ROBOTECH
The Ghost Eagles
Written by Industrialis
Re-written by an older and wiser Industrialis.
All references to Robotech © Harmony Gold, Inc.
All original characters and mecha © the author.
- Act 1 -
CHAPTER 1
Clouds of dust rolled over the rocks and sand. The sun was beginning to set on a desolate wasteland that stretched as far as the eye could see. But this place was not like most deserts. It was the color of rust and ashes.
This place had once been a great city.
The Zentraedi had struck it with a maelstrom of turbo-laser fire, weapons that had rained down all the way from outer space. Now it lay in ruin; completely uninhabitable.
But unlike the many other destroyed cities, this land was completely flat. Because a Zentraedi battle cruiser had fallen from the sky and crash landed here. Its engines had exploded, and the shock had flattened the once-green earth like a pancake.
The only difference in the landscape was a gaping, massive groove where the cruiser had touched down. It was wide and deep enough to fit an entire city block, and it extended for many miles.
The crevice ran like a scar across the earth and stopped where the Zentraedi cruiser had finally come to rest.
The cruiser was still there. It was half-buried in the ground, standing up like a skyscraper with its destroyed engines pointing back at the sky. Its hull was like a rotting corpse, torn apart with the bones of its structural supports showing. It would probably remain there forever.
Only a few miles away, the people of New Macross could see the old battle cruiser on the horizon, when the sun went down.
It's been a long time...like it's coming back from the dead.
The clouds broke open and wisped away for the jetfighter beneath them. It rose violently with blasting ramjet engines, a predator from a simpler, long past age.
The F-4 Phantom had flown long before the Robotech Defense Force. Before the nations of the world had combined into the United Global Defense, protected by the amazing technologies of the RDF. Every aspect of the Phantom's design was inferior. It was a heavy, awkward jet that was most effective in air-to-ground attacks. Its tube-like fuselage, dagger wings, and downward-pointed tailfins made the Phantom hard to maneuver. It held a massive payload of bombs and cruise missiles, but had no guns.
This Phantom had no weapons at all; it was totally obsolete. Even its presence in the sky was hard to believe. But it flew, roaring at the point of a long smoke trail. Its dark green camouflage paint made it easily visible over the rocky, barren landscape.
"Delta Base," said the pilot, from behind an old-fashioned respirator attached to his helmet. "This is Dusty One. Checkpoint has been reached."
Roger that, Dusty One, said a voice in his helmet. We'll have you on radar shortly.
"The sooner the better," replied the pilot. "I want out of this thing."
What's wrong, Lieutenant? A little bumpy for you?
He laughed. "Feels like this thing's going to break my back! It's like strapping an engine on a lawn chair!"
Welcome to the 1960's, said the voice. Delta Base out.
The pilot scanned his eyes over the patchy clouds below him. "I'd better get some hazard pay for this crap."
He froze in his place, as three incoming fighters burst from the clouds in the far distance.
"Delta Base!" he shouted. "This is Dusty One! I have three bandits, repeat, three bandits twelve o'clock high! Please confirm!"
There was a short pause, before the base responded.
...Dusty, you're still out of range. You're currently in protected airspace...we're trying to contact the pilots.
The fighters closed in fast. They were small, single-engine jets loaded with missiles. Their blue and white paint scheme made it hard for the pilot to follow their path.
"They're not Veritechs!" he called out. "These things are old! Looks like they're armed!"
All right Dusty, we're confirming that. Keep your present course...
The jets flew in a diamond formation. They dipped from their altitude and flew straight toward the Phantom, pulling up just in time to fly overhead.
"God! They're buzzing me, Delta! Get me some support!"
Hold on, Dusty, we're checking for available patrols...
He could hear the screaming engines chasing him. He turned to see behind the Phantom, but the empty weapons officer's seat was blocking his view.
"Damn this thing! I can't check six! Base, I can't see them but I know they're on my six..."
Red lights flashed on his head-up display. The Phantom was missile-locked. He shouted and pulled into a roll, but the fighter barely responded. It was such a slow maneuver that he felt himself lift off the pilot's seat.
But the lock disappeared. The enemy fighters flew overhead once again, scrambling away from their pattern. Two VF-1 Valkyrie fighters gave chase.
Hang on down there, Dusty One! came a new voice in his radio. We'll shake these guys up for you.
Rick Hunter sat in the Skull One's high-tech cockpit and peered through his helmet visor. One of the bogeys dropped from above him and he nearly flew right past. He quickly throttled down and banked right, finally getting a glimpse of what he was up against.
"They're old U.S. fighters," he said calmly. "Falcons, I think. They'll try to keep us in tight."
That's all they've got going for them, said a reassuring voice; his wingman Max Sterling.
The bogey dove away, and a blue-striped Veritech sped into formation beside him. Its pilot gave a quick salute and throttled the VF-1 into a tight loop.
