DISCLAIMER - I do not own Advance Wars or anything copyrightedly relating
to within, which is copyrighted and owned by Nintendo, although I do happen
to like this piece of work I've written and if I ever discover some random
lamer forging it in their name I will be substantially cheesed off, and
nasty letters from me will commence bombardment on said lamer. So don't
even bother stealing it. However, you MAY place this on your website
without my consent should it have an Advance Wars fanfiction section. If
that happened and I discovered such a thing has occured, I'd actually be
quite flattered. Thank you, and enjoy.
______________
The Fighters - Part II
By RustyD
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~----~
~Mission Four: The Grace of a Leader~
~----~
So here I am in Blue Moon again, Glenn thought from the cockpit of his fighter jet.
"It hasn't changed much," he said aloud, not realizing that whatever he said automatically went into the ears of his seven comrades.
"Something the matter, Gordon?" Knives' solid voice asked. Gordon coughed slightly, realizing his mistake, and turned his attention back to what he should have been doing: keeping the aircraft level with his wingmates. The eight orange fighter jets had by now crossed over the Blue Moon border with little to no resistance from ground forces. Anti-air units had taken a few potshots at them, but the fighters had been too far out of range for any such attack. However, that mentally told Gordon to expect resistance from the rocket launch pad area.
It ain't gonna be pretty once we get there, he realized. While he was happy to be back in the cockpit of a jet, he didn't want it to end already by getting shot down by some Blue Moon yokel.
"This is your co-Captain speakin'," Tuxedo blabbed into his helmet's radio unit from the jet flying beside Glenn's, "we're, ahhh, about ten thousand feet above ground, that's almost two miles to fall if your wings get shot off, and--"
"You're a nutcase, Tux." Glenn couldn't help but shake his head and smile at the helmeted head of the clown in the other jet. He could even see the crazy fellow turn in his cockpit and give him a hearty wave while laughing like a chicken over the radio. Somehow, though, Glenn felt a little better knowing he was around these people. They'd keep him safe if he did so for them. It was a good exchange.
"Lead has visual on target," the voice of Knives told the Thunderbolts. Gordon snapped back to attention and looked out into the distant horizon, towards where a group of mountains were nestled. Even in the cockpit of his orange fighter, he could see a small populated area. It was, presumably, the Blue Moon rocket launcher pad that they were to take control of - or if needbe, destroy.
In the fighter leading the eight orange fighter jets, Knives flipped a few switches and pressed a button or two on his flight console. "Ready armaments, set weapons to missiles."
Glenn and the rest of the Thunderbolts did so, arming the fighters and overall preparing them for action. While they were still a considerable distance from the rocket launch area, preparation was still a good idea nevertheless, however far away they may have been. If they weren't prepared when they began to dive their planes, anti-air units could be stationed down on the ground before they even got within close proximity of the launch pad, and then they'd have a real mess on their hands.
"Keep an eye on your radars," the lead said. "Don't get too involved in what you're doing and miss something that pops up."
As much as he didn't want to, Glenn had to listen to everything Knives was saying. It had been the same way in the simulations, even though he'd frequently rebelled against some of the man's orders. Beauregard and the other Thunderbolts had to constantly remind him to put up with Knives, or he'd be punished by the Air Force as they saw fit. Now that he'd gotten the idea, Glenn always just smirked and grumbled whenever Knives gave him a specific order.
"Boggs, LaGall, break off now."
Glenn watched Bubba's and Cassie's plane break away from the main herd and head off in another direction. They would be the look-outs of the horizon while the action down towards the launch pad commenced. "Good luck, guys."
"Thanks, Glenn, you too." Bubba was the only one who responded. Glenn had realized in the past few days that Cassie didn't like him a whole lot, and she had most certainly showed it, too, by generally acting snooty and annoyed with him whenever he was around. She sure seemed to be fond of Tux - and Rainey, to a certain extent - but since Glenn didn't find Cassie interesting enough to even bother trying to be friends with, the general idea was that a brick wall was up between the two of them, and he didn't care in the least. He had more important things to worry about than Cassie LaGall.
Like Rainey Banker, for instance. Over the past few days, he had developed a friendship with her whenever she'd come storming into his and Tux's room after Glenn's hyperactive roomie had strutted off to have a good old merry time with Cass'. They'd end up talking, and Glenn had discovered that she was actually sane, unlike her obnoxious room-mate. He'd even told her a bit about his past and the events that had occured after he was shot down over Blue Moon. Rainey had actually been genuinely interested, the exact opposite of those moronic television reporters who continuously bugged the blazes out of him.
"Were you ever scared?" she had asked him last night before Glenn had fallen asleep. He hadn't quite been able to find a suitable answer, but he eventually realized - or remembered the truth.
"Yeah, I suppose I was," he'd answered tiredly. "Anyone would be, especially during the firefight in the middle of that neutral town."
Rainey had hesitated before her next question. "What was it like to kill those Blue Moon soldiers?"
Glenn had been able to recall his own gunfight in the middle of a coffee house during the battle outside between Orange Star and Blue Moon. He'd luckily had a handgun on him when a Blue Moon soldier had entered the coffee house with a bazooka, and Glenn had taken him down in less than a second. Two other soldiers had entered, and he'd downed one of them, too.
He had realized that he'd never really thought about it. "I was so caught up in everything that was going on, I guess I don't really remember what it was like. I've never given it much thought."
Then, he had thought more about it. He had killed those two soldiers himself. Sure, he'd done it before in a Green Earth jet against enemy Blue Moon fighters, and Orange Star fighters, when Eagle had still been chasing after the Orange Star commanding officer, Andy, but that had been plane against plane. He had killed the soldiers with a gun. Face to face. Whenever he was in a jet and took down another with a missile, he'd never seen the pain in the other pilot's eyes. When he had shot those two Blue Mooners, though, only then, there on the bed in his air base room did he recall the looks on their faces the instant before he pulled the trigger.
Rainey had seen the sudden pain on Glenn's face, and she'd come over and sat down on his bed next to him, and had put her arms around him for comfort.
I really can depend on these people, Glenn thought. I really can. Rainey, Tuxedo, Bubba, all of them. Even Knives, to a certain extent. It was this realization as he sat there in the jet's cockpit going three hundred miles an hour that made him realize how lucky he was to have a leader like Knives.
He puts up with me right back, he realized. Suddenly, he felt very pained for not giving the fellow another chance at friendship, or at least to give and get a little respect from each other, even though Knives had apparently not wanted anything to do with Glenn from the moment they met.
"Dive!" It was Knives' voice again filling his ears. Immediately, unconciously coming back to his bearings, Glenn shoved on his jet's control stoke hard, sending it forward. His jet, along with the five others flying near him, jerked forward, diving down directly towards the launch pad that they had now come within close proximity of. "Keep your eyes and ears open!"
