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    Star Crusader: Knighthawk Squadron
    Star Crusader: Knighthawk Squadron
    Star Crusader: Knighthawk Squadron
    Ebook294 pages6 hours

    Star Crusader: Knighthawk Squadron

    By Michael G. Thomas

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    About this ebook

    Nate and his friends are expert gamers, and now veteran combat pilots. They have proven their skills by inflicting defeat on the enemy and saving their ship in the process. The passengers and crew regard them as heroes, yet after their violent escape, they are to be sent home to a life of study and boredom. Their ship, ANS Relentless, sets off to join the fleet to embark on a secret operation. A new battle is about to begin, and Nate and his gamers are unwilling to be pushed aside so easily. The dangerous assignment for Relentless is one that will require every pilot onboard to join the fight.

    The Orion Battlegroup assembles under the command of the war hero, Admiral Churchill. Desperate for pilots for the coming fight, Churchill gives Nate's unit their chance. They will reform the defunct Knighthawk Squadron, and join with their comrades in the battle to help their Byotai allies. Churchill's fleet is heads into hostile territory, a place where the enemy will outnumber them ten to one. As Nate climbs into the cockpit of his Bullnose Gunship, he still has no idea of the suicidal risks they are about to take. The Empire has already fallen, and the flames of revolution are spreading fast.

    Books in the Star Crusader series:
    Hero of the Alliance
    Knighthawk Squadron
    Operation Hellfire

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSwordworks Books
    Release dateNov 2, 2015
    ISBN9781911092049
    Star Crusader: Knighthawk Squadron
    Author

    Michael G. Thomas

    Michael G. Thomas, is a writer, martial artist and military historian. He has written books on European martial arts and military history as well as Zombie Survival books and fiction. He is the co-founder of the prestigious Academy of Historical Fencing that teaches traditional armed and unarmed European martial arts. His specialist subject areas are teaching the use of the medieval two handed longsword and the German long knife in both the UK and other parts of Europe.He academic background is as varied as his writing with degrees in Computing, Classical Studies and Machine Learning. In recent years he has undertaken substantial research in the fields of machine learning and artificial intelligence as well as Ancient Greek and Byzantine military history.Michael is currently completing his Champions of the Apocalypse Series and Star Crusades science fiction series.

    Read more from Michael G. Thomas

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    • 5/5
      i never read star crusaders series but i read star wolves but this books series talk about video gamers trap in the intergalactic battlefield they should make a tv series and movies with me and the casts im making a comic books series call star wolves space force the next generation of warriors in the distant galaxy me as star wolf my character but will the new star wolves join the star crusader has an alliance like heroes of the galaxy i want to join the star crusaders please add me cast me and i will call my team star crusaders strike force

    Book preview

    Star Crusader - Michael G. Thomas

    STAR CRUSADER

    KNIGHTHAWK SQUADRON

    By Michael G. Thomas

    Part of the STAR CRUSADES universe

    First Edition

    Copyright © 2015 Michael G. Thomas

    Published by Swordworks Books

    The official Star Crusades website:

    www.starcrusader.com

    The official Facebook Page:

    https://www.facebook.com/starcrusader

    All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

    Smashwords Edition License Notes

    This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

    PREFACE

    The fighter squadrons of the Alliance are the best trained and equipped in the galaxy. Heavy Thunderbolt bombers are capable of crippling capital ships, while the Lightning fighters are masters of dogfights. New technology brings unmanned drones and support fighters to the battlefield in increasing numbers, expanding our capabilities exponentially. It is the duty of every senior pilot to learn them all. Only through training and experience can a pilot truly master their craft, but that is not enough to be a Wing Commander. Leadership and command cannot simply be taught; they must be earned on the battlefield. The day a pilot truly understands the role and abilities of all the assets at their disposal is the day an officer is ready to command a squadron.

    The Wing Commander's Handbook

    The Scouring of Ctenosaura

    14 November 2472

    Imperator Thras II watched the annihilation the Imperial fleet from atop his elaborate throne in silence. He was old, even by Byotai standards, and had ruled for more than a century. Due to his great age, the Emperor's leathery skin had lost much of its colour. The dull red and black markings that once adorned his reptilian skin were now little more than a pale discolouration. He was so pale he might have been mistaken for an Albino. Below him, his officers fought desperately to rally the remaining ships, but only a fool could believe they had any chance in turning the defeat into anything resembling a victory.

    How did it come to this?

    Thras II shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. His people had never been lovers of war, even though they were trained and equipped for when the time came. The Byotai were exemplary engineers and builders, true artisans whose skills were sought throughout the galaxy. Yet for all this, the speed of this revolt left Thras II looking for betrayal in all directions. A day earlier his people had been at peace, but no longer. Word had spread of the mutiny in the Imperial shipyards in a matter of hours. When he opened his eyes, he could see the magnificent shape of the Black Gorgon ahead. Just seeing the famous vessel sent a flutter of admiration through his body. This ancient battlecruiser was second only to the power of his flagship. And yet, as he watched, the ship was pulverised by six other warships. Thras II looked from left to right and called out angrily to his officers.

