Chapter 1: Battle in Space
Luthien System
26 December 3051
1400 Hours
The peacefulness of space was broken. Several jumpships suddenly materialized at the far reaches of the Luthien system. They looked like metal skeletons floating in space, with large bumps all over them.
The bumps began to move, to float away from the metal skeletons that had carried them across the far reaches of space. Bright lights began to erupt from the bumps and they began to move toward the Black Pearl of the Draconis Combine, Luthien.
Aerospace fighters were launched, creating a screen that looked like so much chaff. They remained close to the dropships, having learned their lesion from previous defeats.
Launch Station for the 7th Luthien Aerospace Wing
Luthien, Phest Military District, Draconis Combine
04 January 3052
0530 Hours
Alarm klaxons went off, waking up the entire complex. People were scrambling around, getting out of bed, getting dressed in their jumpsuits, running out to the barracks to their fighters. The Clans had arrived, that much was certain.
Chu-I Noyu Okota threw himself out of bed at the sound of the alarms. He wiped the sleep from his eyes while they adjusted themselves to the light. He grabbed his jumpsuit and pulled it on as fast as he could. Grabbing his belt, he began running out of the barracks.
By the time he had reached the hangar, he had his belt on and the rest of his uniform straightened out a bit. He mounted the ladder to the cockpit of his SL-15 Slayer aerospace fighter.
Settling himself in the cockpit, he pulled on the last parts of his flight suit, specially designed to help him cope with the Gs he would pull in his Slayer. It had an inbuilt cooling vest so he would not have to worry about heat.
He began plugging in all the connections to his suit to his fighter's computer. He had performed his complex dance so often in his short career that it took him less than thirty seconds to have all the connections in place and locked. He pulled on and locked his flight helmet to the shoulders of this flight suit, to prevent it from flailing around and taking his neck with it.
All locked in and ready to go, Okota began to switch on the Slayer and ready its deadly weapons to kill clanner fighters. He wrapped his hands around the red bar of the reactor switch and pulled it back, locking it in place. The cockpit temperature rose a degree or two as massive amounts of heat were created by the fusion reaction happening only feet away from him. Lights flickered on as power was sent to them. The computer began running self-diagnostics to make sure everything was in order.
The metallic and synthesized voice of the computer spoke through his helmets speakers.
"Slayer 3925232 online. Proceed with voice identification," the computer said.
"Noyu Okota."
"Voiceprint pattern match obtained. Working…"
Okota was always a little nervous when starting up his Slayer. He never wanted to have to deal with the embarrassment of getting stuck in his own fighter if he accidentally tripped the anti-intruder programming.
"Complete initiation sequence"
"The phoenix burns bright and its enemies burn brighter. I am the phoenix."
"Affirmative. Welcome aboard Noyu Okota."
Power was allowed to the weapons systems bringing them online. Data began to scroll across the secondary monitors as sensors came online. A targeting display also made its appearance between him and the view port. It showed a 360-degree view of his surroundings and a 160-degree forward firing arc.
Okota switched on his radio, already locked into the squadron comm channel.
"This is Phoenix 3, reporting 100 operational."
The rest of Phoenix Feather squadron followed soon after with four more 100 operational reports. The last to make an appearance on the comm was Sho-sa Kuro Motoshita, the squadron leader.
"This is Phoenix 1 to all Feathers. Move to launch catapult and prepare for launch. We've got a lot of clanners up there that need removing. Our orders are to let 3rd wing pull their fighters away, then we come in and open up their dropships."
The six Slayers of Phoenix Feather squadron made their way to the launch catapults. Being stationed on a small island brought only one problem to the 7th Aerospace wing; little space for take off and landing. Launch catapults were installed to make take off much easier, and they could be retraced to allow enough space for landings.
Three of the Slayers stopped at the beginning of the catapult launching system, waiting for ground techs to hook the fighters up to the catapult. It was taking them much longer than usual to hook up the fighters when Phoenix 1 spoke on the comm.
"Looks like they're having some trouble with the damn catapult. They didn't say what was wrong but it will take 'em a couple more minutes to sort it out. Sit tight guys, they'll get it working in no time."
Minutes seemed like hours to Okota. Five minutes came and went while he was still sitting in the cockpit of his Slayer aerospace fighter, waiting for the ground techs to fix some problem with the catapult launch system. The 3rd wing was probably already engaged with the Clan fighters in the space above. Who could tell how well they were doing? Too many fighters were engaged up there that no one could tell who was who and who was winning.