Even in the cockpit of his fighter, Glenn could already see a slew of anti- air units firing up at them, down on the ground on the concrete of the launch base. And there was the rocket, pointed skyward, seemingly oblivious to the sudden gunfire, ignoring everything around it. Glenn knew that if the rocket got its chance, it would blow them all to hell. He remembered that he was here to keep that from happening, and his eyes narrowed as his determination to accomplish their mission grew.
"Spread, Thunderbolts!" Knives' orange jet jerked to its side, swinging off on a different direction, away from the base. The rest of the Thunderbolts did the same, but they stayed two-by-two, the wingmates flying together.
"Stay with me, Tux," Glenn called to his wingmate, "get ready to give them a little ringing in their ears!"
Inside the cockpit of his jet, Tuxedo only smiled underneath his helmet. "I love it when this happens."
Down on the Blue Moon launch base's tarmac, the anti-air unit operators continued firing at the Orange Star jets above, but they quickly realized that two of them were headed directly for the base -- And at well over seven hundred miles an hour. Immediately, most of them came under the assumption that some of their anti-air rounds had made contact, but the outcome would be plum awful for them. "Look out!"
As rapidly as they could, the anti-air operators jumped from their seats, down onto the tarmac, and they bolted from the sitting units like their pants were on fire.
Glenn watched the Blue Mooners scurry like rats, and he chuckled to himself. His gloved hands gripped the stick tighter and pulled backwards, bringing the fighter up. He glanced over to the side, seeing Tux was doing the same. He must have done this before, Glenn realized. That would figure.
The anti-air operators dove forward and covered their fur-hatted heads as the jets would make inevitable contact with the ground.
But nothing came. Some of them blinked in confusion and looked up -- just as the two Orange Star fighters piloted by Glenn Gordon and Tuxedo Ral blew over the launch base at well over eight hundred miles an hour. The sonic boom that followed them shattered the large glass-panel windows on the control center, and also gave everyone in the area a darn good head-and- earache, including the un-ear-protected anti-air operators.
"What in the name of Yellow Comet?" One of the Blue Mooners jumped to his feet, despite his horribly ringing ears. "Get your butts back on those anti-air units!"
That wouldn't be happening anytime soon. Most of the other Blue Mooners looked at their leader, with puzzled expressions on their faces, as if they hadn't heard what he'd said.
"Yeehaw!" Glenn pointed his fighter towards the sun, grinning to himself. "Okay, Tux, let's come around again and target the command center so we can get this over with. Lead, do we have permission to do so?"
Knives' voice came through the earpiece in Glenn's helmet instantly. "Permission gr--"
"Incoming aircraft!" It was Cassie's voice. "Incoming aircraft from the north-east! Estimated time of arrival is thirty seconds."
Oh, damn, Glenn thought. They couldn't destroy the command center in that amount of time and high-tail their rear ends out of the area by the time those fighters arrived. This was indeed going to get pretty ugly, no matter how many aircraft were on their way.
He looked down at the little green radar mechanism situated on his fighter's cockpit console. So far, it was just reading the Orange Star aircraft - eight blinking white dots.
But then, just when he'd thought that maybe Cassie was wrong by some freakish accident, two more white dots suddenly appeared on the radar out of nowhere.
Marcus got his message out first. "I've got two new bogeys on radar, lead."
"Cassie," Knives growled from his jet that was by now circling around the launch base while the rest of them worried about what was showing up on their radars, "how many aircraft did you spot?"
There was no mistaking the worried tone in Cassie's voice. "I counted six, Bubba, what about you?"
"Same here, Cass'," Bubba's equally-jittery voice uttered.
Six? That wasn't the normal amount for a Blue Moon squadron. They, like Orange Star, were supposed to have eight fighters at any normal given time. Something here was seriously wrong, and it quickly made Glenn Gordon feel a little more rattled than he should have been. "Tux, come around with me. Get ready to break off if we get a little too close to those bogeys."
"That's a big ten-four, coo-coo-coo!" Tux blabbered into the radio, trying to sound very much like a southern hick cop.
Glenn turned his fighter onto its starboard side and swung around, headed north-east. He could already see the enemy fighters speeding towards the launch pad base like bats with their wings ablaze. He could also by now see the color they were painted.
Yep, he realized, they're Blue Mooners. "Do we have permission to engage, lead?"
He didn't even have to ask. He could already see Knives' jet shooting out towards where the enemy fighters were coming in from. "Affirmative, Gordon. Let's be careful, Thunderbolts."
Rock and roll, Glenn thought.
Pushing the throttle up to full as he leveled out, Glenn watched three of the Blue Moon fighters blow right past his own plane to his left side at a combined speed of fifteen hundred miles per hour. He didn't even want to imagine what would happen if his own plane made physical contact with one of them at such a speed. The other half fighters, being tailed by Cassie and Bubba, shot off to his right, on a more diagonal direction to him.
Cassie and Bubba can keep them shaking in the litter box, Glenn realized. He'd help deal with the other half of the enemy fighters that had gone past him on his left.
"Break to port, Tux!" He less-than-gently moved the yoke to his left, quickly bringing his orange jet onto its side while Tuxedo did the same less than fifty feet from him. The two fighters swung around, Gordon looking up to see if he could get a visual on where the enemy fighters were. Tux's jet was obscuring most of his view of the launch base, but he spotted on Blue Mooner pulling stunts on a Thunderbolt's tail.
He immediately swung the jet back around, but almost regretted doing so. Now the g-forces were really starting to push him around in the seat, and overall giving him as bad a headache as the Blue Mooners down on the ground had.
Oh man, I've gotta get more used to this, he thought. The simulations couldn't account for such a thing like gravity forces pushing one's head to the side like a freight train.
He sent his fighter into a roll that brought him around onto the Blue Mooner's rear end, and he immediately realized that being right there while the enemy fighter chased another Thunderbolt was, while a good idea, not necessarily perfect. If he fired a missile, the Blue Mooner could shimmy and for all he knew the blasted thing would end up hitting the Orange Star fighter, and that'd end someone's day real quick and finish the Blue Mooner's job for him, at that. The same thing could be said if he switched the weapons mechanism over to his fighter's machine guns.
He'd just have to try and scare this guy away. "Let me see if I can get a missile lock on him, Tux, you hang there and keep and eye out for anyone who decides they have a death wish and gets on our tails."
"Go to town," Tuxedo cooly replied.
Glenn activated the missile lock system and a low beeping sound filled his already-noisy cockpit. A small square-shaped block appeared on a console screen, showing him the view of the front of the aircraft. The block swung around on the screen as Glenn carefully maneuvered the fighter around with the yoke. "Come on, stick, damnit."
