Furnace (Hunter-Killer #1)

Chapter 30 - War is a Game of Two Players

There was an oddly muted feeling in the hangar as Ryke led his pilots into the bay to prepare for deployment. A handful of technicians and engineers still wandered through the bays doing final checks but the desperate surge of repairs seemed to have been completed. A low rumble of engines filled the air and he could make out orders being growled by squadrons already in the process of loading up.

Night-time deployment was an unusual sensation and even though the Scraegans were far beyond the city walls he couldn't shake the feeling that they needed to restrain themselves so as not to give the scheme away. The clatter and clang of the Engineering Cadre teams still reverberated in the edges of his hearing, but even that had taken on a subdued edge. Simply put, he didn't like it. That frantic rush before combat had almost become part of the ritual, something he needed to fire himself up. Right now it felt all wrong.

Trying to ignore the discomfort he felt, Ryke led the remaining members of the squadron to their bay, acutely aware of the empty spaces. With Koral injured and with Calhan's death that day they would be going in undermanned – it was simply too short notice to bring in new pilots into an existing squad.

Squaring his shoulders, he kept his head high doing his best to look confident and awake. Lead by example; it was an old adage that he knew went a long way to bolstering a tired soul. Their Hunter-Killers came into view, being eased from their cradles by the waiting technical staff.

But not all of them.

Taking a deep breath, Ryke turned to face the following pilots, knowing he needed to say something. They all sense it too, not questioning him when he came to a halt. They just formed a loose, expectant semi-circle around him, waiting.

"Okay, people, eyes here," he began simply. "I know you're tired – I know we've had a rough day. It's not the first and it won't be the last." Weary heads nodded and Ryke exhaled heavily. "I know it doesn't feel right, going back out there like this without even stopping to think about Calhan, but there'll be time. We'll remember him with every one of those bastards we send to the River today. I need each and every one of you sharp. Hungry."

"I know we're not at full strength," he continued. "But we're going in anyway. No-one is sitting on the sidelines right now. Each of us is going to have a lot of ground to cover; you've got your new combat pairings so just do what you're trained to do. I don't care if there are five of us, eight, ten or a hundred. The job doesn't change."

"Make it nine!"

He froze for an instant. It took a couple of seconds for his brain to catch up with what he ears already knew. In a sharp motion Ryke twisted around at the sound of the familiar voice, and sure enough, he saw Norville 'Sprocket' Bankspur loping across the hanger towards them, a wry smile on the veteran pilot's face. His face lit up and he jogged over to his companion, shaking him warmly by the hand.

"By the Everflowing, Norv, they cleared you?" Ryke asked in amazement.

"Passed my physicals about... three hours ago," Norville confirmed with a smirk.

"I thought they weren't reassigning on this tight turnaround?"

He shrugged. "They weren't, but I think they made an exception in my case. Seeing as I was part of the squad for a while – you know me. The guys know me. I can slot in better than some rookie."

Ryke nodded. "Well thank the Riverlords for exceptions."

"Besides, I reckon you need every able-bodied pilot you can find right about now."

"You have no idea." Ryke clapped him on the shoulder and motioned towards the Hunter-Killers with a jerk of his head. "Come get geared. We've got a lot of catching up to do."