The D1 Effect Chapter 17
As told by the F/y 49 pilot, James "Bloodhound" Kirk of Earth
Beta Squadron Lead
"All F/y squadrons report in immidiatly," Alpha leader announced. There was a slight pause.
"Omega lead in."
"Omega 2 in."
"Omega 3 in."
"Mission control, Omega's bogies are set. They are now taking reconnassaince level 2.3," Alpha leader reported back. "Gamma squadron, report in."
"Yea, Gamma lead here. Don't get too picky, my guys are exhausted." Gamma lead said. Alpha lead ignored him.
"Gamma 2 is here. And PLEASE listen to lead."
"Gamma 3 reporting in."
"Mission control, Gamma is set. JDAM and CHAIN missiles are currently being locked on their specific targets. Lambda squadron, report in."
"Lambda lead is here."
"Lambda 2 reporting in."
"It's butt-kicking time! Wait, I mean, Lambda 3 reporting in."
"Don't say unneccesary comments over the comm, Lambda 3. Court marshalling is a very possible punishment under differant circumstances. Mission control, we have Lambda squadron set and ready. We're gonna have them back up Gamma," Alpha leader reported. "Okay, now, Beta and Alpha squadrons report in."
"Beta lead here," I said quickly over the comm.
"Alpha 2 here."
"Beta 2 reporting in."
"Alpha 3 is here."
"Beta 3 here."
"Roger that. Mission control, we are set to proceed with the securing of Fairwinds Uni."
"Affirmitive. Operation Blue Book is now underway. Execute," Mission control ordered. The instant the commander said execute, my hands were gripped around the controls and I was already loading up the JDAM's.
Maybe I should back up a slight bit here. Hello, my full name is Lieutenant James "Bloodhound" Kirk, and I am a full squadron leader of a desegnation team usually called "Beta". Beta is a squadron that performs double ops and diversions for other squadrons like Elipson to successfully destroy enemy supply depots.
I fly a slightly modified F/y 49 fighter-bomber that was constructed soley for the success of the Operation Blue Book. F/y 49's are the latest F/y model spacecraft that were literally just invented to go on the mission. They carry several powerful proton-shift projectiles that can home-in on most craft except maybe the super-cloakers, and twin chaingun cannons mounted below the cockpit of the craft. The F/y 49 resembles the shape of the obsolete F-22, with the notable execptions of shields (obviously) and the standerd anti-atmospheric engines.
Now, you may ask, what the heck is Operation Blue Book? Well, even though I'm a large part of it (squadron commander), I have very little clue. What I do know is that it is about the abolishment of some sort of guerrilla tactics which poses a threat to the existence of the sector's goverment. The Col Fairwinds Uni teaches of a group that performs that weird type of guerrilla warfare, and some operatives have comfirmed that they teach the type of warfare. The operation called for about 900 Tc3's to take over the Col without any lives being taken, while air support (meaning us) destroys turret mounts and provides reconnassaince. The Tc3's would erase the memory from the students of the guerrilla group and the way the fought from the student's minds, and the mission would be a sucess. A pretty good chance of victory, in my opinion.
"Beta squadron, complete action 3.5; the backing up of Omega squadron. Easy stuff, so let's do it right," I said to my 2 squadron members.
"Roger that, lead," came back the voice of Beta 2, George "Hatchet" Pommel. His voice sounded very enthusiastic.
"Omega lead, give me your coordinates," I asked Omega 1.
"Oh, yes. We have 56.34 to 93.29," she relayed back.
"Roger that, Omega leader. Permission to execute escort?"
"Permission granted," she said, allowing us to align near the U2's. The U2's are considered the oldest aircraft still in use. It was first constructed in 1966, and modifications have been to it ever since. They were ideal reconnassaince and spy crafts, which fitted our mission perfectly.