The block's rapid movements slowed, and when they passed through the image of the Blue Mooner fighter on the screen, it latched onto the enemy, and a continuous beep arose in Glenn's ears. "I've got a lock."
Without hesitation, the Blue Moon fighter in front of him sharply broke off from its objective, and shot off to Glenn's left.
"Hah!" Glenn celebrated, allowing himself to smile for a split second. "You're clear, 'bolt."
"Beg ten-foor, koo-koo-koo," the foreign voice replied, apparently trying to match Tux's clownish way with words, but not being overly-successful at it.
Glenn tried not to grin further in such a crisis, but it couldn't be helped. If Achmed wasn't careful, the Thunderbolts would probably have another loony like Tuxedo on their hands.
Just after the Blue Mooner had broken off from Achmed, Glenn shoved his control stick down hard and to the left. Two Blue Moon fighters flying by each other were making a run towards a block of Thunderbolts, and Glenn hoped to intercept them before they went into decisive action. Tux still hung to Glenn's seven o'clock, just as a wing-mate should have. Glenn felt rather thankful that the crazy-yet-dependable fellow was there, keeping an eye on what was going on around him.
The two Blue Moon fighters blew under Glenn and Tux as the two orange fighters came down upon them.
Damn! He hadn't gotten there in time. Well, he'd just have to go with the flow. Luckily, the angle he was pointed in allowed him to come around right on the Blue Mooner's tails. Neither of them seemed to realize that the Orange Star fighters that had been coming down on them were now hanging on their rear ends, until it was too late.
Glenn switched over to machine guns rather than missiles, as he was too close to risk an explosion directly in front of his own aircraft. Carefully, he put one of the Blue Mooners in his gun sights and pressed the red button on his control stick with his right index finger.
Gunfire tore from his aircraft at the Blue Moon fighter. The other pilot instantly realized what was happening when some of his systems failed due to the damage the powerful bullets from the Orange Star fighter, and he pulled up on his own yoke.
Glenn anticipated this, since the Blue Mooner was directly next to another, and he pulled right on up with the other aircraft as well, still fully firing without signs of slowing down as long as the other craft was hovering there in his sights. In less than three seconds, the blue aircraft was a flaming pile of junk, and was on a direct course towards the ground, but not without presenting an immediate problem for the Orange Star pilot who had taken it apart.
"Damn!" Glenn, despite grimacing slightly in pity of the now-or-soon-to-be- dead Blue Moon pilot, didn't have alot of time to think about options. He shoved his control stick forward hard and to the right, diving almost directly under the flaming wreckage of the Blue Moon fighter, the two aircraft coming within mere feet of each other. Just as this happened, the other Blue Moon aircraft that had beenf lying next to its now-destroyed comrade shot out to its left. It was obscured by the falling wreckage for a moment, and Glenn couldn't instantly get a bead on it as it swung out.
This is a dogfight if I've ever been in one, he thought. "Tux, break to port! Go get him!"
"There's one comin' around on us, Glenn!"
Glenn muttered some unintelligable obscenity towards the random Blue Moon pilot the man spoke of, thankfully not loud enough for his fellow pilots to hear through their intercoms. "Split! Go left!"
Tuxedo did so, shooting off to port while Glenn went to starboard. As he swung around on his right wing, Glenn looked out towards the dogfight occuring just over the launch base. Out of all the aircraft his eyes could have centered on, he chose to watch the Blue Moon fighter staying with Tux like a hyena, matching the Orange Star fighter's rapid, skillful whips and jerks to every which way move for move.
"He's still with you, Tux, I'm comin' around. That guy'll be gone in two shakes in whatever's left of a lambchop's tail."
Bringing his speed down, Glenn started to swing around where Tux was headed, but found himself in the oncoming path of a Blue Moon fighter.
"Whoah!" Not thinking conciously at all about what options were open and what weren't, he went with his instinct and shoved the control stick of his fighter forward. Thankfully, his instinct was correct in its choice. The Blue Mooner didn't pull the same maneuver. Its pilot pulled upwards, blowing right over Glenn's canopy by less than a hundred feet. That had been far too close for comfort.
"Damnit!" The near-collision and the evasive action he'd taken had thrown him off course, away from Tux. "Just hang in there for a bit, let me deal with a few things first."
"Glenn, this ain't no damned stroll through the grass--" Tuxedo, despite a possible death within the next few moments, still sounded fairly carefree and cool. Glenn unconciously envied this aspect of the crazy fool's.
"I know, just hang tight," Gordon interrupted, sending his fighter into a snap-kick onto its side again, rolling once completely to successfully blow past more Blue Moon fighter wreckage with the ground for a destination. He pointed his jet's nose towards a flock of bogeys that were apparently giving Knives a hard time. "See if you can get over here with Knives and this bunch, maybe it'll mix that fly on your tail up a little."
Tuxedo's expression went sour. "What, are you friggin' nuts? You want me to get CLOSER to them?"
"It'll mix him up and give you a better chance of survival, since they'll be busier dodging each other than us!"
Oh hell, Tux thought, rolling his eyes slightly despite the situation, and he ratcheted his jet's throttle up to full, heading in the direction of where their leader was. "Alright, I'm coming, but keep an eye on this buzzard on my butt, alright?"
"Alright, I'll try. Keep coming. Keep giving him a hard time with getting a missile lock, he could get thrown off before you even get there."
Glenn corkscrewed right through the patch of Blue Mooners giving Knives a difficult time, and surprising all of the enemy pilots a good deal. Or at least, he hoped so. He instantly sent his fighter into a roll that would hopefully bring him around on someone's tail. Personally, he just prayed the Blue Mooners would spread out and quit picking on the one guy.
He watched one of them break out and begin to try and come around on him, but the rest still latched onto Knives' back like hornets.
That's strange, Glenn thought. Why are all of these guys targeting just Knives? They'd do better taking us all on.
He continued to stay there, hovering on the tail of the Blue Mooners chasing his leader. He switched his weapons mechanism back over to missiles, and initiated the lock-on sequence. The familiar beeping sound arose as the little square-shaped block on the console screen once again appeared. Carefully, cautiously, Glenn waited until the block took center- stage onto one of the Blue Mooners. He didn't have to worry much about the missile missing, with the aircraft situated behind Knives as they were.
Before the Blue Moon aircraft could shimmy out away from their prey, Glenn pulled the trigger on his yoke. A lone missile shot out from underneath his orange fighter and screamed through the air at a scarily faster speed than the fighters were traveling at. It slammed directly into the underbelly of the Blue Moon fighter it targeted. Glenn could only watch the hideous explosion that followed with a sincere shake of his head.
The talk with Rainey last night had made him feel somewhat enlightened now, even here in the middle of a dogfight like this one. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd start to feel bad for every Blue Mooner he took out like this.
