Okay, just a quick update to this chapter. A little research brought up an issue with the speeds of the various craft so I had to adjust them a little to make this a bit more realistic. All the craft above the Nightmare are supposed to outrun the skinny vessels that have outrun modern fighter jets like the F-15 Raptor, which has an estimated top speed of around 2100 miles an hour. The various craft have had their top speeds adjusted accordingly.
Sonoran Desert, Arizona USA
May 8, 2275
Camp Berk Training Facility
Private log of Sergeant Astrid Hofferson
I suppose I should be grateful that I'm getting the chance that I am, but I can't help but worry that the squad idiot, private Haddock, is going to end up destroying the camp. I expect him to do just that. The man is dangerous to anyone around him without a weapon, if he has one who knows what havoc he could reign. He's a loose cannon that shouldn't even be in the army.
"Welcome to Dragon training lads and lasses. We'll be starting out with the basics and working our way up. There will be lectures on the various machines you will be driving so you'll have to pay close attention." The squad stood lined up in the training facilities arena. Sergeant Hofferson glared at the only member in her squad who was regularly absent, wondering why he had bothered to show up. Major Gobber gave her a glare that told her to pay attention and stop glaring at her squad mate. "Today we'll be starting with the VIKING suit. A mobile weapons platform, or MWP for short. The VIKING suit is simple to operate. Simply wear it. You can carry up to two tons of weapons and ammunition when wearing it, and reach ground speeds of up to forty miles an hour. Standard weaponry placed on the VIKING consists of two Vulcan chainguns, one Mjolnir Missile launcher, and a Freya class grenade launcher. The armor on this suit ranges from two to six inches, and can stop most shells the skinny's throw at us. Yes Tuffnut?" Brad Thorston scratched his head for a moment.
"Um, not to sound discouraging, but if these suits are so good then why haven't we already destroyed every skinny out there?" Major Belch grinned.
"An excellent question! Shows that you're thinking. The truth is that the skinny's have special shells that they lob at these babies. And much of our arsenal can't do more than delay them. That's why we have the Dragon's. And with that we get on to the big stuff. Starting with this little guy." Gobber held up a small droid that appeared similar to a small bird.
"This is the Tactical Elevation Remote Recon and Observation Robot, or TERROR for short. This little fella is our eye in the sky, providing intelligence where we might otherwise be unable to get it. It has a top speed of around fifteen hundred miles per hour, and has no weapons or armor." Astrid looked like she was about to say something, but decided against it. Gobber stepped over to a large aircraft that was thick in the body, but narrowed toward the nose of the craft, splitting into two separate cockpits.
"This is the Z thirty four Heavy bomber, or Zippleback. Thorstons, you'd best pay close attention here, as this is what the two of you are going to be flying." The Thorston twins jaws dropped at exactly the same time, making Hiccup wonder if the two shared brainwaves. Brad was the first to recover.
"You mean we get to fly that thing? Woohoo!"
"Yes Tuffnut, you and your sister get to fly this thing. But you'll have to be careful. After all you'll be trying to fly thirty two hundred pounds of machine here, not to mention up to six tons of explosives inside." Both of the twins stopped celebrating as the weight of their situation struck them. "But don't fret too much. It's going to be hard for all that ordinance to be hit since it's protected by eight inches of armor plate, though it means a top speed of only seventeen hundred MPH. And your air-to-surface and air-to-air defenses aren't that shabby either. Two ball turret Vulcan chainguns, one under each cockpit, four Mjolnir missile launchers, and six Air-to-Surface Missile launchers give you a good chance of getting back home alive. And that's not including the various bombs you'll be carrying." The twins could only stare at the craft they would get to call their own after the training finished. Gobber didn't even blink before launching into the next vehicle.
"Snotlout, this ones yours. The N-1 Firefighter, otherwise known as the Nightmare. This fellow weighs just under nineteen hundred pounds, and can lift up to twice it's weight when it has to. A top speed of four thousand makes this lunker fast enough to chase down most skinny vessels, and the two Vulcans, two Mjolnirs, and it's flamethrower guarantee that any ship you can catch, you can shoot down. It's biggest weak point, only three inches of armor plate." Snotlout, who had been grinning like a fool up to then, paled at the thought of how little armor he really had. Major Belch continued on to the next craft.
"Fishlegs, you get the G twenty eight main battle tank, or the Gronckle MBT. You won't be flying as fast in this thing as the others, as it's more of a hovertank than a fighter. But you have the best protection, and the heaviest weapons. This thing weighs close to two tons and can use it's jets to lift up to eight. You'll have a top ground speed of about eighty miles an hour in the tank, but your air speed is limited to around a thirteen hundred. You'll have sixteen inches of armor, and you're armed with two remote Vulcans, six Mjolnir missile launchers, six Freya class grenade launchers, two sixteen inch mortars, and one main twelve inch cannon." Fishlegs was practically jumping in anticipation of his charge. Gobber gave him a look that told him to tone it down or else, before turning to Astrid.
"Hofferson, you'll be flying the N twelve Rapid Response Fighter, or the Nadder. Don't let the twelve hundred pound frame deceive you, she has to be light, or she won't be fast enough. You've got a top speed of nearly forty five hundred miles per hour at your disposal, and the maneuverability to go with it. You're only carrying six inches of armor so use your agility to avoid the skinny's fire. You're carrying quite a bit of firepower as well, two Berserker Machine guns and two Sliepner missile launchers will help get the job done." Astrid simply nodded, though she was admiring the crafts lines. Gobber turned to Hiccup, a glint in his eye.
"Jason, you get the delicate job. You'll be flying the A seven interceptor, otherwise known as the Night Fury." Astrid turned and stared before speakingup.
"Major, I must protest, Private Haddock is not qualified to even think about flying that sensitive of a craft." Major Belch looked at her.
"Looks like someone has been doing their homework. And I must disagree with your assessment of the privates skills. He's ideal for the job. Jason, the Night Fury is the best craft for someone like you. Fast reflexes, sharp eye, flexible way of thinking, It'll come in handy that you're aggressive too. You'll be flying nine hundred pounds of craft, along with up to six thousand pound of ordinance, to speeds of up to six thousand MPH. You'll sport six inches of armor, but that's not your asset, nor is taking hits the point of the A seven. The craft is the most maneuverable of all of them, as well as being the fastest. It sports two Wolfshirt class machine guns, two Nightraid class missile launchers, and a Fenrir cannon. All of these are silent, and powerful. You're the squads assassin. Its silent striker. You'll be delivering the precision blows. I know you can do it." Hiccup straightened up.
"I'll do my best sir." Gobber grinned widely at him before slapping him on the shoulder.
"Good lad, alright, all of you to your respective simulators." Hiccup gave the pitch black, sleek craft that was to be his one last look before heading to the simulator room.
Okay, you can resume reading for enjoyment. I am going to start putting the diagnostics for each craft at the end of the chapters. If you think this is an unwanted embellishment then please say so in a review.