    Where are my ships? Where is the rest of the fleet?

    None answered, and he turned his eyes back to the last moments of the Black Gorgon. The destruction of a warship is a terrible thing to behold. You are not simply witnessing the last moments of a noble vessel, but also the deaths of hundreds, perhaps even thousands of individuals. It begins with the cracking of the armoured hull, an action similar to the smashing of a shell. The plates are pierced and shattered so that the weaker interior is vulnerable to attack. With the armour gone, there is little left for a ship's captain to do other than fight for the last few, desperate minutes, or to give the order to abandon ship.

    The crew of the seventy-six year old Byotai battlecruiser Vigilance chose to fight, and with that decision they chose the fate of both themselves, and their ship.

    With the loss of the outer armour, a ship was running on borrowed time. Each subsequent penetration would bite deep inside, breaching entire sections and quickly venting them into space. The crew would either be blasted out into space, or would suffocate as the fragile atmosphere vanished in mere seconds. More enemy shells and missiles burst inside, causing additional casualties and damage. Worse were the electrical fires and exploding ammunition stores that spread in a matter of minutes. These superheated fires would gut a ship as effectively as salvos of hardened missiles.

    The fires burned through the shattered hulk of Vigilance, making use of all available fuel to burn. By the time the power core and reactors overloaded, the remaining crew were already inside their lifeboats. All that remained would be of little interest to any but salvage crews and smugglers.

    One by one the ships of both the sides succumbed to the devastation, yet still they fought on to the bitter end, neither side willing to relinquish control of the Ctenosaura Star System. On one side the rebels, a mishmash of groups that shared a common goal, the destruction of the old order. Against them were the few ship’s captains still loyal to the Imperator, and desperately trying to win the day in what was clearly a lost cause.

    This was the first major conflict of the revolution, and it was already proving to be the last gasp of that ancient Empire. For a thousand years the planets of the Trinity Systems had been home to the wealthiest and most significant of the Empire. They supplied the bureaucracy with well-educated officials, as well as cadre of experienced personnel for the fleet. But even they were not spared the ravages of war. War had come to the Trinity, and its violence was beyond comprehension.

    Not even defeat would stop the true loyalists from fighting to the last ship, and that is what dozens of them had done already. Explosions rippled through many of ships on both sides of the battle. Through this sea of destruction came the Imperial flagship. She was the largest vessel in the system, and moved slowly from her position in the second line of warships. The battleship moved into the centre of the massed formation of warships that were embroiled in a bitter close-ranged engagement over the planet. What had been intended as an act of defiance against those that would turn on their masters had quickly turned into the most important battle in the conflict. Every single ship in the Ctenosaura Star System was now engaged in battle, and both sides were fighting for a decisive engagement that would end the conflict before it could spread.

    Target the traitors. Burn them, burn them all!

    It was the voice of the Imperator, and his stern tones spread through the interiors of every single loyalist ship. The Imperial flagship accelerated forwards while countless squadrons of ships circled in never-ending gunnery duels. Kinetic railguns blasted back and forth, missiles and torpedoes left trails behind them that filled the sky. The Red Star was a holy relic among the Byotai people, and as she moved forward, other ships rushed to join her. Some out of desperation, and others in a vain attempt to gain the favour of the Imperator and his entourage. The words of the Imperator continued to boom throughout the remaining ships.

    Fight to the last warrior, to the last ship. Never surrender!

    For all of his foibles, Thras II could never be accused of being a coward. With a single command, he sent his flagship into the deadliest part of the battle. Some ships gained reputations in battle for accomplishing great deeds, others for long service, but none more so than Red Star. This ship had already fought in more than a hundred battles, with a history as long as the Empire itself. Not even the Imperator himself knew its true history from ancient times. The ship moved into a narrow gap that passed between a pair of rebel cruisers.

    Gut them!

    Guns blasted from both flanks of the Red Star. Both enemy ships were riddled with shells, and then they were through and heading directly at six more ships. These were a mixture of different classes, with four of alien design. They began firing at Red Star, but that could not stop her. With her gun ports wide open and her guns active, she continued to fight. Rebel fighters moved in close and were quickly cut down by the myriad of point-defence turrets.

    Thras II watched the impact of his guns on the enemy vessels, and did his best to ignore what was happening elsewhere. There were few still fighting, and those that were able had now moved closer to Red Star. All of them bore the colours and insignia of the Royal household, instantly distinguishing them from the drafted ships brought in from the outer colonies. The remnants of the fleet engaged the enemy as best they could, but with every minute that passed, their numbers diminished.