Then he remembered the Blue Moon fighter that had broken off from chasing Knives. "Wait, where's--"
Oh crap, he thought.
The Blue Moon fighter was speeding along almost directly behind him, matching his movements just as Tux's predator was doing. "I've got one on me!"
This was not going good. Every Thunderbolt had his or her hands filled with something, even with the odds being in their favor. No one was free. He'd have to get himself out of this mess, he realized, and do it fast. His eyes continuously flashed from where his fighter was headed and where the Blue Mooner on his tail was. Every time he struggled around in the seat and looked back as well as he could have, the blue fighter jet was still hanging there with him, and this worried Glenn heavily. He could feel his blood pressure rising rapidly. "Someone get this damned weasel off me!"
Then, when Glenn turned in the cockpit once more, he noticed something strange about the enemy fighter chasing him. No, that's not right, that can't be right. But Glenn had perfect eyesight. He had definitely seen some sort of red line running along on the sides of the Blue Moon fighter, and even a picture or two of a hawk on the upper-and-underside of its wings. "What in hell?"
But before he could try and decipher exactly what was so special about this Blue Mooner, his eyes flashed down to the command center after seeing something very abnormal out of their corners.
And his voice became almost hysterical. "The rocket is launching!"
Down on the Blue Moon rocket launch pad, the very underside of the rocket Orange Star was to take control of was beginning to smoke and spark, its normal powering-up phase before launch. The Blue Mooners on the ground were already running to get as far away from the rocket as best they could, most of them jumping in their anti-air units and choosing the method of driving away rather than running away. That would present yet another problem. A few of them were firing up at patches of Orange Star fighters that didn't have a Blue Mooner within dangerous proximity. "We've gotta get outta here, now!"
"No, destroy the command center immediately! People, get down there and blow that thing to hell!" Knives sounded just as frustrated as he did.
Glenn didn't hesitate in the least. He shoved his control stick downwards and in the direction of the launch pad base. He could already see that almost every other Thunderbolt was doing the same, with the lone exception one or two. That didn't matter at the moment, though, he had to destroy that damned command center, even if this buzzard still hung on his tail while he did so.
Tuxedo was also doing the same as Glenn, in the fact that he was breaking speed records while trying to reach the command center and also worrying about someone on his tail.
But then, all of a sudden, the Blue Moon fighter chasing him came up directly next to him. Tux looked over at the craft, puzzled beyond belief. "Well, what in blue blazes is this hombré doing?"
The pilot inside of the Blue Moon aircraft gave him an almost evil wave. Tuxedo felt a cold chill run down his spine as his eyes widened. "The hell?"
Suddenly, the blue fighter broke away from beside him, and tore back upwards. In the heat of the moment, Tux caught the name on the side of the blue jet. Gallow? A strange last name, but hadn't he heard it before?
Then, he realized what was happening.
Oh my God, he thought to himself, staring up towards Knives' fighter and the Blue Moon aircraft descending on it.
Glenn was busy shooting like a bullet towards the command center they had to take out, all the while having with the snake-of-a-pilot on his tail. He grumbled hideously to himself. "Come on, somebody fire!"
He didn't even have to say that. Just after his sentence had finished, a slew of missiles shot out from the orange fighters, directly towards the launch base command center. Even up where he was, Glenn could see people running out of the place like ants, trying to get as far away as possible, but his attention wasn't completely on them. He'd fired one, two, maybe even three missiles himself. He'd been so hysterical, he couldn't even account for how many he had let loose.
The multiplied power of the missiles would prove to be devastating. Each and every one made contact with their intended target. Glenn watched as the Blue Moon launch base command center exploded in a firey inferno with each hit of the missiles, and the rocket began to power down, the smoke coming out from under it ceasing. He allowed himself to smile when he heard cheering come over the radio. "Hahah! Chalk this one up as a victor- -"
"Get your wings back up here, pronto! Get up here IMMEDIATELY!" It was the frantic voice of not Knives, but Tuxedo.
"What?" Suddenly, Glenn remembered the enemy Blue Moon fighters, and he whirled around as best to his ability in his cockpit seat, trying to get a bead on the Blue Mooner that was chasing him. Immediately, he almost swallowed his lungs.
The Blue Mooner wasn't there any more! "Where the hell--"
The sight made him nearly gasp. There they were, all of the remaining Blue Moon fighters, unloading missile after missile on one single Orange Star aircraft. Not taking a half moment to pause, Glenn shoved his control stick as hard as he could to the side, ready to give the Blue Mooners whatever he had left.
But it wouldn't matter. The Blue Moon fighters were already high-tailing it away from the launch base. Glenn felt something tug at his heart inside of him as he watched whatever was left of the Orange Star craft they had pounded descend towards the ground, completely blackened and smoking. Just before it made contact with the ground and again exploded, he turned his head away. He wouldn't see a second of it.
By now, the Blue Moon fighters were out of range for them to pursue. It would only prove to be dangerous for them if they kept on like predators. The further they went into Blue Moon, the lesser chance there was of any of them coming back to Orange Star alive.
"Who was that?" he heard Marcus ask. No one answered. They'd find out soon enough, sooner than any of them would like.
It was nearing five o'clock in the afternoon when Thunderbolt Squadron finally returned to the Washington Air Base. Commander Beauregard was watching the incoming fighters make their landings from the control tower with a set of binoculars.
"So they got back alright," he uttered to the Orange Star operator seated in the chair next to him. "Looks like they're all accounted for."
Wait, he thought. He miscounted.
There were only seven of them returning.
"Damn," he cursed to himself, quickly putting on his commander's cap and stepping out of the room, making haste towards where the pilots would be getting out of their aircraft.
It didn't take long. The Thunderbolts were on the ground quickly enough, though none of them was necessarily anticipating this moment. Each of them looked around confusedly, trying to account for who was present and who wasn't. It only took them seconds to realize who wasn't there.
Glenn was the one who looked around the most. Slowly, he came to the realization that the one who wasn't present was Knives.
At that moment, Beauregard stepped up to them as they all stood there on the tarmac of the base. The expression on his face told them he was just as upset if not more than any of them. But Beauregard had seen such things as this happen before. In fact, he'd seen it all too often.
But this was a blow. Knives was their leader, this was their first mission, this was their first loss. Rebounding from such a hit would not be overly simple. Slowly, he waved his hand, uttering not a word as he motioned for them to follow him inside the base. Most of them did, but one pilot stayed behind.
Glenn Gordon stood there on the tarmac a few moments longer, holding his helmet in his hands, thinking it best to simply stare out into the sunset and the horizon, and reflect for the time being.
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Author Notes:
Not much to say here. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I finished writing it at almost one a.m., and I'm anxious to get it up, so if you see any mistakes, just say, "whoops, there's one," or something, and checkmark it, spit on it, ask it to dance, whatever. In any case, thanks for reading, and I'll get the next chapter out soon, hopefully.
