Chapter 11; Sacrifices in the sky

"Diagnostics… online and functional within normal operating parameters. Further status reports will be accurate." A soldier named Rovek said into his radio, sitting in the cockpit of his fighter.

"Hull integrity… optimal."

"Fuel status… at capacity."

"Primary engines… check."

"Navigational and landing thrusters… check."

"Primary and secondary flaps… check."

"Life-support systems… check."

"Scanner systems… check."

"Flight control systems… check."

"Weapons… loaded and operational. Weapon controls are responsive."

"Mission folder… viewed and understood. Sky 3-1 ready to launch flight control." He reported finally.

"Flight control copies. Check and report status of other squadron members." Came the response. Accordingly Rovek addressed the other two members of his squadron, asking for their status.

"Sky 3-2 ready to launch" Answered the first, Ekenth.

"Sky 3-3 ready." Said the third, Deavae.

Rovek nodded to himself before reporting the situation to his superiors in flight control: "All members of Sky 3 squadron reporting ready. Requesting permission to launch.

"Launch permission granted for immediate takeoff, good luck out there." Flight control answered after a short pause as they checked that the airspace was clear of hostile units one last time. With the launch permission order now granted, interceptor squadron Sky 3 set off on its mission, emerging from the red gloom of the carrier's main hold into the brightness of the midday desert. After a few moments of straight flight in a perfect triangular formation they turned left and headed for their objective, the Sakala command carrier. The Gaalsien and Siidim had been exchanging air raids for the past several days, with the Kapisi apparently lagging behind, out of attack range. One side attacked, then the other retaliated, and on and on went the almost poetic cycle of vengeance, both sides tearing at each other as they made their way to the Beladin dune sea. Only twenty minutes before they sad set off on their mission the Ashoka crews had repelled a force of Siidim fighters. Now it was their turn again to hit their enemy.

"Sir, I have been meaning to ask, has there been word on the Renza?" Deavae asked as they were flying to their target.

"No, nothing new for the time being. Bit weird to be honest but hey, when have they ever told us grunts anything? I suppose if something happens that we need to know they'll tell us then. For now I think the best course of action is to just do what they sent us out here to do. That part at least was fairly clear."

"That being the part where they told us to go out there, smack them in the head a bit, then go home and wait for them to do the same to us, repeat as necessary?" Deavae asked in jest.

"Yup. Glad you read the mission folder, Sky 3-3" Rovek answered sarcastically, causing Deavae to laugh on her end of the radio.

"Well, if you ask me they probably have just gotten lost and managed to break their radio in the bargain. Might as well have right? At least that's what I'm hoping has happened. Let's just say that I don't fancy any of the other possibilities that might be the explanation, not with there currently being two baddie fleets against our one." Ekenth said, joining the conversation.

"I wouldn't worry. The Lady-Protector will figure it out. She has before. Pretty smart woman that one." Deavae replied.

"Yeah, it's something else I'm hoping will be the case. Just seems bad at the moment." Ekenth said, trying to sound optimistic but failing to sound entirely convinced. Meanwhile, Rovek had been watching his instrumentation, comparing their current location with the area given to them in their mission folders.

"Were getting close to the mission area. The Sakala should be somewhere around this area, so be ready. Essential coms only from this point forward. Get low, beneath their air sensors. Low, as in hug the dunes, ok?" He told his squad.

"Roger zero-one." The other members of his squadron gave their acknowledgement in their turn. And so they advanced, their path following the shapes of the dunes as their eyes and sensors were seeking out their enemies.

"Enemy carrier spotted to our left." Ekenth announced after several moments in flight. And true enough, there it was, the huge bulk of the Sakala, crawling amongst the sands, raising up huge plumes of dust as it advanced. Around the massive bulk of the carrier, the smaller ships of the enemy fleet swarmed.

"Assume attack formation, arm weapons." Rovek commanded as they turned towards their targets as one, approaching the carrier's front. The enemy had clearly already noticed their presence and had begun to respond. Fortunately they were approaching at such a low angle that the carrier could not target their anti-air missiles at them, but that did not prevent the enemy from using other guns at their disposal against them.