"Engage autopilot," I ordered the F/y's mainstream computer. A light jolt shook the cockpit as the AI autopilot took charge of the craft. A huge stream of data poured onto my viewscreen, which I ignored. The usuall effects of autopilots. I sat back and relaxed, but not before I programmed the computer to wake me up at the instant any sort of danger appeared on the sensors. I fluttered my eyelids, then drifted to sleep.
**********************************
As told by the Megaraptor, Condor Leeroy
Retreat and regroup! They have us for now! Jake barked the command at us. Who was he to say that to me? Oh, right. My makeshift commander. Drat.
"Crrrick!" I warbled in awcknowledgment to his order, parrying a feeble HTH strike by one of the Tc3's. Striking it down and slashing it to pieces, I started to bound off and back to the ridge in which we had started our little adventure. Of course, my mind was yearning for me to forget Jake's order and continue to fight, but no matter how bloodthirsty I was, I was loyal enough to obey a superior commander's orders.
Although the Tc3's are highly dangerous, they are incapable of moving the 40 mph speeds of a megaraptor. In fact, I doubt that the 7 foot tall robots could even top 5 mph. The pack of 6 raptors and the huge sauropod lumbered across to the relative safety of the ridge's rocks. We could demorph there, and then decide what to do.
Coming upon the hill, I was the first one to notice the large amount of aircraft approaching the Uni. Could it be relief support against the Tc3's? I could only guess at the time, but I soon recognized them as the new F/y 49 fighters! And no faction or other goverment had access to them! They had to be relief support!
I was more then wrong. The instant I convinced myself that they were relief support, about 12 of them started to fire the very distinguashable JDAM missiles at the chaingun turrets around the base. They sizzled and exploded in a vast array of colors from the focuing metals that lay in the mounts.
What the heck?! This was the goverment's work? It couldn't be, could it? Only one way to find out if it truely was. I quickly demorphed back to human as soon as I reached the hill and traveled back down to the inferno as my own true self, seeking answers.
Against Jake's orders.
*************************************
As told by the F/y 49 pilot James "Bloodhound" Kirk
Beta Squadron Lead
SkrrEEET! SkrrEEET! The alarm blared it's loud tone into my ear. What?! Oh, yes. The wake up call. God, that was stupid on my part. Best damn dream I'd ever had.
I sleepily opened my eyes and checked the readings on the "danger sensors" as we once called it. Infared showed nothing. Ultravilot showed nothing. Radar showed nothing. EVP (Enhanced visual perception) showed nothing. However, my eyes told me one thing. That there was danger and no one could deny it.
A huge squad of Tc3's instantly blew up below me, and pieces of metal shards were flung into the air, knocking my plane of balance. It couldn't have been an engineered explosion, because the Tc3's have mine-seeking capabilities, so it could only be a JDAM missile or a free-fall explosive.
Yet none of my sensors showed it. Then it hit me, could it have been a super-cloaker? Might have been, but who would have flown it? Fairwinds Uni's military instructers were kept busy in the bunkers below, so it couldn't be any one of them, but who could it be? One of the students? Yea, right. Like a 12-year old would be piloting an X-65a or a B-204.
Which brings me to my next predicament. There were currently 2 super-cloakers in existence, although several more were nearly on the prototype stage. If it was the X-65a, then there wouldn't be that much of a problem. The X-65a was the first super-cloaker to be made that serves mainly as a reconnassaince aircraft. Nothing too special. However, the latest in the Earthen arsenal of bombers, the B-204, would prove an enourmous problem. The B-204 was not only equiped with the super-cloaker technology, but also with not 1, not 2, not 3, not 4, but 5 chaingun turrets all over it's hull, and a huge amount of bombs and JDAM missiles. Realistically, it'd take more than 20 F/y 49's to take one out.
"Omega Lead, we got a super cloaker here, take evasive action and get the heck out of here!" I called.
"Roger that, Beta Lead. Calling off reconnassaince mission," she replied.