Finally, the all clear was given to use the catapult system. The techs had done their job and earned their pay. Three by three the fighters were launched in quick succession, Phoenix Feather squadron in the lead. All in all, with in 15 minutes, all 54 aerospace fighters of the 7th Luthien Aerospace wing were in flight and on their way to attack the clanner dropships burning towards the planet.
Smoke Jaguar Carrier class DropShip Prowler Space around Luthien
04 January 3052
0530 Hours
Star Commander Dillon quietly entered bay 1 of the Prowler. Techs were bustling around, preparing the OmniFighters for launch. The rest of the pilots of the aeroStar were already in the cockpits of their Sabutai OmniFighters.
Dillon walked towards his own Sabutai, positioned nearest to the launch doors. Next to the ladder, sixteen silhouettes shone on the gray paint of the fighter. Dillon smiled slightly to himself when he looked at these. He made a practice of adding color t the silhouettes to depict what Clan, or now House, the fighter he had destroyed had belonged to. Seven of these were Clan in origin, while the other nine were all spheroid.
"I shall add more to this number in this momentous battle," Dillon thought to himself.
He reached his fighter and was about to begin climbing the ladder when he saw a tech wiping something off his fighter around the fuel injection port. He walked around to find the tech trying to remove the residue of a fuel spill from the fuselage of his Sabutai.
"What is this?!" Dillon shouted. "A fuel spill on my fighter? Do you wish me to explode into flames before I even launch?!"
The tech was very startled at Dillon's shouting. He was very young, probably a freebirth tech.
"Freebirth! Get this cleaned up now or I shall see that the next time you make a mistake on any of the fighters under my command, you will be keel hauled by this very DropShip."
Dillon stormed back around the fighter to the ladder. He climbed into the fighter and began hooking himself in. He connected the flight suit into the fighter. He felt the coolant flowing slowly through his inbuilt cooling vest after he connected and locked the coolant tube. He pulled the reactor switch back and locked it in the on position. The computers turned on and began running diagnostics.
The rumble of the 300 rating extra light engine was audible and the slight shiver of the 75-ton fighter was noticeable to Dillon.
The metallic voice of the computer sounded through his helmet, emitted from the headset built into the flight helmet.
"Sabutai 44356XL300 online. Proceed with voice identification, warrior."
"Star Commander Dillon of Clan Smoke Jaguar."
"Voiceprint pattern obtained. Processing…"
Dillon was a little impatient at the computer. It always seemed to take longer for it to process his voiceprint when they were in a combat zone, as if the computer did not wish for him to fight.
"Voiceprint accepted. Complete initiation sequence."
"Jaguar Claws rip apart Jaguar prey."
"Aff. Welcome Star Commander Dillon."
Weapons systems came online. Monitors came online and showed data streaming in from the sensor systems. His radio also came online. He moved and switched on his targeting display.
"Verifying weapon configuration," came the metallic voice again. "Prime configuration accepted and locked. Weapon systems operational."
Dillon did not need to look to know his weapon load out. A gauss rifle and extended range small laser were in the nose of his craft. Twin extended range PPCs and twin large pulse lasers took up each wing while a pair of extended range small lasers covered the rear arc.
"Jaguar Claw star, prepare for launch. We have incoming spheroid fighters. We shall teach them the power of the Smoke Jaguar."
A series of 'affs' came over the radio from the rest of Jaguar Claw aeroStar.
"Prowler, this is Claw One. Requesting clear for launch."
"Claw One, this is Prowler, you are clear for launch. All Claws may proceed to launch bays."
"Aff, Prowler. All Claws, proceed to launch bays."
Within minutes, all ten Sabutai OmniFighters of the Prowler had been launched, along with many other OmniFighters from other Carrier-class DropShips. All in all, two trinaries worth of Clan fighters were deployed as a screen, most of which were heavy and assault class.
Approaching them from Luthien were some fifty, spheroid fighters. His Sabutai's computerbegan to scan the enemy fighters, gaining as much operational data as can be obtained at such a long distance. Most were of medium and heavy classes. Most were Corsairs and Shilones.