"Watch that incoming fire! Stay low and continue to take evasive actions! Press to attack range!" Rovek ordered as streams of fire were directed at them from the two machine cannons near the nose of the Siidim carrier, the shells impacting the dunes around them. Other enemy ships were firing at them as well, intensifying the storm of fire even further. Now and then the enemy anti-air ships sent blue tailed missiles flying at them, which they evaded or redirected safely away from them using their onboard countermeasure systems. Despite this impressive display of firepower being thrown at them, the Gaalsien fighter squadron managed to keep advancing, pressing ever closer to their intended target. As they were on the final leg of their approach before their main attack run, Rovek spotted movement on the upper deck of the enemy carrier.

"Enemy is deploying strike fighters. Prioritize these targets." He told his crew, recognizing the very real threat that enemy strike craft presented in this situation.

They climbed slightly higher as they advanced so as to not smash themselves on the carrier they were attacking, arming the missiles they were carrying at the same time. Rovek selected one of the enemy fighters, telling his computer to target it. His computer not only targeted the fighter he had chosen, but also calculated the optimal placement for the missiles he had armed and even negotiated with the other computers of his squadron, ensuring effective target distribution.

"Locking on… firing!" Rovek shouted into his radio as a trio of missiles erupted from the underside of his fighter his two wingmen following suit. Moments later the front section of the carrier's flight deck erupted in a storm of explosions, catching the enemy strike fighters within it. The next thing they knew they passed through the smoke their exploding missiles had created and were racing across the length of the carrier, the deck plating swirling past less than ten meters beneath them. Glancing to his side he could just make out blurry figures behind windows seeking cover as they passed them by far too close for comfort, flashing in and out of his field of vision in an instant. It all lasted only a few moments, and then he was in the clear, emerging into the open air. He turned sharply to the right, heading away from the Sakala. As before he tried to stay as low as possible to give less of a target to the enemy. The enemy gunners were ready for him and a fresh volley of incoming fire swarmed after him. Twisting, dodging and evading he nonetheless managed to make his way out, finally managing to make his into a relatively safe spot of cover. Throughout this all he did not have a clear picture where his other squadron members were. He simply had to rely on their skills and trust them to keep themselves safe, as he had done with himself. Fortunately this was not the first time they had done this maneuver before. As soon as he was in the clear he called to the other members of his squadron, asking for their status.

"Sky 3-2 still flying. By Sajuuk, that stunt is never going to get any less scary is it?" Ekenth replied, his voice a mixture of excitement and being frightened.

"Sky 3-3 is all good, and I beg to differ. That was incredible fun! Should we do it again?" Deavae answered, practically giggling.

Rovek laughed at Deavae's comment. "No, I think once a day is enough. Let's set course for home. Good work everyone." He said. Just then an alarm caught his attention. He checked his instruments and saw the alert type: A missile, locked on his fighter and closing in.

"Hostile missile in flight! Look out!" he shouted, breaking formation and turning sharply to the left, passing just over Ekenth's fighter. His sudden maneuver saved his life, as just then the missile he had detected passed through the air and slammed into the ground as it tried to turn to follow his fighter. As it impacted the ground the missile went off the shockwave rocking his fighter, nearly making him lose control and crash into the groung. Nonetheless he escaped unharmed. His squad likewise survived, breaking formation and scattering in all directions.

"Fucking damn it, where did that come from?" Deavae cursed.

"Not sure, hold on." Rovek answered, checking his radar, searching for a possible origin source of the missile. Already he believed that a surface-to-air missile was an unlikely option. They were still flying so low it was not really possible for the enemy to lock onto them with such missiles. That left only two other options: One, a desperate shot with a surface-to-surface missile fired at their general location, also unlikely since the missile had seemed far more accurate than that. Two, an air- to-air missile launched by an aircraft they had missed. Still unexpected, since the airspace had been clear when the begun their attack, but more feasible than the other possibilities. And so he stared at his radar display, his eyes intently seeking sensor contacts other than theirs. It was then he saw it: A single enemy contact flashing in and out of his screen, likely indicating that the target was moving low, travelling between dunes as their own squadron was. The said contact was moving towards their position with great speed, moving too fast to be anything else than a strike fighter (as if the missile just fired at then was not evidence enough.), coming from the direction of the Sakala.

