also aircraft pilots. They had seen him and gave a shorthand gesture for him to approach them. He stepped over to them but wouldn’t be too far from Zalika and Bekra. The two pilots were a man and a woman, but not the same people that were on the shuttle. One was a chief, and the other was a petty officer 3^rd class.

“Let’s see,” the chief said in a professional tone. He had a dark complexion to him, and his accent had a similar style to Zalika. “Petty Officer, 1st Class Dean, is it? I’m Chief Buziba. Welcome to the UHN Gladiator, air squadron Beta. This is Petty Officer 3^rd Class Feliciana.”

“Hey...,” Dean greeted the chief. “Hey, Feliciana.” He did a subtle salute to Buziba. “Nice to meet you, Chief.”

“Ah, you’re Cebravin?” Buziba recognized his accent and tone.

“Yeah, man. Like ... cruzin the skies and being one with planet’s nature, alright, yeah,” Dean replied with his subtle.

There was a look of confusion on the Chief’s face. “Are you alright?”

Dean quickly dismissed it with a slight wave of the hand. “Totally chillin. Just being relaxed for this upcoming flight, that’s all.”

There was so much chatter from the surrounding population that distracted the chief from thoroughly analyzing Dean’s behavior.

“Wait a minute,” Feliciana commented. Her Spanish accent was coming through. “Dean, I felt like I heard that name before...”

“Whoa, Paloran?” Dean greeted her. He walked up, grabbed her hand, and shook it, even if she hadn’t extended her hand to greet him. She simply looked down at the shaking hand of the generous pilot.

“Um ... um, yes, I’m Paloran,” pilot Feliciana replied. “Nice to meet you, Dean.”

“Dean,” the chief questioned. “Wait ... you don’t mean the pilot of Shuttle Incident 4-67?”

“Yeah, man,” Dean replied with hapless sincerity. “Like ... grab the flight stick and yank hard. That’s me.”

“Umm ... shit,” Feliciana’s suspicions were confirmed. “You’re going to be a part of this whole thing?”

“Hey ... hey now,” Dean waved his hands. “Don’t be so unglued. Get into the groove and look up my record. It won’t displease you. You know?”

“Well...,” Buziba gestured his hand to Feliciana to console her. “I’m sure that Dean is a more than capable pilot. He must have been a part of the previous exercise anyway to be a part of this. However, I will have to make sure that you are still fully qualified to fly one of the F-170s today before this whole operation.”

“UHN Certificate 8-10 certified.”

The chief’s eyes were wide upon hearing that. “What?”

“Yeah, man,” he tapped the chief’s shoulder. “You can look that up now. It’s like ... all there in my record.”

“That’s impossible,” the chief questioned in sheer surprise. “I only have the 6-10. Most pilots can reach 7-10 at their best.”

“I only got a 5-10,” Feliciana commented. “That has to be a hell of a flying ability to even reach that sort of skill in an F-170.”

“Well ... it’s pretty simple, really,” Dean calmly explained in his semi-stoned state. “You just grab the stick, press a few buttons, and then boom ... you’re flying. Then ... you like ... fly some more ... then everyone just gives you a bunch of gnarly things as a reward.”

“Umm ... just to be safe. I’ll check up your record, Dean. This operation is very serious.”

“I dig,” Dean acknowledged.

The chief tried to look more into Dean’s posture, movement, or any signs that he might be on substances that might compromise his operational readiness. Before he had too much time, the ship’s speakers were activated. The imagers began to power up as a three-dimensional display was shown of the UHN seal. It then switched over to depict the red, white, and blue emblem of the UHN marine corps. Everyone started to quiet down as they knew the presentation was about to begin. A singular officer walked out to address everyone, but it was difficult to tell who he was.

“Alright, everyone, listen up! I’m Major Kosai,” a male officer called out to the many marines. He had a shaved, crude-cut hairstyle and black hair. His complexion was a darker tan with facial features reminiscent of that of a former Saudi Arabian or Yemenite. Even his accent had a faint sound of that of a person with an Arabic tone. The display began to change to depict the planet of Cipra. The few that knew enough began to nod their heads in affirmation.