    My Empire, lost for the sake of wanton greed.

    Even now Thras II could only believe the rebellion was down to greed. He waited deep inside the protection offered by Red Star's thick armour plating and shielded bulkheads. Most of the Imperator's family were there, as well as all of his senior commanders. Here the fate of the Empire would be decided. A pair of guards at the far end of the chamber called out in unison as the tall metallic doors opened, and in walked a single young Byotai, attired in Imperial finery and adored with gold plated armour. Behind a purple cloak hung just centimetres from the ground.

    Prince Kratha approaches.

    The mighty battleship continued to shake from a hundred impacts, but all attention shifted to the arrival of the young noble. Imperator Thras II rose from his throne and extended his arm to point at the new arrival. The last he'd seen of his young relative had been as he led a squadron of fighters in defence of the fleet.

    Prince Kratha. What news do you bring? Why are you not with your squadrons?

    The young noble moved to the first of the steps and continued forward. A volley of gunfire stopped him in his tracks, and he looked back to see a trio of large warships approaching. The view from inside the ancient battleship was awe-inspiring, but the beam of energy cutting one of the ships clean in half left him speechless. The colossal observation window gave him the perfect vantage point to watch the destruction of the vessel.

    My squadrons are gone. I barely made it back here alive. We cannot win, Uncle. This battle is over. The rebels control most of the fleet. They have eyes on this ship.

    He pointed to the Imperator.

    They are coming here to kill you, and all of the Imperial family. After we're gone, the line of succession will be forever lost.

    A junior officer glanced over to the Prince, and for a second their eyes met. Whatever the officer thought, she quickly looked back at her display, not daring to show any outward sign of disrespect or distraction. Prince Kratha shook his head in sadness as he witnessed the distraction of yet another magnificent vessel, the Grand Cruiser Redemption.

    The fleet is burning all around us. All that is left to do is to decide how many more must die.

    Naval engineers created the single vast window so that it was as wide and tall as throne room itself. A thick inner rim gleamed bright gold, and thin, barely perceivable pillars from ceiling to floor to house the shield emitters, in case the transparent material was ever damaged. The view was so wide it was able to show both the Imperial capital world of Ctenosaura Primus to the left, and the bulk of the fleet spread out as far as the eye could see to the right. Prince Kratha turned away from the scene of violence and towards the Imperator. Though young, his words were those of an older nobleman. He had been forced to grow up fast in the last twenty-four hours.

    Uncle. The enemy has broken through the perimeter. There are dropships and landing craft heading for Red Star. I am here to escort you to the lifeboats.

    Another series of explosions ripped through the ship, and this time both of them looked back as a formation of battleships and cruisers moved in. There were now far more enemy vessels in the area, and numerous smaller ships moved around them like shoals of fish. Far off in the distance the flicker of lights around them were the only indications they had now been fighting for more than five hours. This was all that remained of the Byotai home fleet. In a cruel twist of fate, friend had become foe in a matter of hours. The Imperator looked out at his assembled ships from his vast throne and snarled to his nephew.

    We are betrayed, Prince Kratha. Where is my personal guard? Where are my warships?

    Prince Kratha walked quickly along the dark purple carpet towards the gleaming throne. The imperial flagship, Red Star was much more than just a ship to the Byotai. As Prince Kratha neared the seat of Imperial power, he found it difficult to not gaze upon the relics embedded in the thick stone-like walls. Some were prizes given as gifts to the Imperator, but the majority had been taken in battle, and each one now formed part of the massive warship. He moved up the steps with the speed and grace afforded to the young, but the shape of a huge warrior blocked his path. It was one that bore little resemblance to the others on the ship.

    Maximus, move.

    He was the latest in the long line of Imperial champions, and the personal bodyguard of the Imperator. Bigger than the others in both height and girth, Maximus was encased in armour from head to toe and bore a massive two-handed blade across his shoulder. The armour was not his, but a relic as old as the ship, modified to fit the current occupant. The plating was bright gold and covered in pictorial representations of gods, warriors, and monsters from ancient history. Maximus' eyes were the only things that moved, a pair of yellow spheres that were ever vigilant.

    No further.

    The words were cold and bereft of emotion. Prince Kratha hadn't even noticed that the blade was now up in the air and waiting to strike. Nobody was allowed to draw a weapon in the presence of the Imperator, yet this armoured figure appeared immune to any rules. Thras II gave a short wave to the guard. He took a single step to the side and let the young Prince pass.

    Uncle, our own fleet has fallen to a terrible treason. We must leave, now! Regroup to continue the fight. He will be here soon.

    Imperator, Thras II shook his head and placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder. From his position atop his throne, he looked down at his senior officers, each of whom sat in a wide semi-circle facing him. Before each of them was a vast array of curved display units. Dozens of bright flashes marked the gunfire directly ahead. Almost immediately the shells ripped into the thick armour of Red Star, sending vibrations through the hull. Thras II released his grip on his nephew and extended out his arms and nodded towards the fleet.