"This is Khan Furey, Khan of Clan Smoke Jaguar. Engage all Draconis Combine aerospace fighters. Teach this freebirth scum about the prowess of the Clans."
Sixty Clan fighters, forty Smoke Jaguar and twenty Nova Cat, powered up their fusion engines and pushed forward, ahead of the ships, closing the gap between the two groups of fighters. Over 100 fighters streaked towards each other.
Star Commander Dillon was full of anticipation as the distance was closed. There were plenty of targets for him to sharpen his claws upon. His weapons were fully powered up and ready to destroy some spheroids.
They were almost within weapons range. 1200 meters and closing now. Within seconds, the Clan fighters were close enough to attack. Gauss slugs, PPC and laser bolts, and long-range missiles flew out from the Clan fighters towards the Draconis Combine fighters. One Corsair exploded under the combined fire of three Jaguar Visigoth's.
"The spheroids have proven themselves to not be worthy of the honor of Zellbrigen, we shall crush them like an OmniMech will crush a sapling," Dillon thought to himself.
"Jaguar Claws. Fire at will at any target. Destroy the dezgra scum."
Dillon locked onto an enemy Shilone and fired. Two PPC bolts lashed out along with the pulse of one large pulse laser, followed by the sliver streak of a gauss slug. Both PPCs and the pulse laser slammed into the nose of the fighter, the gauss slug flying over the fighter by a few feet however. Smoke poured forth from the nose of the Shilone. Dillon detected some small explosions around the cockpit, followed by the cockpit section ejecting from the fighter, which flew on for another 200 meters before exploding.
Another Corsair exploded before the freebirths began their counter fire. A Jaguar Sabutai was ripped to shreds by incoming fire from an entire enemy squadron.
The two groups met and began their deadly ballet. They twisted and turned, rose and plummeted among each other, friend and foe alike. Bolts of man-made lighting flew around, melting armor and missing it, slugs of depleted uranium and nickel ferrous streaked past and through fighters, and missiles flew on clouds of fire, exploding upon the backs of craft.
"Point Commander Leslie, you have two Corsairs on you six. Come right two-zero degrees and I shall see them off your tail," Dillon radioed to his wingman.
"Aff, Star Commander. Coming right, two-zero degrees. Leave one of the stravag's for me."
Dillon laughed silently to himself. Leslie certainly had the Jaguar spirit in her. She was fresh from training too, having only been in the invasion force for one year. He would have no quarrel with coupling with her after the conquest of this planet was complete.
Leslie's Sabutai flew over his own, heading to what appeared to be back towards the DropShips. Two Corsairs were following her closely. She adeptly dodged their fire, while returning fire extremely well, as a Clan warrior, especially a Smoke Jaguar, should. Dillon brought his fighter around to follow the two Corsairs.
He fell into line behind one Corsairs. His advanced targeting computer and his natural skill allowed him to lock on within mere seconds. He squeezed the triggers for both PPCs, one large laser and the gauss rifle. Twin blue bolts shot out and sizzled the armor around the Corsair's engine. The pulse laser melted armor off the top of the fuselage and the gauss slug slammed into the back of the right wing. All this damage sent the Corsair out of control and away from the battle.
The other Corsair was closing in on Leslie's Sabutai. Dillon fell back to allow her to kill the freebirth in the Corsair. She pulled up and performed a loop that brought her right behind the confused and amazed pilot of the Corsair. She triggered both PPCs and both pulse lasers, which went searing into the back of the Corsair. The enemies engine flared for a moment and then shut off.
"Ah, a lucky shot to the freebirth's engine. She will make a fine Star Commander, or perhaps even Star Captain one day," Dillon thought to himself as he watched Leslie cripple the Corsair.
Dillon looked down at his secondary monitor to assess the damage done to his Star. Pilot Travis' Sabutai was combat crippled, but he would be able to make it to the Prowler. Pilot Zachary had been killed when his fusion engine had exploded from extensive damage. It was a pity; Zachary was an excellent pilot, with the viciousness of a Jaguar in him. Other than that though, his Star was relatively unhurt. Some armor damage on all fighters except for Pilot Mathew's Sabutai.
"Hrmm, Mathew never seems to take any damage. I will have to review his battle roms from now on to make sure he is not hiding like a cowardly surat."
