The Honour of the Knights (First Edition) (10 page)

“
Probably a good idea,” Dodds whispered to Enrique, sat next
to him.

Ainsworth studied the podium for a moment, appearing unsure
about how it operated. He pushed a button and then jumped when it
did not do as he had expected: his microphone cutting off and
classical music beginning to stream in through the hall’s
speakers.

“
Oh God, this is going to take hours…” Enrique murmured, as
a befuddled Ainsworth, aided by Mansun, attempted to regain control
of his presentation. There were some stifled chuckles from the
other teams and Dodds wondered what Ainsworth must be like when the
lecture theatre was full.

Ainsworth was a tall, thin-looking man with pasty white skin.
His head was covered in lank, long blond hair that fell just short
of his shoulders. A gold earring sparkled in the light as he turned
his head. Dodds got the impression that he was the sort of man who
had never quite found the strength to sever his ties with his
earlier hedonistic years, even after embarking on what seemed like
quite an illustrious career.

“
I… I’m sorry about that,” Ainsworth said as the music
ceased. “I’m not used to this theatre.” With the presentation back
in his control, Ainsworth pressed the correct buttons on the podium
and the lights began to dim.

Dodds looked over at the other teams as the light level
lowered, seeing that, unlike the
White
Knights
, the other two teams were both
single-sex. Five men and five women were seated together and Dodds
wondered if this was again part of the team selection. Maybe the
Navy wished to discover if a single-sex team was more suited to the
project and its long term goals. But there again, it could just be
pure coincidence.

There
was not one face amongst the team of women that he recognised. One
turned her head in his direction, a contented smile on her face.
She did not meet his eyes, however, and faced back to the front. He
guessed she was doing the same thing that he was: sizing up the
competition. Neither did he recognise any of the men; two
olive-skinned men seated at the end of their row were whispering to
each other.

The
lights didn’t shut off, but instead dipped only to a level in which
they did not drown out the presentation screen at the front. Dodds
hoped that he would not find himself with an elbow in the ribs from
Estelle after falling asleep. He felt as though he was in a warm,
comfortable cinema and he sensed the impending danger, even more so
after such a filling lunch.

“
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Advanced Tactical
Assault Fighter, more commonly known as the ATAF,” Ainsworth began.
“It is the… er… spiritual successor to the standard Tactical
Assault Fighter which you all know so well, though with many
enhancements as… as we are about to see. I’m sure that you will
find the following presentation t-t-to be both very informative and
impressive.”

* * *

The presentation started, the screen showing a sleek, black
starfighter moving against a backdrop of planets, nebulas and
starships. It appeared to be a mixture of
artists
’
impressions and real footage of the fighter, as it weaved its
way around other Confederation starfighters.

There
were no official markings or identifiers on the craft, the black
armour complimented only by silver trims on the wings, fins and
body. Despite being more or less black, the definition of the
fighter was not lost against the inky darkness of space, the armour
catching the light and softly reflecting the environment about
it.

With the introduction over, Ainsworth went on to speak at
length about the new fighter. He was keen to point out that the
ATAF, though descended from, was quite different from its TAF
cousin and was not just “a TAF with more guns”, as he put it. Over
the next two hours, he detailed each and every aspect of the craft,
focusing on enhancements which he thought the pilots would find
most appealing: a HUD that featured a predictive targeting matrix,
allowing the pilot to aim for where their opponent would
be,
rather than where
they
were; an arsenal that was made up of
significantly more powerful armaments than its predecessor; a much
higher acceleration rate and top speed; and a shield generation
unit that was many times more efficient.

The
detail of the each enhancement was accompanied by video footage,
some of it set planet side, the rest in space. Whatever the
backdrop, most involved something exploding in rather dramatic
fashion.

* * *

With his presentation concluded, Ainsworth thanked his
audience and moved away from the podium. No-one had attempted to
ask any questions, but Dodds
noticed that
all around him people were gaping; all that was, with the exception
of Chaz. The big man had sat through most of the presentation with
a deadpan expression on his face, slouched down a little in his
seat and his arms folded across his chest. He didn’t look all that
interested or even impressed at what he was being shown. Dodds
wondered why. At the very least, he would have expected to see a
flicker of curiosity. Maybe he held the same point of view as
Dodds: something about this didn’t look right.

“
Dude, I’m finding this a little hard to
swallow,” Dodds whispered in Enrique’s ear.

“
Which part?”

“
Which part? Well, where do I start? The
bit about the accelerator or that that flimsy-looking crate is
better shielded than most of our carriers.”

“
It’s just the next evolutionary step up,”
Enrique said. “They make these sorts of advancements all the time.
You can bet they’re already working on the successor to that one in
a lab somewhere else, too.”

Dodds
frowned.

“
You’ve gotta admit, those things look
pretty sweet,” Enrique added, with a nod towards the
screen.

“
You know, my Dad has a saying -
Never believe everything you hear, and
only half of what you see
.”

“
I don’t think this is one of those cases,
mate.”

“
Okay, well, imagine this…” Dodds
started.
With all that they had
heard that afternoon, this starfighter, when compared to any other,
was in essence the equivalent of taking an ordinary ground soldier
and strapping a tank cannon to their back. Said soldier would then
be given a belt holding two dozen grenades, before being presented
with two shotguns, two pistols and two machine guns. Not only would
all the added weight be of no consequence to their ability to walk
or otherwise move, nor in any way hinder their performance on the
battlefield, but they would be able to run at the speed of a top
class athlete and survive being shot many, many times before they
were at last brought down.

Dodds
hoped the image of such a man leaping, somersaulting and sprinting
through a torn, urban landscape would look so ludicrous, as to sway
Enrique’s opinion. It didn’t.

“
Questions?” Mansun, having taken to the podium, asked. A
flurry of hands went up, none of which belonged to
Dodds.

“
Yes, you. The young lady in the middle there.” A rather
striking, tall woman with curly blonde hair stood up.

“
First Lieutenant Andrea
Kennedy,
Red
Devils
, sir,” she introduced herself. “I’m
aware that I’m probably about to ask the same question as everyone
else -” she looked around briefly “- but I have to know: how it is
possible that you have managed to outfit a single man starfighter
with a plasma accelerator? I mean, we’re talking about a weapon
that is usually only found on cap ships and orbital defence
platforms; something capable of cleaving a 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.