I hastily programmed the computer to run several calculations through it basing them on the angle the JDAM missiles hit the Tc3 squad. Hopefully, it would give me a good enough estimate as to where to fire a Z-space sensor sweep to locate the super-cloaker.
"Insufficiant data," the computer replied. Damn. That's not good. I sighed.
Fourtunatly, depending on the way you looked at it, several free-fall proton explosives fell on another Tc3 squad, streaming in about 1600 more calculations to the data screen. Really, really fast, mind you. Again, I told the computer to run a calculation on the data to find the vertex of the projectiles' origin. It took a few moments before the results came back.
"Data analyzed. Autopilot engaged to tilt craft 36.4539 degrees to run sensor sweep. Sensor sweep engaged. Aircraft found. Aircraft's desegnation is an X-65a reconnassaince bomber."
Yes! Phew, better than the B-204. We would have been monkey A's toy (dead meat) if it was. But I still had several problems. What the heck should I do with the plane? I couldn't kill them, that was against the code of conduct number 5.3, so what could we do? Disable it? Contact them? I decided on the latter, but not before resoning with my squadron.
"Betas 2 and 3. Just comfirming contact with enemy desegnation target 1."
"Roger, no prob, Bloodhound," Beta 3 replied.
"Good."
I switched my comm to contact the X-65a not knowing exactly what to expect. Taking in a deep breath, I stated, "Hello, X-65a bomber. It seems that you have been found and are vastly outnumbered and outgunned. If you surrender, we will keep you unharmed and deliver you safely to your base."
There was a pause. "We will comply. But please follow through on your word, kapish?"
"Don't worry, this pilot never breaks his word."
Then I realized something. The voice that had talked back at us was a kid's voice!!! 2 kids were flying a super-cloaker bomber! Hah! What will they think of next?
[Insert half-decent cliff-hanger here]
A/N: Writers block, couldn't spend the neccessary brain cells on thinking up a good cliffhanger ending. The battle concludes in chapter 18 of the D1 Effect!
As told by the F/y 49 pilot, James "Bloodhound" Kirk of Earth
Beta Squadron Lead
"All F/y squadrons report in immidiatly," Alpha leader announced. There was a slight pause.
"Omega lead in."
"Omega 2 in."
"Omega 3 in."
"Mission control, Omega's bogies are set. They are now taking reconnassaince level 2.3," Alpha leader reported back. "Gamma squadron, report in."
"Yea, Gamma lead here. Don't get too picky, my guys are exhausted." Gamma lead said. Alpha lead ignored him.
"Gamma 2 is here. And PLEASE listen to lead."
"Gamma 3 reporting in."
"Mission control, Gamma is set. JDAM and CHAIN missiles are currently being locked on their specific targets. Lambda squadron, report in."
"Lambda lead is here."
"Lambda 2 reporting in."
"It's butt-kicking time! Wait, I mean, Lambda 3 reporting in."
"Don't say unneccesary comments over the comm, Lambda 3. Court marshalling is a very possible punishment under differant circumstances. Mission control, we have Lambda squadron set and ready. We're gonna have them back up Gamma," Alpha leader reported. "Okay, now, Beta and Alpha squadrons report in."
"Beta lead here," I said quickly over the comm.
"Alpha 2 here."
"Beta 2 reporting in."
"Alpha 3 is here."
"Beta 3 here."
"Roger that. Mission control, we are set to proceed with the securing of Fairwinds Uni."
"Affirmitive. Operation Blue Book is now underway. Execute," Mission control ordered. The instant the commander said execute, my hands were gripped around the controls and I was already loading up the JDAM's.
Maybe I should back up a slight bit here. Hello, my full name is Lieutenant James "Bloodhound" Kirk, and I am a full squadron leader of a desegnation team usually called "Beta". Beta is a squadron that performs double ops and diversions for other squadrons like Elipson to successfully destroy enemy supply depots.