Dillon then moved his gaze over to check the status of the enemy fighters. Fifty-four had originally attacked them just nine minutes ago. Out of those fifty-four, eleven were destroyed, six more were crippled beyond fighting capability, and three were badly damaged. The other thirty-four were still operational and fighting.
Dillon was about to move his Sabutai back into the fray when he looked at his radar. More targets were incoming. His computer labeled them as Beta One through Beta Fifty-four. A quick scan told him most were heavy and assault class fighters. But something did not seem right. Another quick check told him something he feared very much.
"Jaguar Claw aeroStar! Pull back to the DropShips. All Jaguar fighters! We have another freebirth wing moving to attack the DropShips. I repeat, another spheroid aerospace wing is making for the DropShips!"
With all the Jaguar fighters currently engaged with one aerospace wing, the DropShips were left virtually unguarded. With fifty-four heavy and assault aerospace fighters descending upon them, even their Clan technology would be of little use. The DropShips would be cut to ribbons and the assault lost before it even started.
Dillon maneuvered his fighter back towards the DropShip fleet, and with the remaining seven operational Sabutais of Jaguar Claw aeroStar, began to make his way back to defend the DropShips.
Noyu Okota was full of apprehension as they 7th Aerospace Wing closed with the Clan DropShips. The 3rd had done its job, to pull the Clan fighters away from their DropShips so as to allow the 7th to attack them without the clanners getting in the way.
"Phoenix One to Phoenix Feather Squadron. Our orders are to attack that Overlord-C DropShip and either cripple it or destroy it. Don't let it lock you in its crosshairs or its good-bye pilot. Move fast and make your runs count. Good luck men."
Six Slayers moved to attacking speed, waiting for the moment that they could begin peppering the hull of that DropShip with their auto cannons. The entire 7th aero wing was confident that the 3rd had done their job, for the battle between the clanners and the 3rd was too far away to scan it with sensors to see what was happening.
Okota marked the Overlord-C at Target Alpha and locked it into the Slayer's computer. He checked his weapons status. Auto cannon ready with enough ammo for 20 shots. All medium lasers were ready and functional.
"Okay, all Phoenix Feathers, split into attack pairs and begin evasive maneuver on my mark. We'll be in that DropShips range and I don't want to see my squadron gone in ten seconds of fire. Three, two, one, mark!"
Okota banked to the left with his wingman Jaran. The Overlord commenced its attacks on the Slayers of Phoenix squadron. Naval grade lasers and auto cannon fired, but luckily none hit. Other squadrons began streaking towards different DropShips. All in all, the squadrons of the 7th wing targeted nine Clan DropShips.
It was very intimidating to fly so close to an enemy DropShip in an aerospace fighter. It felt like being in a tin can next to a large metal trashcan. Of course the tin can could travel at amazing speeds and the trash can could easily destroy you if you weren't careful. Phoenix squadron were about to begin their attack runs when a PPC bolt from somewhere behind Okota's Slayer connected with the cockpit of Phoenix One's Slayer. Phoenix One's craft veered to the left and crashed into Phoenix Two, causing them both to lose control and fly off, away from the DropShips, and then explode in a plume of flame.
Okota, stunned with disbelief, checked his radar. Multiple bogies were closing in with the 7th wing. Apparently the 3rd failed to pull the clanners away from the DropShips far enough. Okota tried to swallow but found his mouth dry with fear. The clanners were going to make a visit, and they caught the 7th with their pants down.
Star Commander Dillon targeted the lead Slayer of the nearest enemy squadron. He squeezed the trigger and sent a blue bolt of lighting towards the craft. It connected. It connected better than Dillon could have hoped for. He saw it slam into the cockpit, followed by the Slayer slamming into the craft next to it. They both went tumbling into space and then exploded. Dillon smiled. In his eyes was the gleam of a Jaguar with his prey in sight. Forty-eight Jaguar and Nova Cat fighters screeched forward to defend their DropShips.
The enemies were obviously unprepared that the Clan fighters would come back so soon. Another five of their number were destroyed before any of them made a move to attack the now closing Clan fighters.
The Jaguars and Nova Cats had left their last group of enemies routed and crippled. Of the thirty-four that had remained operation at the time this new wing had made an appearance, now only fifteen remained combat worthy, and then only with major armor damage.