    This is our domain, one built by our ancestors and protected by my warriors for decades. I will not let these from the gutter steal it from me. We must fight, to the last. The Empire will not fade away with a whimper. If it must end, it will be in glorious battle.

    He lowered his eyes to where General Honorius commanded the battle. He was engrossed in the complexities of the fight, trying desperately to rally the few remaining ships. The General was positioned atop a platform that was lowered a metre down from their Imperator and offset to the side. General Honorius was the senior military commander in the Imperial Fleet, and had taken over after the infamous General Makos left to join the rebels in the Tenth Quadrant. He could manage the entire battle from here, all the while under the watchful eye of the Imperator.

    General, what is our status?

    The General looked back up at him, even as Prince Kratha tried to plead with his uncle.

    Imperator. The Prince is correct. Our position is hopeless. Two thirds of our fleet has been destroyed, run their colours, or joined the rebels. I have brought in all that is left of our reserve to provide a defensive screen, but it is not much. They can hold off the enemy, but not for long.

    The Imperator hissed as he listened to his General.

    Go on.

    The noble figure of General Honorius moved from his position so that he was face-to-face with Imperator Thras II.

    We are outnumbered five to one. The traitors are all around us, and now we have the newly arrived ships of the Star Empire.

    Imperator Thras II laughed at the mention of his rival.

    The Star Empire is a myth, a tale created by those Anicinàbe tribes that can barely manage spaceflight. They are primitives, savages. Nothing more.

    General Honorius sighed and glanced briefly at Prince Kratha.

    In any case, we cannot win this battle today. Either we leave now, or we die aboard this ship.

    The General's eye drifted to his vertical display, and he choked at seeing the news. The aged warrior swallowed quickly and looked back to his master.

    Imperator. Enemy boarding parties have breached the starboard defences. They are inside Red Star.

    Imperator Thras II rose to his feet and called out in a roar that filled the chamber. Not once in his entire life had he ever felt even a little apprehensive of his position at the head of the Empire. His role as head of the Imperial family was a foregone conclusion, and the Empire more stable and resilient to change than any of his neighbours. He called out again, but this time his voice was immediately drowned out by a series of violent thuds shaking the warship to her very core. A guard at the door looked back and shouted up to the Imperator.

    Enemy boarding parties are close. Sealing the chamber.

    Both of the warriors stepped back from the door and activated the defensive mechanism. A glowing red line flowed around the shape of the doors, and then with a sound like a thunderclap, an entire section cracked and fell to the ground. It was a small breach, barely big enough for two warriors to climb through.

    Protect the Imperator!

    The black armour clad personal guards moved from their discreet positions along each flank of the chamber, forming up in a line two deep at the bottom of the steps. They were experienced Byotai warriors, selected from the noblest families, and loyal to a fault. There were fifty of them, wearing standard Imperial heavy armour, but with golden embellishments appropriate to their status. In their arms, they carried thermal pikes, a complex large-calibre two-handed rifle with an integrated lance that extended out a metre from the guns.

    Shield wall! yelled one of their number.

    Each of the guards stepped closer together, creating a wall of armour and flesh in front of the throne. Another loud bang shook the ship, and two more sections of the great chamber's doors broke away, leaving a cloud of dust. Two guards dropped to the ground, killed by unseen assailants, and then they were inside. One after another of the bone-white figures ran inside, moving for the cover offered by the many computer units, seats, and displays.

    Gunfire flashed back and forth as both sides tried to gain the upper hand. The personal guard of the Imperator unleashed a devastating and continuous volley of fire at the breaches, but with every second, their number diminished. Prince Kratha finally leapt at his uncle in a desperate attempt to move him. Before he even made contact, the massive form of Maximus blocked his path and struck him in the face with his fist. The Prince stumbled down the steps and hit the bottom with a thud.

    I will not leave. This ends here, now!

    He looked up at his uncle, a fierce looking Byotai, with his robes flowing and in his hands a bejewelled sword, the weapon of the Imperator. Part of the ceiling cracked, and then from the breaches came down even more of the white clad warriors. Most dropped around the Imperator, surrounding him in a ring of armour and blades. His uncle hacked into them, swinging his blade with the strength of a younger warrior. At his side was Maximus, and with each swing of his sword another warrior fell.

    Uncle!

    Prince Kratha was back on his feet now, and took aim with his exquisitely engraved pistol. It was a double-barrelled affair, the muzzles shaped like the mouth of a serpent. Each time he pulled the trigger, it spat high-velocity slugs at the enemy. The Imperator was completely surrounded, and one managed to strike him to his knees. More attacked, and the leader of the Byotai

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