(As for my Black Hole situation, I'm still thinking about it, and I'll make a decision soon. Don't worry about it anymore.)
______________
The Fighters - Part II
By RustyD
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~----~
~Mission Four: The Grace of a Leader~
~----~
So here I am in Blue Moon again, Glenn thought from the cockpit of his fighter jet.
"It hasn't changed much," he said aloud, not realizing that whatever he said automatically went into the ears of his seven comrades.
"Something the matter, Gordon?" Knives' solid voice asked. Gordon coughed slightly, realizing his mistake, and turned his attention back to what he should have been doing: keeping the aircraft level with his wingmates. The eight orange fighter jets had by now crossed over the Blue Moon border with little to no resistance from ground forces. Anti-air units had taken a few potshots at them, but the fighters had been too far out of range for any such attack. However, that mentally told Gordon to expect resistance from the rocket launch pad area.
It ain't gonna be pretty once we get there, he realized. While he was happy to be back in the cockpit of a jet, he didn't want it to end already by getting shot down by some Blue Moon yokel.
"This is your co-Captain speakin'," Tuxedo blabbed into his helmet's radio unit from the jet flying beside Glenn's, "we're, ahhh, about ten thousand feet above ground, that's almost two miles to fall if your wings get shot off, and--"
"You're a nutcase, Tux." Glenn couldn't help but shake his head and smile at the helmeted head of the clown in the other jet. He could even see the crazy fellow turn in his cockpit and give him a hearty wave while laughing like a chicken over the radio. Somehow, though, Glenn felt a little better knowing he was around these people. They'd keep him safe if he did so for them. It was a good exchange.
"Lead has visual on target," the voice of Knives told the Thunderbolts. Gordon snapped back to attention and looked out into the distant horizon, towards where a group of mountains were nestled. Even in the cockpit of his orange fighter, he could see a small populated area. It was, presumably, the Blue Moon rocket launcher pad that they were to take control of - or if needbe, destroy.
In the fighter leading the eight orange fighter jets, Knives flipped a few switches and pressed a button or two on his flight console. "Ready armaments, set weapons to missiles."
Glenn and the rest of the Thunderbolts did so, arming the fighters and overall preparing them for action. While they were still a considerable distance from the rocket launch area, preparation was still a good idea nevertheless, however far away they may have been. If they weren't prepared when they began to dive their planes, anti-air units could be stationed down on the ground before they even got within close proximity of the launch pad, and then they'd have a real mess on their hands.
"Keep an eye on your radars," the lead said. "Don't get too involved in what you're doing and miss something that pops up."
As much as he didn't want to, Glenn had to listen to everything Knives was saying. It had been the same way in the simulations, even though he'd frequently rebelled against some of the man's orders. Beauregard and the other Thunderbolts had to constantly remind him to put up with Knives, or he'd be punished by the Air Force as they saw fit. Now that he'd gotten the idea, Glenn always just smirked and grumbled whenever Knives gave him a specific order.
"Boggs, LaGall, break off now."
Glenn watched Bubba's and Cassie's plane break away from the main herd and head off in another direction. They would be the look-outs of the horizon while the action down towards the launch pad commenced. "Good luck, guys."
"Thanks, Glenn, you too." Bubba was the only one who responded. Glenn had realized in the past few days that Cassie didn't like him a whole lot, and she had most certainly showed it, too, by generally acting snooty and annoyed with him whenever he was around. She sure seemed to be fond of Tux - and Rainey, to a certain extent - but since Glenn didn't find Cassie interesting enough to even bother trying to be friends with, the general idea was that a brick wall was up between the two of them, and he didn't care in the least. He had more important things to worry about than Cassie LaGall.
Like Rainey Banker, for instance. Over the past few days, he had developed a friendship with her whenever she'd come storming into his and Tux's room after Glenn's hyperactive roomie had strutted off to have a good old merry time with Cass'. They'd end up talking, and Glenn had discovered that she was actually sane, unlike her obnoxious room-mate. He'd even told her a bit about his past and the events that had occured after he was shot down over Blue Moon. Rainey had actually been genuinely interested, the exact opposite of those moronic television reporters who continuously bugged the blazes out of him.
"Were you ever scared?" she had asked him last night before Glenn had fallen asleep. He hadn't quite been able to find a suitable answer, but he eventually realized - or remembered the truth.
"Yeah, I suppose I was," he'd answered tiredly. "Anyone would be, especially during the firefight in the middle of that neutral town."
Rainey had hesitated before her next question. "What was it like to kill those Blue Moon soldiers?"
Glenn had been able to recall his own gunfight in the middle of a coffee house during the battle outside between Orange Star and Blue Moon. He'd luckily had a handgun on him when a Blue Moon soldier had entered the coffee house with a bazooka, and Glenn had taken him down in less than a second. Two other soldiers had entered, and he'd downed one of them, too.
He had realized that he'd never really thought about it. "I was so caught up in everything that was going on, I guess I don't really remember what it was like. I've never given it much thought."
Then, he had thought more about it. He had killed those two soldiers himself. Sure, he'd done it before in a Green Earth jet against enemy Blue Moon fighters, and Orange Star fighters, when Eagle had still been chasing after the Orange Star commanding officer, Andy, but that had been plane against plane. He had killed the soldiers with a gun. Face to face. Whenever he was in a jet and took down another with a missile, he'd never seen the pain in the other pilot's eyes. When he had shot those two Blue Mooners, though, only then, there on the bed in his air base room did he recall the looks on their faces the instant before he pulled the trigger.
Rainey had seen the sudden pain on Glenn's face, and she'd come over and sat down on his bed next to him, and had put her arms around him for comfort.
I really can depend on these people, Glenn thought. I really can. Rainey, Tuxedo, Bubba, all of them. Even Knives, to a certain extent. It was this realization as he sat there in the jet's cockpit going three hundred miles an hour that made him realize how lucky he was to have a leader like Knives.
He puts up with me right back, he realized. Suddenly, he felt very pained for not giving the fellow another chance at friendship, or at least to give and get a little respect from each other, even though Knives had apparently not wanted anything to do with Glenn from the moment they met.
"Dive!" It was Knives' voice again filling his ears. Immediately, unconciously coming back to his bearings, Glenn shoved on his jet's control stoke hard, sending it forward. His jet, along with the five others flying near him, jerked forward, diving down directly towards the launch pad that they had now come within close proximity of. "Keep your eyes and ears open!"
