(A/N: Even if this first chapter seems kind of pointless, red the second one, as tit will explain everything in this one. And, of course, my fingers type faster depending on the number of review I get!)

Going Down in Flames

Chapter 1: Boy Meets Girl

It was here. The imminent end.

He watched as four other pilots simply stepped away, heads bowed, voices broken, close to tears. Another four Bolthawks scrapped. What was becoming of people, when they trashed their own perfectly working machines?

Todd McHuyens grunted to himself and glanced through the window into the hanger, sipping his coffee. Only two Bolthawks left now, and Todd knew one of them was his. The other twenty-two spots were being filled by the newest generation of pilots, these flying Magnacyclones.

"Curse the bloody lot of 'em." Todd thought to himself.

Newer planes meant newer pilots, as 'retraining' seemed to take far too long. It was a shitty theory, but Todd had to agree that once a pilot got adjusted to one flying machine, it became harder to fly another. The bulky, boxlike nature of the Bolthawk, though more heavily armored and able to carry more weapons, seemed inferior to the sleek, birdlike nature of the Magnacyclone.

"They're recycling us like old parts."

Most pilots were indeed recycled into either gritty maintenance or the dank, dark magazines to equip the other craft. Although this was not a fate Todd himself wished, there was one other he would take it for.

"Oi, Todd! What the hell're ya doin' bro?" Todd looked up from the window to look at his little brother, Angus.

Although Angus had never really been that accustomed to the farm work back home, even in his yellow trench-coat uniform, he looked even more like a plow hand, ready to break into a smile at any time.

Todd shrugged, sipping his coffee again and looking back out the window. "It's nothin' Angus. Jus' sayin' goodbye to some ol' friends."

Angus sat down across from his older brother, frowning. "They been recycling those planes fer a half hour now. Don't tell me you've been up here in the mess hall all this time."

Todd shrugged, sipping at his coffee, now completely stone cold. They sat in silence for about ten minutes, watching the clean-up crews finish sweeping up all the loose metal, until the PDA speaker above their heads crackled into life, breaking the murmur of the static that continued over the line, and announced "Attention! Delegates report for launch! Taraakian ships inbound!"

Todd sighed, tipping back his head and gulping the rest of his coffee.

"Well, little bro, that'll be us, now." Angus nodded, still watching the crews. Todd rolled his eyes, slapping Angus' shoulder as he stood up, saying "C'mon, ya little fool. Quit gawkin' the Magnacyclones. Stupid, over-loaded pieces of…"

Todd's grumbles turned to murmuring as he slipped his black steel helmet on, pulling the goggles down over his eyes. Angus quickly hurried to catch up, strapping his own helmet on.

"Bolter Two, ye're clear fer launch. Set pressure to thirty-five hundred PSI for starter. You'll on'y need a small boost."

Todd nodded, aware that the flight operator wouldn't see it, and spoke into the comm link in his oxygen mask. "Roger that, Flight, settin' pressure."

He flicked the dial up with his thumb on the launch control pressure ramp. On the catapult, the pressure in the hose increased substantially, preparing to launch the Bolthawk into open space.

"3…2…1. Bolter Two, ye may now launch."

Todd grinned under the mask, reaching out and flipping up the plastic cover before depressing the launch button with his thumb.

"Launchin'."

His finger released the button, and the catapult released the pressure, causing the ramp to fly forward, pushing the Bolthawk out of the Carrier at a speed of approximately forty miles an hour. Right on the lip of the hanger, Todd punched the ignition button, lighting the hydrogen fuel cell and lifting off from the rampway, out into open space. This was the one part Todd loved the most about launching. The sense of freefall he got from simply drifting there, the acceleration from the thruster dying away right before the engines kicked in. He breathed in deeply, savoring the moment.

Then, the fuel cell connected, and the engines ignited. The Bolthawk slammed forward, throwing Todd backwards into his seat. Raise the landing skids, drop the aero-extensions. Perfect. The wings unfolded, exposing the twin hydrogen powered boosters set under each wing. Once the boosters kicked in, then they were really flying. Swiftly, Todd set the inertia dampeners to a higher pressure, otherwise the force of the acceleration would have smashed him flat against the seat. And now…absolutely perfect.

He opened the comm link to his brother, down in the ball turret on the belly of the craft. "How ya doin' Angus?"

