The Road to Hell

Chapter 15

A month later, the recruits were given a battery of final exams and those that passed Fitch's tests were cleared to join the ranks of the White Sharks. Now that school was out, the real work began. The successful trainees were shipped out to an icy uncharted planet with an extensive underground facility that served as a staging base for the White Sharks. When they were cycled down into the base's hangar and saw the sheer volume of fighters, David's jaw dropped.

Farid, was also taken aback by the display. "Well, Fisher was right; Desrequins definitely has something up his sleeve to even the playing field."

"No kidding," Avery said from up front. "Look at all those fighters; there's got to be thousands of them!"

"I think I recognize the model," Talon said. "They're Boeing Nova–class: two man, multirole fighters. If they aren't Novae then they're a damn good looking knock off."

"Yeah, our longhawks are based on the Nova design," David said. "How the hell did they get their hands on so many new ships this quickly?"

Farid tapped on David's shoulder. "Look over there. You should recognize the markings," he said darkly.

David followed his friend's pointed finger and saw rows of the same fighters, but these were painted differently from the bulk of the others. He zoomed one of the cameras in and confirmed what he already knew. "Federation colours."

"So the Fed bastards are in bed with the terrorist bastards," Tanner remarked from behind them, somewhat surprising everyone as he walked into the cockpit.

"Yeah," David said, "but we're the ones in position to get fucked."

That night, after everyone settled in at the new base, David and the crew ate dinner on the Spectral Hawk and agreed that the Ghosts of Olympus posed a much bigger military threat than they'd imagined. They'd gone into the mission thinking they were dealing with a relatively small group of terrorists just trying to start a social revolution, but it was now clear that Zeus wanted a full-blown armed rebellion, and now it seemed he had the support of the only rival superpower to back him up as well as thousands of followers crazy enough to fight alongside him.

Just before David climbed into his bunk that night, he retrieved the Ascendant Sabre from its case and practiced some basic techniques before putting it back and getting into bed. He couldn't help but wonder how far along Zeus's plan was, and if he could even stop the enigmatic terrorist before it was too late. "No," David murmured to his empty room. "I can't think like that. Not now; not ever."

#

Given David's performance at The Farm, Desrequins decided to kick some more responsibility his way and assigned him to command a squadron of twenty-four fighters. Before he knew it, David almost felt like he was back with the Errant Hawks running the Special Strike Squadron. He implemented a similar drilling regiment, and began teaching his new pilots the formations and attack patterns he and his seraphs used to use. It was easy, familiar work, and it gave David and his crew plenty of time to scope out the base. The only thing that was different now was that despite the familiarity, David didn't bother getting to know any of the other pilots. When he looked at them, he only wanted to see the Enemy. It was hard, because some of them actually seemed like okay people, but David took a page out of Commander Satyana's book and built a wall between him and his men. They were only rungs on the ladder he was using to get to Zeus.

After a full day of trying to teach a complex attack manoeuvre to his mostly under qualified pilots, he went back to his quarters, took a long shower, and was about to finish up some desk work. When he stepped out of his washroom, he saw a woman standing over his desk, examining his things.