Even in the cockpit of his fighter, Glenn could already see a slew of anti- air units firing up at them, down on the ground on the concrete of the launch base. And there was the rocket, pointed skyward, seemingly oblivious to the sudden gunfire, ignoring everything around it. Glenn knew that if the rocket got its chance, it would blow them all to hell. He remembered that he was here to keep that from happening, and his eyes narrowed as his determination to accomplish their mission grew.
"Spread, Thunderbolts!" Knives' orange jet jerked to its side, swinging off on a different direction, away from the base. The rest of the Thunderbolts did the same, but they stayed two-by-two, the wingmates flying together.
"Stay with me, Tux," Glenn called to his wingmate, "get ready to give them a little ringing in their ears!"
Inside the cockpit of his jet, Tuxedo only smiled underneath his helmet. "I love it when this happens."
Down on the Blue Moon launch base's tarmac, the anti-air unit operators continued firing at the Orange Star jets above, but they quickly realized that two of them were headed directly for the base -- And at well over seven hundred miles an hour. Immediately, most of them came under the assumption that some of their anti-air rounds had made contact, but the outcome would be plum awful for them. "Look out!"
As rapidly as they could, the anti-air operators jumped from their seats, down onto the tarmac, and they bolted from the sitting units like their pants were on fire.
Glenn watched the Blue Mooners scurry like rats, and he chuckled to himself. His gloved hands gripped the stick tighter and pulled backwards, bringing the fighter up. He glanced over to the side, seeing Tux was doing the same. He must have done this before, Glenn realized. That would figure.
The anti-air operators dove forward and covered their fur-hatted heads as the jets would make inevitable contact with the ground.
But nothing came. Some of them blinked in confusion and looked up -- just as the two Orange Star fighters piloted by Glenn Gordon and Tuxedo Ral blew over the launch base at well over eight hundred miles an hour. The sonic boom that followed them shattered the large glass-panel windows on the control center, and also gave everyone in the area a darn good head-and- earache, including the un-ear-protected anti-air operators.
"What in the name of Yellow Comet?" One of the Blue Mooners jumped to his feet, despite his horribly ringing ears. "Get your butts back on those anti-air units!"
That wouldn't be happening anytime soon. Most of the other Blue Mooners looked at their leader, with puzzled expressions on their faces, as if they hadn't heard what he'd said.
"Yeehaw!" Glenn pointed his fighter towards the sun, grinning to himself. "Okay, Tux, let's come around again and target the command center so we can get this over with. Lead, do we have permission to do so?"
Knives' voice came through the earpiece in Glenn's helmet instantly. "Permission gr--"
"Incoming aircraft!" It was Cassie's voice. "Incoming aircraft from the north-east! Estimated time of arrival is thirty seconds."
Oh, damn, Glenn thought. They couldn't destroy the command center in that amount of time and high-tail their rear ends out of the area by the time those fighters arrived. This was indeed going to get pretty ugly, no matter how many aircraft were on their way.
He looked down at the little green radar mechanism situated on his fighter's cockpit console. So far, it was just reading the Orange Star aircraft - eight blinking white dots.
But then, just when he'd thought that maybe Cassie was wrong by some freakish accident, two more white dots suddenly appeared on the radar out of nowhere.
Marcus got his message out first. "I've got two new bogeys on radar, lead."
"Cassie," Knives growled from his jet that was by now circling around the launch base while the rest of them worried about what was showing up on their radars, "how many aircraft did you spot?"
There was no mistaking the worried tone in Cassie's voice. "I counted six, Bubba, what about you?"
"Same here, Cass'," Bubba's equally-jittery voice uttered.
Six? That wasn't the normal amount for a Blue Moon squadron. They, like Orange Star, were supposed to have eight fighters at any normal given time. Something here was seriously wrong, and it quickly made Glenn Gordon feel a little more rattled than he should have been. "Tux, come around with me. Get ready to break off if we get a little too close to those bogeys."
"That's a big ten-four, coo-coo-coo!" Tux blabbered into the radio, trying to sound very much like a southern hick cop.
Glenn turned his fighter onto its starboard side and swung around, headed north-east. He could already see the enemy fighters speeding towards the launch pad base like bats with their wings ablaze. He could also by now see the color they were painted.
Yep, he realized, they're Blue Mooners. "Do we have permission to engage, lead?"
He didn't even have to ask. He could already see Knives' jet shooting out towards where the enemy fighters were coming in from. "Affirmative, Gordon. Let's be careful, Thunderbolts."
Rock and roll, Glenn thought.
Pushing the throttle up to full as he leveled out, Glenn watched three of the Blue Moon fighters blow right past his own plane to his left side at a combined speed of fifteen hundred miles per hour. He didn't even want to imagine what would happen if his own plane made physical contact with one of them at such a speed. The other half fighters, being tailed by Cassie and Bubba, shot off to his right, on a more diagonal direction to him.
Cassie and Bubba can keep them shaking in the litter box, Glenn realized. He'd help deal with the other half of the enemy fighters that had gone past him on his left.
"Break to port, Tux!" He less-than-gently moved the yoke to his left, quickly bringing his orange jet onto its side while Tuxedo did the same less than fifty feet from him. The two fighters swung around, Gordon looking up to see if he could get a visual on where the enemy fighters were. Tux's jet was obscuring most of his view of the launch base, but he spotted on Blue Mooner pulling stunts on a Thunderbolt's tail.
He immediately swung the jet back around, but almost regretted doing so. Now the g-forces were really starting to push him around in the seat, and overall giving him as bad a headache as the Blue Mooners down on the ground had.
Oh man, I've gotta get more used to this, he thought. The simulations couldn't account for such a thing like gravity forces pushing one's head to the side like a freight train.
He sent his fighter into a roll that brought him around onto the Blue Mooner's rear end, and he immediately realized that being right there while the enemy fighter chased another Thunderbolt was, while a good idea, not necessarily perfect. If he fired a missile, the Blue Mooner could shimmy and for all he knew the blasted thing would end up hitting the Orange Star fighter, and that'd end someone's day real quick and finish the Blue Mooner's job for him, at that. The same thing could be said if he switched the weapons mechanism over to his fighter's machine guns.
He'd just have to try and scare this guy away. "Let me see if I can get a missile lock on him, Tux, you hang there and keep and eye out for anyone who decides they have a death wish and gets on our tails."
"Go to town," Tuxedo cooly replied.
Glenn activated the missile lock system and a low beeping sound filled his already-noisy cockpit. A small square-shaped block appeared on a console screen, showing him the view of the front of the aircraft. The block swung around on the screen as Glenn carefully maneuvered the fighter around with the yoke. "Come on, stick, damnit."
The block's rapid movements slowed, and when they passed through the image of the Blue Mooner fighter on the screen, it latched onto the enemy, and a continuous beep arose in Glenn's ears. "I've got a lock."
Without hesitation, the Blue Moon fighter in front of him sharply broke off from its objective, and shot off to Glenn's left.