Rick grinned and armed his missiles. The sound of gunfire rose over his engine growls and he saw the flashes from within the clouds at nine o'clock low. His radar detected the Falcon, locked on and selected "Reaper Cruise Missile" on his main display. Rick flipped the safety lock off of his joystick and fired.
"Skull One, Reaper One!"
The missile disappeared into the haze, and in the distance it flashed to life as a brilliant fireball.
"Confirmed kill!"
Check six, you've got one headed your way!
Rick looked back and saw the Falcon approaching. His "Lock Warning" light began to flash. But he kept his calm, leaned back and hit the throttle hard. The computer locked on to the enemy. He tapped at the display screen without looking. "Auto Lock - Auto Fire" flashed on his HUD.
"Skull One, Reaper Two!"
On the Skull One's right wing, the rack of cruise missiles rotated to face reverse. Another Reaper hissed off the wing, flying with deadly accuracy. It slammed into the Falcon in the glass of its cockpit. The explosion tore through the center of the aging fighter and sent the wings and tail falling away.
"Confirmed kill! Two down! How's our Phantom?"
He swung around to join the F-4. It was holding its present course, untouched. The pilot gave Rick a thumbs-up as he passed.
Bogey Three's on the run, said Max's voice. He drew me away, should I pursue?
"Head back," said Rick. "Our buddy's probably low on fuel..."
A sonic boom shook the air. Rick held his breath and hit the throttle again. His radar showed a fighter coming in from behind, too fast to be another Falcon. His alarm went off immediately. As he looked to his six, he caught view of a Veritech fighter and two incoming missiles.
He released chaff decoys but both missiles were still on his tail. Afterburners blasted him hard into his seat as the Skull hurled itself higher skyward. Rick's hand once again tapped the controls. "Auto Rocket - Manual Fire" showed up onscreen.
Pushing the Skull to maximum thrust, he waited until the missiles began to trail, and he squeezed the trigger. A barrage of swarm rockets flew backward and killed off the missiles.
But the hostile Veritech was still fast approaching. Rick pulled into a loop and swung behind it. "Max!" he called to his wingman. "Looks like these guys have a Valk on their hands. They want us, not the Phantom."
Roger that, en route to assist.
The Veritech was painted light blue, just as the Falcons were, and it blended in as it danced through the clouds. But the powerful blue glow of its engines gave it away and Rick tailed it closely. When the bogey dove left, Rick noticed an elaborate cross painted on its tailfins.
The Freedom Cross, he thought. There's nothing Lynn Kyle can't get a hold of.
He banked left to follow his enemy, but the Valkyrie was no longer in his gunsights. He scrambled to check in every direction, but he had lost visual.
He spotted it. Above and to the right, falling fast with its gun pod blazing. Rick throttled up and missed the gunfire. But it made him a little uneasy.
Looping into a barrel roll, he followed the Valk down and was immediately on its six. He wasted no time; his gun pod blasted in short bursts as he tried to find his mark. But the VF-1 was making a hard target, swinging in and out of his gun sights. Rick released a cruise missile, and it locked in mid-flight. But the Valk shot off a chaff decoy and sent the missile off course.
Rick tightened his eyes. This guy has it together!
His controls lit up like wildfire. Someone had locked onto him, but the Valkyrie was still fleeing. He looked behind him and saw three missiles, only a breath away from his tailfins. The stray Falcon had returned.
Max's Veritech fell from the sky, in Battloid mode and right in Rick's path. Its leg thrusters slowed its descent as it quickly raised its gunpod rifle. A volley of shells flew over Rick's cockpit; he felt the pounding blasts of the missiles exploding, and his heart skipped as he twisted his Veritech over Max's head. Another burst of fire destroyed the Falcon.
"Nice shot, Max!" Rick shouted.
The VF-1 was on another attack run. It dove in from above and to the left, firing its gun wildly. But Rick dropped his throttle and banked hard. The bogey overshot him, and Rick instantly had the stunned pilot's six. He fired his gunpod dead-on, ripping apart the Valkyrie's right engine and snapping off its wing. The wounded fighter poured black smoke as it quickly dove. Its nose disengaged and shot a safe distance away. The pilot ejected from the wreck and pulled his parachute.
Yeah! Nice kill, Rick! Let's meet this guy at the bottom and bring us home a souvenir!
Rick was ready to answer, but his radio interrupted with a frantic message. Skull One! Return to Delta Base immediately! Repeat, return to base immediately!
"Well Max," Rick said, watching the parachute fall. "Guess we've gotta collect our Phantom and head home."
The Veritech fighters caught up with the F-4 Phantom. It didn't take long. The three flew low to avoid radar detection for the rest of the journey back to base, where the Phantom would remain for the rest of its life.