Omega [REDUX]

Chapter 23

"Fighter remnants coming in!"

Almost immediately Anna heard the sound of her fighter's missile warning. "Breaking away from main group," she reported. "Can't risk the missile hitting the Turtle."

The alarm grew in severity as she pulled her Lightning into a steep turn, the once periodic beeping turning into a continuous blaring; she'd been locked on. She withheld her fingers from proc-ing off flares before the enemy missiles were fired.

Then 50mm rounds sailed past her window.

"Shit!" Anna yanked back the joystick, feeling her body being pulled along by g-forces as executed a series of evasive maneuvers. A stray round collided on her wing, sending her craft into an unintended spin. Another alarm sounded, just as a hull integrity check popped up on her HUD. She could hear the familiar hissing as the Lightning deployed sprays of self-repairing carbon-fibre.

The missile lock alarm grew in severity again: missiles had been fired. Anna waited a heartbeat, then fired off her flares and took her craft into a barrel roll. Explosions behind her sent shudders through her cockpit, and she felt her vision become jarred. She realized she didn't have many options; her 'air brakes' were still cooling off from the emergency discharge, and she still had lead rounds engulfing her. "Could use some help over here!" she radioed.

"Roger that. Blue Three, breaking off formation."

Anna struggled to get a bearing on her bogey, sending her fighter into twists and turns in a desperate attempt to avoid being blown out of the sky. But she couldn't keep this up for long. She couldn't tell if the world outside was blurry because of how fast she was going, or whether it was because she was getting dizzier by the minute. "Where the hell is he?"

"I'm on him," Rapunzel reported. "Missiles away—"

Rounds collided into her Lightning craft: one barrage, then a second, then a third. Full-blown warnings began to blare, and she felt her craft shudder and sputter as it began to plummet. "I'm hit!" Anna yelled into her comms. Frantically, she prepped the ejection protocols, bypassed the security override, but another barrage collided into her plane, and for a split second she thought she was a goner.

Then the barrages stopped, amidst the vertigo of her fall.

"I got him," Rapunzel reported, "but you need to bug outta there. Now!"

Anna didn't need to be told twice. She yanked on the eject lever, and her entire cockpit encased itself in a titanium alloy shell. Clamps shuddered and thumped as they released, allowing the escape pod to descend from the burning carcass of the fighter, emergency thrusters sending the pod along its way.

But it wasn't over just yet. Anna was still vulnerable, especially so with a total dearth of counter-measures and offensive weapons. "Plotting course towards simulated landing site," she reported. "Stay with the Turtle. I'll meet you guys groundside."

"Are you sure?" Merida asked. "You could get eaten up there."

"If I do, then Elsa will direct everything from there on out," she replied, a sour taste in her mouth forming at the thought of failure. She didn't want to fail, not now, not when she'd barely mustered the courage to carry on. "Our main priority is to ensure the Turtles reach the city. That's all up to you now; escort it down there."

"Copy that," her team responded in unison.

Anna triggered the cameras on the exterior of the pod; the metal plates that encased her pod turned into simulated windows, LED displays that gave her a full view of her surroundings. She turned her helmet encased head to glance behind her. She watched her team pull away from her and back towards the Turtle and its convoy, sending hails of lead and the occasional missile back at incoming enemy targets. She forced herself to breathe; the airspace was their concern now, and she had no part in it anymore. Now her concern was the battlefield on the ground.

If she got to the ground.

Fiery rounds sailed past her. Panic erupted in her chest as she triggered increased power for her thrusters; she was at the mercy of her opponent's accuracy. If she could get to the city before she took too much damage, she might still stand a chance.

Elsa contemplated her options. She knew from recently updated intel that the enemy had anti-ballistics stationed near the cannon, powerful enough to swat any barrage of any size out of the air. Further scans showed energy shielding around the cannon, powerful shielding at that. She was glad that her initial hunch had been accurate, and that she hadn't wasted missiles on the cannon. The combined firepower of all the remaining cruisers payloads would only dent the fortified area.

She realized how her plan had been based on so many assumptions, it was a miracle that it was still sound. The assault phase would go ahead; it was the run up to the coup de grace. If the assault phase failed, they would have a very big problem.