"Incoming enemy aircraft! I think one of the enemy strike fighters survived our attack!" Rovek shouted to his squadmates, alerting them to the danger.

"I see it, four o'clock. Deavae look out, I think it's coming after you!" Ekenth said in warning, and indeed the lone coalition fighter was charging straight at Deavae's interceptor with clear intent of murder.

"Perfect, isn't that just my luck." Deavae commented sarcastically. "Ok, thanks for the tip, taking action!" she added hastily, already moving to avoid the enemy fighter. Several moments of frantic dodging maneuvering followed as the enemy tried to chase Deavae down, firing another missile as it went that she avoided only barely by firing off a countermeasure.

"Uh, if it's not too much to ask, could you gentlemen help a girl out and get this idiot off me? I could really use the help. As in right now." Deavae asked, sounding understandably nervous.

"Ekenth, can you intercept?" Rovek asked, checking his own situation at the same time.

"No can do sir, I've no more missiles left." Ekenth answered.

"Allright then, I'll handle this, I still have one missile. You get yourself home, you've done everything you can here." Rovek told him.

"Understood. Sorry, sir." Rovek answered, regret in his voice.

"It's all right, nothing you could do anyway. Now go on." Rovek replied.

With that they went their separate ways, Ekenth moving to leave the battlefield and Rovek turning to go after the coalition fighter still chasing after Deavae. And so an intense chase of pursuing the pursuer ensued, the coalition pilot stubbornly refusing to break off from the pursuit of his target to evade Rovek's pursuit. Rovek tried several times to lock on with his one remaining missile each attempt failing because of a sudden maneuver made by the enemy fighter as it responded to Deavae's movements.

"Damn it, stay still for a moment Deavae, I need to get a clear shot!" Rovek spat as he once again failed to acquire lock.

"Stay still!? Are you completely mad!? How am I going to do that!? This is hard enough as it is without someone making stupid suggestions!" Deavae rebuked, sounding panicky. "Shit… can't navigate well enough down here. I have to get some altitude, get into open air." she added then, beginning to ascend at a steep angle.

"No, no, no, wait! We're still within range of the ground launchers. Go up and we'll have AA missiles up our asses in no time!" Shouted in warning.

"WELL I DON'T HAVE CHOICE HERE DO I!? I STAY PUT AND I'M DEAD!" Deavae screamed, continuing to climb ever higher.

"By Sajuuk…" Rovek exclaimed, cursing Deavae in his mind for not listening. He continued to follow the coalition flyer, beginning the targeting procedure again. He was waiting for the missile to finish locking on when the missile alert on his console sounded off again, indicating a missile had been fired at him from the ground. Rovek's hand moved a fraction on the controls of his fighter, his instincts reacting to move himself to evade the incoming missile. Then he stopped himself. Deavae was doing her best to keep out of the line of fire but that could only last so long. Without his help she likely only had moments left to live. If he turned away now she was dead for sure. He had to make a choice: Either leave Deavae to die or take a risk with the missile currently charging toward him.

Despite his every instinct screaming for him to do otherwise, he kept his course, waiting for the missile lock on to be established. The process was usually a quick one, designed that way due to obvious necessities. Right now though it felt like lock-on was taking a lifetime to accomplish, the moment made incredibly pressing by the missile he was watching crawl ever closer to his position on the scanner display, the number indicating the distance from him shrinking at an alarming rate:

600 meters… 500… 400….

"Come on, come on, get it done…" Rovek grumbled at his computer, nervous sweat gathering on his brow.

…300…200…100…

"COME ON YOU PIECE OF SHIT MACHINE! DO IT!" He shouted in frustration.

Just as the enemy missile passed the 50 meters mark the red target hovering over the enemy fighter on his windshield turned green, indicating that lock on had finally been achieved. Several things happened at once then. Rovek fired his one remaining missile. Being very close to the enemy fighter at that moment, his missile reached its target almost instantly, disappearing inside one of the main thrusters of the enemy fighter. A flash of light later and the enemy fighter was gone, transformed into blackened metal fragments falling from the sky. Rovek immediately took the chance to turn his fighter in a sharp angle, firing off a countermeasure as he did. Then a blast of force struck his fighter, knocking him off course and sending him into an uncontrolled spiral towards the ground as all systems in the cockpit were turned off. Rovek fought frantically to restore power to his fighter, the ground drawing closer with an alarming rate. Finally the lights in the cockpit lit up again, and Rovek pulled his control stick back, the nose of his fighter beginning to rise, the forces of his maneuver pressing him against his seat. He managed to pull up just in time, the nose of his fighter lifting off a cloud of dust, momentarily blinding him and forcing him to fly on instruments alone.

