Magnus
“Alright folk,” Major Oldseal addressed the twenty four members of Green Squadron. Flights one through four sat in their seats in the pilots briefing room of Green Squadron, one of the five briefing rooms on the ‘Greymark’, one for each of the for squadrons that made up the four squadrons of starfighters, and single heavy starfighter squadron.
There were dozens of briefing rooms spread across the Osgar class Heavy Cruiser. The starfighter support staff, mechanics, techs, and others had their own. Infantry units, and the ‘Greymark’s’ own staff all had their own. There were larger ones throughout the ship for larger assemblies, but they were used much more rarely.
“The Captain had orders,” Major Oldseal said. “Commodore Locke has been given the green light, and the ‘Greymark’ is to embark on standard patrol duties along the patrol.”
“Green light for standard patrol duties?” the Lt of third Flight asked.
Major Oldseal sighed. “As you all know, the ‘Greymark’ just went through some major overhauls. At least as major as three weeks in the yards could give her, but thats enough to bring her up to speed with newer ships in the fleet, and we all knew she needed that.”
There were nods, and mutters of agreement from the pilots.
“Not to mention the new gear the Captain was able to get for us, Major Oldseal continued, and there was a louder mutter of approval. “The Starlances, and other gear we got wasn’t all. Equipment through the ship has been replaced, from small arms, to tanks. It’s about time, but now that it’s done, we need to get the cob webs out.”
Major Oldseal looked at the pilots in the room, his eyes bright, and smiled. “Commodore Locke has agreed that as of today, Task Force Delta will fortify Uhtred’s Line, and begin stand patrols along the border, stopping any ship which comes across the border.”
There were gasps, and loud mutters.
“Thats right,” the Major continued. “Uhtred’s Line is to have garrison units setup, and we are being given the go ahead to stop any, and all traffic. I don’t know who’s cock the Commodore had to suck, but the fortifications haven’t been garrisoned since the founding of the Commonwealth. Hell not since the days of the Old Kingdoms, before the arrival of the Great Savage Host.”
“How the hell are eighty Capital starships of the line meant to patrol over a hundred and sixty light years?” Lt Grant of Flight One asked.
There were a chorus of agreements from around the room, but Magnus knew it was a lopsided question.
“Quiet down,” Major Oldseal called out. “Yes yes, Task Force Delta has a limited number of ships of the line, but don’t forget that we can also call on the Commonwealth Fleet of Warwick, or Brighthold,” he said and the room filled with an uproar again.
“Like fuck. When the fuck has the Commonwealth Fleets ever done anything involving fighting?” some asked.
“Shut the fuck up,” the Major shouted back, and the room fell silent. “Enough. Don’t make me repeat myself,” he said with cold eyes and waited a moment before he continued. “Besides the Commonwealth fleets in the sector, we will also have the support of the System-lords along the border,” he said, and eyed the room. Magnus could see the faces on the other pilots, he could read what was going on in their minds. The System-lord were rarely known for aiding anyone outside their own systems.
“Besides those facts, the task force has, another five thousand support starships to aid. Sixty four Escorts, two hundred and fifty six hundred destroyers, over a thousand frigates, and more than four thousand corvettes,” Major Oldseal said as the room began to fill into low grumbles. “Yes, I know, they aren’t ships of the line, and yes, we will be stretched thin, but on top of that we will have the fortications of Uhtred’s Line to rely on, and the raiders from Walhaz are not often larger than our own support starships.”