“Hey, shut your mouth down at third row!” Kosai yelled at a group of marines that almost didn’t quiet down. He stomped his magnetic boot to the deck, causing the entire area to quiet down. “As all of you are wondering, many of you have all been receiving the same message...” The officer began to pace the room as he kept his hands wrapped behind his back. “You have all been selected because we need every marine and pilot to help conduct one of the grandest operations that will ever occur this entire year.” He pointed his hand at the image of the planet. “We are going to liberate Cipra from the Aksren clan.”

“Yeah!” one of the marines yelled out in excitement. Many of the marines and a few pilots began to look at one another as they processed the news. Kosai kept a mean look, but he acknowledged with the various reactions. The announcement was mixed among everyone. Zalika was clapping her hands together. Dean was nodding his head a little bit but left him scratching his chin.

“I can see in your faces that some of you are interested in retaking Cipra,” Kosai continued as he raised his hand in dominance. The voices in the area began to quiet down. “That’s good of you. Its been the goal of the UHN to keep much of this upcoming operation as secret as possible. We didn’t want this operation spilled out for the enemy to know about. You haven’t been completely left out of the loop, however. Many of you, with the exception of the very few, have already been put through Exercise Awakening Hawk.” By now, the officer walked forward to make it a little easier for Zalika, Bekra, and the others to see him better. “The fact is this has been planned out for almost an entire year. With the help of the T’rintar clan, the UHN finally has a chance to strike back against the Aksren clan. Our goal is to retake Cipra. There will be one group that is going to be pressing forward this entire campaign. It will be all of you,” he pointed to the entire group. “This will include myself and every marine and pilot that the UHN can throw at the Itrean clan. Why? Because we are going to war! It’s time to retake Cipra!”

“Fuck yeah!” a marine responded. There was additional applause in the room, but it was short.

“We all know of the risks. We all follow the orders of the UHN. We all have prepared our training for this possible event. This day will be remembered as we take the fight to the enemy. The Aksren clan didn’t ask who we were. They didn’t ask to be our friend. They took it from us. They want to strip us of our worlds. It’s up to us to go there ... that’s why the UHN gave us the order to carry out this order. The retaking of Cipra is going to be enormous. It will use every transport that we can muster. We are not the only ship that is going into battle. Every marine and pilot will be summoned. I won’t lie to you. Many of you might not come back, but it might be possible that all of us will come back home. The Ciprans didn’t get the choice if the Aksren clan should come to butcher them, and we won’t have the choice to back out on this.”

The screen changed to show Cipra as a series of red dots began to appear. They were in close orbit as they began to move outward.

“At 1100 today,” Kosai said. “The UHN and T’rintar clan are going to attack the Aksren fleet orbiting Cipra. When that happens, the UHN Gladiator and every assault ship will be jumping in behind the enemy fleet. We will charge straight to the planet and deploy every fighter craft, vehicle, and soldier onto the surface. Everything in this ship will be on Cipra.”

Bekra seemed to understand the battle plan very well as she looked at the image of the many new gray dots. They all appeared behind the red dots as they flew into the planet of Cipra. She noted that the marines seemed partially eager of the concept. This didn’t mean that everyone was so willing to go along with it. Her reptilian eyes saw the look of fear. Others didn’t seem bothered about it at all. It was understandable in any way.

The image changed to depict a highlight of the planet Cipra. It began to zoom in till it showed a series of Phalanx assault carriers entering the planet’s atmosphere. Images of explosions were made to help symbolize the possibility of being attacked as these ships would come in to land.

“We won’t spin the truth on you,” Kosai continued. “Exercise Awakening Hawk was to help simulate what was coming. Our ships will be targeted by every form of defense. The T’rintar clan and UHN forces will do everything they can to render assistance and provide cover. The fact is that we are not expecting any reinforcements when we commence our ground assault. Thankfully, the ground defenses of the Aksren clan won’t be that fierce when pressed against the entire ground forces of the UHN. Even the Aksren cannot sustainably fight back against the UHN marine corp without proper fire support from their planetary aircraft and warships. There will be two fronts: space and on the ground. If we cannot take New Hong Kong, then the space forces will not be able to effectively stop the Aksren clan.”