"If you can call being stuffed in a cramped, bulletproof coffin good, then I am so far. It's a good thing I don't have claustrophobia, eh?"

Todd laughed to himself. "Yeah, or else who'd save my arse from the Earth buggers?"

"Good thing I'm down here, then. I don' think I'll be getting any ladies smelling like gunpowder all the time, though."

"Easy, Angus, don't go getting' trigger happy, now. We're just escort. There's no war here yet."

"Roger."

As Todd brought the Bolthawk closer to the Ikazuchi, his comm set crackled again, and he made out the words "All escorts…circle…until further…clear?" Though nearly the entire message was scrambled, Todd still managed to interpret it's meaning, and as he set himself up for the patrol, he adjusted his frequency until the static disappeared.

"Figgers. They can make a space craft that can go fifteen times faster than the speed of sound, yet they can' go ahead an' make a decent comm set. I really loath inventors."

Two hours later, and the talks on board seemed not to have yet come to a conclusion. Hell, they hadn't even started, apparently. Some young fool from Taraak had somehow managed to sneak his way onboard, making a fool of everyone at the opening ceremony for the new Van-Type power suits. Personally, Todd wouldn't have minded a bit. Everything needed some comic relief, but whoever was in charge was setting the kid up for an execution.

"Huh…looks like Taraak is as harsh as its reputation states. We'll be having some trouble getting through now-wait, what?"

He sat up from his relaxed position, his eyes fixed on the scanner. He'd caught a blip, only a momentary flash, on the screen. There it was again!

He keyed the comm link. "Angus, ya see anything out there?"

"I was gonna ask ya the same thing, bro. I just saw something odd. What do ye think it is?"

Before Todd could respond, however, something else flashed again, then smashed itself into the side of the Ikazuchi, detonating with a loud explosion. Todd's gloved hands swiftly gripped the control stick as he swerved around, increasing speed to cut the turn in half.

"This is Bolter Two, calling all Jumael units! We've got visitors!"

All throughout the comm link, there were affirmatives and curses as the other twenty craft in space swerved around to face this new threat, which suddenly seemed to come from all sides. Bright, metallic flashes, sometimes pink, sometimes yellow, and one or two of them blue, kept zipping past, and Todd was still struggling to get his spacecraft to lock onto one. It was no good, the turn was making him bleed speed, and he finally straightened out, bringing his guns sights up on the canopy. Finally, he targeted one that seemed to be leading the charge itself, his thumb digging at the trigger button. Large caliber bullets the size of a man's fist flew out from the four guns mounted along the wings, but the enemy simply dodged the rounds, flipping past as easily as if they were simply darts. Something smashed into the side of his craft, and Todd snarled, finally getting a better control on the speed, and adjusted his flight path to tear after another craft, this one dull pink, and his bullets finally found a mark, ripping the craft apart. Whooping in victory, he swerved around, seeking another target, while from below he heard the hammering of the ball turret as Angus unloaded the twin machine guns on this mysterious enemy.

Taraak was losing, no doubt about it. In fact, they were even so desperate as to keep their craft away from the women that they disconnected the Ikazuchi, separating the large, new boxy section from the older, sleeker section. Todd couldn't really see why, though, until he spotted the enemy fighters entering the hanger. The enemy was already inside.

"Todd, this is bad. I'm readin' a torpedo launch from the new section of the Ikazuchi to the old one. They're gonna blow the thing apart!"

Cursing his slower speed, Todd looked around, but the other Magnacyclones had already gotten clear, and all he could spot of them were the blue streaks of their engines.

"Gotta get closer." He muttered. If they were behind the Ikazuchi when the torpedo detonated, they might be able to use the destruction of the craft as a propellant to get out of there. Better yet...

He swooped down towards the open hangar, ignoring the protests of his brother, and leaned to one side. The enemy would be coming out any second, an he would be ready to vaporise them when they did.

5 seconds to impact. He slowed his speed, ready to hit the boosters once the torpedo exploded.

4 seconds. He bit his lip, trying to keep his breathing slow, so as to not hyperventilate and suck up the oxygen.

3 seconds. He heard Angus grinding his teeth over the cockpit.

2 seconds. His gloves tightened on the stick.

1 second. He closed his eyes, his thumb over the booster button.

Impact.

Then, with a flash and a large explosion, everything disappeared.