"Hah!" Glenn celebrated, allowing himself to smile for a split second. "You're clear, 'bolt."
"Beg ten-foor, koo-koo-koo," the foreign voice replied, apparently trying to match Tux's clownish way with words, but not being overly-successful at it.
Glenn tried not to grin further in such a crisis, but it couldn't be helped. If Achmed wasn't careful, the Thunderbolts would probably have another loony like Tuxedo on their hands.
Just after the Blue Mooner had broken off from Achmed, Glenn shoved his control stick down hard and to the left. Two Blue Moon fighters flying by each other were making a run towards a block of Thunderbolts, and Glenn hoped to intercept them before they went into decisive action. Tux still hung to Glenn's seven o'clock, just as a wing-mate should have. Glenn felt rather thankful that the crazy-yet-dependable fellow was there, keeping an eye on what was going on around him.
The two Blue Moon fighters blew under Glenn and Tux as the two orange fighters came down upon them.
Damn! He hadn't gotten there in time. Well, he'd just have to go with the flow. Luckily, the angle he was pointed in allowed him to come around right on the Blue Mooner's tails. Neither of them seemed to realize that the Orange Star fighters that had been coming down on them were now hanging on their rear ends, until it was too late.
Glenn switched over to machine guns rather than missiles, as he was too close to risk an explosion directly in front of his own aircraft. Carefully, he put one of the Blue Mooners in his gun sights and pressed the red button on his control stick with his right index finger.
Gunfire tore from his aircraft at the Blue Moon fighter. The other pilot instantly realized what was happening when some of his systems failed due to the damage the powerful bullets from the Orange Star fighter, and he pulled up on his own yoke.
Glenn anticipated this, since the Blue Mooner was directly next to another, and he pulled right on up with the other aircraft as well, still fully firing without signs of slowing down as long as the other craft was hovering there in his sights. In less than three seconds, the blue aircraft was a flaming pile of junk, and was on a direct course towards the ground, but not without presenting an immediate problem for the Orange Star pilot who had taken it apart.
"Damn!" Glenn, despite grimacing slightly in pity of the now-or-soon-to-be- dead Blue Moon pilot, didn't have alot of time to think about options. He shoved his control stick forward hard and to the right, diving almost directly under the flaming wreckage of the Blue Moon fighter, the two aircraft coming within mere feet of each other. Just as this happened, the other Blue Moon aircraft that had beenf lying next to its now-destroyed comrade shot out to its left. It was obscured by the falling wreckage for a moment, and Glenn couldn't instantly get a bead on it as it swung out.
This is a dogfight if I've ever been in one, he thought. "Tux, break to port! Go get him!"
"There's one comin' around on us, Glenn!"
Glenn muttered some unintelligable obscenity towards the random Blue Moon pilot the man spoke of, thankfully not loud enough for his fellow pilots to hear through their intercoms. "Split! Go left!"
Tuxedo did so, shooting off to port while Glenn went to starboard. As he swung around on his right wing, Glenn looked out towards the dogfight occuring just over the launch base. Out of all the aircraft his eyes could have centered on, he chose to watch the Blue Moon fighter staying with Tux like a hyena, matching the Orange Star fighter's rapid, skillful whips and jerks to every which way move for move.
"He's still with you, Tux, I'm comin' around. That guy'll be gone in two shakes in whatever's left of a lambchop's tail."
Bringing his speed down, Glenn started to swing around where Tux was headed, but found himself in the oncoming path of a Blue Moon fighter.
"Whoah!" Not thinking conciously at all about what options were open and what weren't, he went with his instinct and shoved the control stick of his fighter forward. Thankfully, his instinct was correct in its choice. The Blue Mooner didn't pull the same maneuver. Its pilot pulled upwards, blowing right over Glenn's canopy by less than a hundred feet. That had been far too close for comfort.
"Damnit!" The near-collision and the evasive action he'd taken had thrown him off course, away from Tux. "Just hang in there for a bit, let me deal with a few things first."
"Glenn, this ain't no damned stroll through the grass--" Tuxedo, despite a possible death within the next few moments, still sounded fairly carefree and cool. Glenn unconciously envied this aspect of the crazy fool's.
"I know, just hang tight," Gordon interrupted, sending his fighter into a snap-kick onto its side again, rolling once completely to successfully blow past more Blue Moon fighter wreckage with the ground for a destination. He pointed his jet's nose towards a flock of bogeys that were apparently giving Knives a hard time. "See if you can get over here with Knives and this bunch, maybe it'll mix that fly on your tail up a little."
Tuxedo's expression went sour. "What, are you friggin' nuts? You want me to get CLOSER to them?"
"It'll mix him up and give you a better chance of survival, since they'll be busier dodging each other than us!"
Oh hell, Tux thought, rolling his eyes slightly despite the situation, and he ratcheted his jet's throttle up to full, heading in the direction of where their leader was. "Alright, I'm coming, but keep an eye on this buzzard on my butt, alright?"
"Alright, I'll try. Keep coming. Keep giving him a hard time with getting a missile lock, he could get thrown off before you even get there."
Glenn corkscrewed right through the patch of Blue Mooners giving Knives a difficult time, and surprising all of the enemy pilots a good deal. Or at least, he hoped so. He instantly sent his fighter into a roll that would hopefully bring him around on someone's tail. Personally, he just prayed the Blue Mooners would spread out and quit picking on the one guy.
He watched one of them break out and begin to try and come around on him, but the rest still latched onto Knives' back like hornets.
That's strange, Glenn thought. Why are all of these guys targeting just Knives? They'd do better taking us all on.
He continued to stay there, hovering on the tail of the Blue Mooners chasing his leader. He switched his weapons mechanism back over to missiles, and initiated the lock-on sequence. The familiar beeping sound arose as the little square-shaped block on the console screen once again appeared. Carefully, cautiously, Glenn waited until the block took center- stage onto one of the Blue Mooners. He didn't have to worry much about the missile missing, with the aircraft situated behind Knives as they were.
Before the Blue Moon aircraft could shimmy out away from their prey, Glenn pulled the trigger on his yoke. A lone missile shot out from underneath his orange fighter and screamed through the air at a scarily faster speed than the fighters were traveling at. It slammed directly into the underbelly of the Blue Moon fighter it targeted. Glenn could only watch the hideous explosion that followed with a sincere shake of his head.
The talk with Rainey last night had made him feel somewhat enlightened now, even here in the middle of a dogfight like this one. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd start to feel bad for every Blue Mooner he took out like this.
Then he remembered the Blue Moon fighter that had broken off from chasing Knives. "Wait, where's--"
Oh crap, he thought.
The Blue Moon fighter was speeding along almost directly behind him, matching his movements just as Tux's predator was doing. "I've got one on me!"