I fly a slightly modified F/y 49 fighter-bomber that was constructed soley for the success of the Operation Blue Book. F/y 49's are the latest F/y model spacecraft that were literally just invented to go on the mission. They carry several powerful proton-shift projectiles that can home-in on most craft except maybe the super-cloakers, and twin chaingun cannons mounted below the cockpit of the craft. The F/y 49 resembles the shape of the obsolete F-22, with the notable execptions of shields (obviously) and the standerd anti-atmospheric engines.
Now, you may ask, what the heck is Operation Blue Book? Well, even though I'm a large part of it (squadron commander), I have very little clue. What I do know is that it is about the abolishment of some sort of guerrilla tactics which poses a threat to the existence of the sector's goverment. The Col Fairwinds Uni teaches of a group that performs that weird type of guerrilla warfare, and some operatives have comfirmed that they teach the type of warfare. The operation called for about 900 Tc3's to take over the Col without any lives being taken, while air support (meaning us) destroys turret mounts and provides reconnassaince. The Tc3's would erase the memory from the students of the guerrilla group and the way the fought from the student's minds, and the mission would be a sucess. A pretty good chance of victory, in my opinion.
"Beta squadron, complete action 3.5; the backing up of Omega squadron. Easy stuff, so let's do it right," I said to my 2 squadron members.
"Roger that, lead," came back the voice of Beta 2, George "Hatchet" Pommel. His voice sounded very enthusiastic.
"Omega lead, give me your coordinates," I asked Omega 1.
"Oh, yes. We have 56.34 to 93.29," she relayed back.
"Roger that, Omega leader. Permission to execute escort?"
"Permission granted," she said, allowing us to align near the U2's. The U2's are considered the oldest aircraft still in use. It was first constructed in 1966, and modifications have been to it ever since. They were ideal reconnassaince and spy crafts, which fitted our mission perfectly.
"Engage autopilot," I ordered the F/y's mainstream computer. A light jolt shook the cockpit as the AI autopilot took charge of the craft. A huge stream of data poured onto my viewscreen, which I ignored. The usuall effects of autopilots. I sat back and relaxed, but not before I programmed the computer to wake me up at the instant any sort of danger appeared on the sensors. I fluttered my eyelids, then drifted to sleep.
**********************************
As told by the Megaraptor, Condor Leeroy
Retreat and regroup! They have us for now! Jake barked the command at us. Who was he to say that to me? Oh, right. My makeshift commander. Drat.
"Crrrick!" I warbled in awcknowledgment to his order, parrying a feeble HTH strike by one of the Tc3's. Striking it down and slashing it to pieces, I started to bound off and back to the ridge in which we had started our little adventure. Of course, my mind was yearning for me to forget Jake's order and continue to fight, but no matter how bloodthirsty I was, I was loyal enough to obey a superior commander's orders.
Although the Tc3's are highly dangerous, they are incapable of moving the 40 mph speeds of a megaraptor. In fact, I doubt that the 7 foot tall robots could even top 5 mph. The pack of 6 raptors and the huge sauropod lumbered across to the relative safety of the ridge's rocks. We could demorph there, and then decide what to do.
Coming upon the hill, I was the first one to notice the large amount of aircraft approaching the Uni. Could it be relief support against the Tc3's? I could only guess at the time, but I soon recognized them as the new F/y 49 fighters! And no faction or other goverment had access to them! They had to be relief support!
I was more then wrong. The instant I convinced myself that they were relief support, about 12 of them started to fire the very distinguashable JDAM missiles at the chaingun turrets around the base. They sizzled and exploded in a vast array of colors from the focuing metals that lay in the mounts.
What the heck?! This was the goverment's work? It couldn't be, could it? Only one way to find out if it truely was. I quickly demorphed back to human as soon as I reached the hill and traveled back down to the inferno as my own true self, seeking answers.
Against Jake's orders.