The Clan fighters streaked forward, sending death in the form of lasers, missiles, and auto cannon shells before them. The enemy fighters took more damage in the second wave of fire, but none were destroyed this time. The freebirths began to maneuver in their airborne steeds, even if they were but donkeys compared to their Clan equivalents.
They began making their way towards the Clan fighters, determined to close the gap so that the Clan warriors could not exploit their range advantage. Their return fire was disorganized and ineffective. A little damage to some fighters, but not enough to stop the Clan fighter charge. Dillon's Sabutai was rocked by an auto cannon shells that broke armor apart on his left wing and fuselage.
A beeping announcement pulled Dillon's attention to his weapons monitor. Apparently, one of his pulse lasers had been rendered inoperable by the auto cannon shells.
"Freebirth," he cursed.
He moved his crosshairs over the enemy fighter that had damaged his pulse laser. His computer registered it as a Slayer, but this mattered little to Dillon. His crosshairs turned gold and Dillon squeezed the triggers on his remaining pulse laser, PPCs, and gauss rifle. The gauss slug hit the tip of the Slayer's right wing, shearing off a two-foot long piece of it. The pulse laser also hit the right wing, near the fuselage. One PPC slammed into the left wing and the other into the nose of the spheroid machine.
The machine dipped a meter or two out of formation and then flew back up.
"The pilot must be dazed from my attack. Serves him right for destroying one of my weapons."
The return fire from the Slayer missed wide, the auto cannon missing by well over ten meters from any Clan fighter.
Dillon concentrated on one last salvo before they passed each other. He stared at his crosshairs and waited until they turned gold. The second they did, he triggers another salvo. His last gauss slug slammed into the nose of the Slayer, along with both PPCs. The pulse laser stitched a set of holes across the left side of the fuselage.
The damage must have been worse than it seemed, for the Slayer began to break apart. First the left wing drooped and fell off, to float though the void for all of time. Then the left side of the fuselage's armor began to fall off. Soon armor was falling off the entire Slayer. Time seemed to have slowed down as Dillon watched the Slayer's spectacular demise. An explosion ended the spectacle and sent Dillon back into reality.
Okota recovered from the shock of seeing both his commanding officer and executive officer die together in a fiery plume.
He turned his Slayer to face the new threat posed by the Clan fighters. He kicked his Slayer into maximum thrust, flying towards the clanners. He dropped crosshairs onto a Sabutai fighter and waited for the crosshairs to turn gold. They did, and he sent a steam of depleted uranium shells at the Clan fighter. It ripped across the left wing of the fighter, sending armor chips of into space, and sending up sparks from around the hard-point where a pulse laser was connected.
The reply to his auto cannon was swift and powerful. A gauss slug slammed into his Slayer, along with a pulse laser. The PPCs slammed into the other wing and the nose. Warning klaxons sounded. The gauss slug had ripped off part of his wing and he had lost maneuvering capabilities because of it. The damage had been enough that Okota had seen stars for a moment. When he recovered from his temporary daze, he saw that he was out of position. He pulled his joystick back and flew back into position.
Still slightly dazed, but concentrating hard, Okota returned the fire, but his auto cannon fire went wide.
The Sabutai fired again. The pulse laser stitched holes and burn marks across the left side of his Slayer. The gauss and both PPCs slammed into the nose of the fighter. Warning klaxons sounded. Multiple failures among essential life support systems were failing from the damage. The monitors flickered as power flowing to them came and went. Okota knew he was dead. Power was coming and going, meaning the ejection equipment would not work and he could hear the internal structure of the Slayer creaking and giving way. First one wing broke off, then the armor on the left side. Okota closed his eyes and tried to think as his family as his Slayer exploded.
The Draconis fighters were routed. The Clan fighters chased the Combine fighters for about 1000 meters before breaking off and returning to their respective DropShips. In all, of the 108 Combine fighters of the 3rd and 7th Luthien fighter wings, 52 were destroyed and 35 were crippled beyond repair. The remaining 21 were damaged but operational and retreated back to Luthien.
Of the Clan forces, only eight were destroyed and eight were crippled. All the fighters returned to their respective DropShips for repairs and reloads. They would be ready for combat again by the time the DropShips landed on the 'Black Pearl'.
The battle for the space of Luthien had been fought, and won, by the Clans. This looked very grim for the Combine regiments on Luthien.
My first fanfic. Reviews are greatly appreciated. Please, dont be gentle, I love a good laugh. More to come.