This was not going good. Every Thunderbolt had his or her hands filled with something, even with the odds being in their favor. No one was free. He'd have to get himself out of this mess, he realized, and do it fast. His eyes continuously flashed from where his fighter was headed and where the Blue Mooner on his tail was. Every time he struggled around in the seat and looked back as well as he could have, the blue fighter jet was still hanging there with him, and this worried Glenn heavily. He could feel his blood pressure rising rapidly. "Someone get this damned weasel off me!"
Then, when Glenn turned in the cockpit once more, he noticed something strange about the enemy fighter chasing him. No, that's not right, that can't be right. But Glenn had perfect eyesight. He had definitely seen some sort of red line running along on the sides of the Blue Moon fighter, and even a picture or two of a hawk on the upper-and-underside of its wings. "What in hell?"
But before he could try and decipher exactly what was so special about this Blue Mooner, his eyes flashed down to the command center after seeing something very abnormal out of their corners.
And his voice became almost hysterical. "The rocket is launching!"
Down on the Blue Moon rocket launch pad, the very underside of the rocket Orange Star was to take control of was beginning to smoke and spark, its normal powering-up phase before launch. The Blue Mooners on the ground were already running to get as far away from the rocket as best they could, most of them jumping in their anti-air units and choosing the method of driving away rather than running away. That would present yet another problem. A few of them were firing up at patches of Orange Star fighters that didn't have a Blue Mooner within dangerous proximity. "We've gotta get outta here, now!"
"No, destroy the command center immediately! People, get down there and blow that thing to hell!" Knives sounded just as frustrated as he did.
Glenn didn't hesitate in the least. He shoved his control stick downwards and in the direction of the launch pad base. He could already see that almost every other Thunderbolt was doing the same, with the lone exception one or two. That didn't matter at the moment, though, he had to destroy that damned command center, even if this buzzard still hung on his tail while he did so.
Tuxedo was also doing the same as Glenn, in the fact that he was breaking speed records while trying to reach the command center and also worrying about someone on his tail.
But then, all of a sudden, the Blue Moon fighter chasing him came up directly next to him. Tux looked over at the craft, puzzled beyond belief. "Well, what in blue blazes is this hombré doing?"
The pilot inside of the Blue Moon aircraft gave him an almost evil wave. Tuxedo felt a cold chill run down his spine as his eyes widened. "The hell?"
Suddenly, the blue fighter broke away from beside him, and tore back upwards. In the heat of the moment, Tux caught the name on the side of the blue jet. Gallow? A strange last name, but hadn't he heard it before?
Then, he realized what was happening.
Oh my God, he thought to himself, staring up towards Knives' fighter and the Blue Moon aircraft descending on it.
Glenn was busy shooting like a bullet towards the command center they had to take out, all the while having with the snake-of-a-pilot on his tail. He grumbled hideously to himself. "Come on, somebody fire!"
He didn't even have to say that. Just after his sentence had finished, a slew of missiles shot out from the orange fighters, directly towards the launch base command center. Even up where he was, Glenn could see people running out of the place like ants, trying to get as far away as possible, but his attention wasn't completely on them. He'd fired one, two, maybe even three missiles himself. He'd been so hysterical, he couldn't even account for how many he had let loose.
The multiplied power of the missiles would prove to be devastating. Each and every one made contact with their intended target. Glenn watched as the Blue Moon launch base command center exploded in a firey inferno with each hit of the missiles, and the rocket began to power down, the smoke coming out from under it ceasing. He allowed himself to smile when he heard cheering come over the radio. "Hahah! Chalk this one up as a victor- -"
"Get your wings back up here, pronto! Get up here IMMEDIATELY!" It was the frantic voice of not Knives, but Tuxedo.
"What?" Suddenly, Glenn remembered the enemy Blue Moon fighters, and he whirled around as best to his ability in his cockpit seat, trying to get a bead on the Blue Mooner that was chasing him. Immediately, he almost swallowed his lungs.
The Blue Mooner wasn't there any more! "Where the hell--"
The sight made him nearly gasp. There they were, all of the remaining Blue Moon fighters, unloading missile after missile on one single Orange Star aircraft. Not taking a half moment to pause, Glenn shoved his control stick as hard as he could to the side, ready to give the Blue Mooners whatever he had left.
But it wouldn't matter. The Blue Moon fighters were already high-tailing it away from the launch base. Glenn felt something tug at his heart inside of him as he watched whatever was left of the Orange Star craft they had pounded descend towards the ground, completely blackened and smoking. Just before it made contact with the ground and again exploded, he turned his head away. He wouldn't see a second of it.
By now, the Blue Moon fighters were out of range for them to pursue. It would only prove to be dangerous for them if they kept on like predators. The further they went into Blue Moon, the lesser chance there was of any of them coming back to Orange Star alive.
"Who was that?" he heard Marcus ask. No one answered. They'd find out soon enough, sooner than any of them would like.
It was nearing five o'clock in the afternoon when Thunderbolt Squadron finally returned to the Washington Air Base. Commander Beauregard was watching the incoming fighters make their landings from the control tower with a set of binoculars.
"So they got back alright," he uttered to the Orange Star operator seated in the chair next to him. "Looks like they're all accounted for."
Wait, he thought. He miscounted.
There were only seven of them returning.
"Damn," he cursed to himself, quickly putting on his commander's cap and stepping out of the room, making haste towards where the pilots would be getting out of their aircraft.
It didn't take long. The Thunderbolts were on the ground quickly enough, though none of them was necessarily anticipating this moment. Each of them looked around confusedly, trying to account for who was present and who wasn't. It only took them seconds to realize who wasn't there.
Glenn was the one who looked around the most. Slowly, he came to the realization that the one who wasn't present was Knives.
At that moment, Beauregard stepped up to them as they all stood there on the tarmac of the base. The expression on his face told them he was just as upset if not more than any of them. But Beauregard had seen such things as this happen before. In fact, he'd seen it all too often.
But this was a blow. Knives was their leader, this was their first mission, this was their first loss. Rebounding from such a hit would not be overly simple. Slowly, he waved his hand, uttering not a word as he motioned for them to follow him inside the base. Most of them did, but one pilot stayed behind.
Glenn Gordon stood there on the tarmac a few moments longer, holding his helmet in his hands, thinking it best to simply stare out into the sunset and the horizon, and reflect for the time being.
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Author Notes:
Not much to say here. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I finished writing it at almost one a.m., and I'm anxious to get it up, so if you see any mistakes, just say, "whoops, there's one," or something, and checkmark it, spit on it, ask it to dance, whatever. In any case, thanks for reading, and I'll get the next chapter out soon, hopefully.
(As for my Black Hole situation, I'm still thinking about it, and I'll make a decision soon. Don't worry about it anymore.)