"Holy… thanks for the rescue sir. Sorry if things got a little heated there, I was freaking out. Are you all right? Looked pretty bad there for a moment." Deavae asked when Rovek was in the clear again.

"Still checking, so far the damage seems to be mostly superficial." Rovek replied. "I think I got away with a scare. Guess that makes two of us, eh?" he continued. Then his smile died on his lips: "Oh shit…"

"What? What is it?" Deavae asked, alarmed at his tone.

"Most of my fuel is gone, and what's left is draining far faster than it should be. I think I have a ruptured fuel tank." Rovek said, the realization sinking in as he spoke.

"Will you be able to make it back home?" Deavae asked.

"I don't think so. The way I'm losing fuel I think I'll only be flying a few more minutes." Calm resignation settling into his voice as he understood the reality of the situation.

"Then… eject sir, get out of there, do it!" Deavae shouted.

"And go off to a slow death in the desert? Or face capture by the Siidim? No thanks." Rovek said, giving a joyless chuckle.

"Sir, capture must be preferable to dying, surely!?" Deavae argued.

"You obviously do not know the Siidim very well." Rovek commented dryly. "No, I think I will go out with a bit of a bang myself." He then said, beginning to change the course of his fighter.

"With a bang? What are you talking about? Wait a minute… you can't possibly mean to… no, no! There has to be some other way. Something!" Deavae said, her voice becoming pleading as she realized what Rovek was about to do.

"There isn't, at least none that I'm willing to choose. This is how it has to be." Rovek replied calmly, all fear gone from his voice.

"Sajuuk's mercy… this happened because of me. If didn't have to interfere to save me… It's my fault. All of it." Deavae said, realizing there was no way to change Rovek's mind, her voice breking as she spoke.

"Nonsense. This happened because I made a choice, and now I'm about to make another. The best thing for you to do now is to make good on my first choice and go home. My last order to you is that you forgive yourself for this, because in Sajuuk's name if you keep blaming yourself I'll find some way to come back and haunt you. Now get going. Goodbye.

Rovek turned off his radio before Deavae was able to say anything else, unwilling to continue arguing about a decision he had already made. Instead he turned his attention back to the matter at hand. He was now flying at full speed towards the enemy carrier, the monstrous machine growing larger and larger in his field of vision. He considered ramming the command bridge until the enemy presented an even better target: an enemy bomber emerged onto the main command deck, no doubt intending to attack the Ashoka in retaliation. If he destroyed that bomber not only could he save many lives by stopping the attack from taking place, but the bombs the enemy flier was carrying could help him do a lot more damage as well. It seemed that the enemy had not yet realized what he was going to do, otherwise they would not have provided such a perfect target for him. As he began his approach AA –fire began once again to fly at him. He used the last of his countermeasures to evade a missile they were trying to shoot him down with. Only moments later his fuel finally ran out, leaving him into a freefall towards the carrier. No turning back now.

"Come on you sons of bitches! Let's how you like this!" Rovek shouted at the top of his lungs as the enemy carrier filled his view.

With a final scream of defiance he struck home, crashing onto the top of the bomber. The force of impact set off the bombs the enemy was carrying, and the resulting explosion promptly cleaved the bomber in two, the larger piece tumbling off the side of the carrier and onto the ground. The section of hull where the explosion happened was left scarred and pitted, the lift for raising bombers to the launch deck disabled for the time being. Shrapnel from the explosion was scattered in all directions. Such shrapnel would have caused terrible carnage among deck crews, had any been present at the time. Sadly desert conditions ensured that the upper deck was devoid of life. Nonetheless the pieces of metal flying with hurricane force embedded themselves all over the flight deck and command bridge, cracking the fortified windows there. One such piece even managed to break its way inside command center and impale itself on the commander's chair, only inches away from the head of captain Mashad.

Rovek would never learn how close he had come to killing the Siidim commander.