*************************************
As told by the F/y 49 pilot James "Bloodhound" Kirk
Beta Squadron Lead
SkrrEEET! SkrrEEET! The alarm blared it's loud tone into my ear. What?! Oh, yes. The wake up call. God, that was stupid on my part. Best damn dream I'd ever had.
I sleepily opened my eyes and checked the readings on the "danger sensors" as we once called it. Infared showed nothing. Ultravilot showed nothing. Radar showed nothing. EVP (Enhanced visual perception) showed nothing. However, my eyes told me one thing. That there was danger and no one could deny it.
A huge squad of Tc3's instantly blew up below me, and pieces of metal shards were flung into the air, knocking my plane of balance. It couldn't have been an engineered explosion, because the Tc3's have mine-seeking capabilities, so it could only be a JDAM missile or a free-fall explosive.
Yet none of my sensors showed it. Then it hit me, could it have been a super-cloaker? Might have been, but who would have flown it? Fairwinds Uni's military instructers were kept busy in the bunkers below, so it couldn't be any one of them, but who could it be? One of the students? Yea, right. Like a 12-year old would be piloting an X-65a or a B-204.
Which brings me to my next predicament. There were currently 2 super-cloakers in existence, although several more were nearly on the prototype stage. If it was the X-65a, then there wouldn't be that much of a problem. The X-65a was the first super-cloaker to be made that serves mainly as a reconnassaince aircraft. Nothing too special. However, the latest in the Earthen arsenal of bombers, the B-204, would prove an enourmous problem. The B-204 was not only equiped with the super-cloaker technology, but also with not 1, not 2, not 3, not 4, but 5 chaingun turrets all over it's hull, and a huge amount of bombs and JDAM missiles. Realistically, it'd take more than 20 F/y 49's to take one out.
"Omega Lead, we got a super cloaker here, take evasive action and get the heck out of here!" I called.
"Roger that, Beta Lead. Calling off reconnassaince mission," she replied.
I hastily programmed the computer to run several calculations through it basing them on the angle the JDAM missiles hit the Tc3 squad. Hopefully, it would give me a good enough estimate as to where to fire a Z-space sensor sweep to locate the super-cloaker.
"Insufficiant data," the computer replied. Damn. That's not good. I sighed.
Fourtunatly, depending on the way you looked at it, several free-fall proton explosives fell on another Tc3 squad, streaming in about 1600 more calculations to the data screen. Really, really fast, mind you. Again, I told the computer to run a calculation on the data to find the vertex of the projectiles' origin. It took a few moments before the results came back.
"Data analyzed. Autopilot engaged to tilt craft 36.4539 degrees to run sensor sweep. Sensor sweep engaged. Aircraft found. Aircraft's desegnation is an X-65a reconnassaince bomber."
Yes! Phew, better than the B-204. We would have been monkey A's toy (dead meat) if it was. But I still had several problems. What the heck should I do with the plane? I couldn't kill them, that was against the code of conduct number 5.3, so what could we do? Disable it? Contact them? I decided on the latter, but not before resoning with my squadron.
"Betas 2 and 3. Just comfirming contact with enemy desegnation target 1."
"Roger, no prob, Bloodhound," Beta 3 replied.
"Good."
I switched my comm to contact the X-65a not knowing exactly what to expect. Taking in a deep breath, I stated, "Hello, X-65a bomber. It seems that you have been found and are vastly outnumbered and outgunned. If you surrender, we will keep you unharmed and deliver you safely to your base."
There was a pause. "We will comply. But please follow through on your word, kapish?"
"Don't worry, this pilot never breaks his word."
Then I realized something. The voice that had talked back at us was a kid's voice!!! 2 kids were flying a super-cloaker bomber! Hah! What will they think of next?
[Insert half-decent cliff-hanger here]
A/N: Writers block, couldn't spend the neccessary brain cells on thinking up a good cliffhanger ending. The battle concludes in chapter 18 of the D1 Effect!