For now though, Elsa stared dead ahead at the 5 hostile cruisers ahead. "Weapons, let's give these cruisers a jump. Give me a firing solution for a coordinated barrage."

"Affirmative. Calculating solution now."

"Navigations, move us along vector 3-1-3, but maintain thrust towards the city. One way or the other we still need to close our distance to the cannon."

"Yes commander." The bridge erupted into a flurry of activity, each of the officers scrambling to execute Elsa's orders. Elsa brought up her own display, and ran through a scan of the five Assault Carriers. Luckily for Elsa, her earlier move had rendered the Carriers' payload of fighters worthless; without the fighter swarms, they were essentially slower versions of the Assault Cruisers in Elsa's own fleet. She would be lucky if she could utilize their superior speed to her advantage.

"Force Commander to all units, dispatching firing solution. Once we're in range, select your targets and fire at will." She was counting on her enemy not knowing how to execute firing solutions. Firing solutions were the only thing she could count reliably on right now; at the very least, she hoped that they'd be able to counter some more advanced weaponry that her enemy might possess.

Probably shouldn't jinx myself.

Something beeped on her display. "Commander, we're detecting high radiation signatures from the enemy ships."

Elsa narrowed her eyes. "Is it a reactor leak?"

"Negative, commander. It's a specific pattern. Running through recognition databases now."

I better not have jinxed—

"It's a Whiplash Torpedo signature, ma'am."

I fucking jinxed myself. "How many?"

"At least two from every enemy ship." I doubly jinxed myself. Elsa cursed under her breath.

She ran through her options again. "What are our available counter-measures?"

"We could try throwing off a few flares, but given that they already have line of sight, it's probably not going to work very well, commander." The officer that spoke was now sweating visibly, trying to keep his voice steady. Elsa didn't blame him; if they couldn't survive an assault from the 5 carriers, then it would only be a matter of time before their ground forces that Elsa had personally deployed were obliterated.

Whiplash Torpedoes were shredder ballistics that ripped through an enemy ship's armor plating before detonating inside, causing maximum damage. Although slow moving, they had been designed to fire in such a way that any ship's main cannon could not rotate to attack. By taking advantage of the flaw in the ship's weapon design, and being equipped with homing devices, Whiplash Torpedoes were the ultimate anti-ship weapon. Elsa was about to go up against about 10 of these.

Then she saw something shimmer on the surface of the nearest carrier.

No.

They wouldn't make it that unfair, would they?

Did they really put shields on the enemy carriers? Assault Carriers didn't normally come with shields. And if they did, how powerful were they?

If they were powerful enough, then her plan might not even suffice. She wasn't sure what kind of shielding they were equipped with. If they were able to survive the combined barrage of frag missiles and a lance gun blast, then they were going to be in a pickle.

The odds were, to say the least, stacked heavily against her.

She could feel her mind race as she scrambled to come up with a solution. None came to her mind, or at least, none that would invariably succeed. Anything she undertook right now would be a massive gamble, which would either doom this entire scenario or keep them going for another few moments.

If that's the case, there's no harm trying what you think you should be doing.

No one's ever done that before.

And since when did that ever stop you?

It was never this risky.

Face it, everything is going to be equally, if not more, risky in actual combat.

But you have people's futures to consider. Your team is counting on you. For that matter, Anna is counting on you.

That made her hesitate.

"What's our move, Commander?" the officer asked, as they closed in on effective firing range for both ships.

It's now or never, Elsa.

She took a deep breath, let it out again, and steeled her gaze. "Navigations, set our course to 0-0-0. Full power to the engines. It's time to go hunting."

She wasn't going to make it.

Even as rounds sailed past Anna scrambled to find a suitable landing spot. There was none. Every place deemed acceptable by the onboard computer was far too exposed; she'd be dead meat if she landed there. The gun firing at her would shred her to bits if a missile didn't get to her first. For now, her hostile fighter was playing with her; he or she knew that Anna was clearly helpless, and was simply screwing around at this point.

Very well, Anna thought. I'm not going to make this too easy for you.

A round struck the pod; the titanium-reinforced plating held for now, but it sent the pod into a tumble. As vertigo slammed into Anna she reset the coordinates on her pod and took manual control of the limited maneuverability the pod provided her. If she'd learned anything from Elsa, it was that all her training and mental conditioning was not just to keep calm, but to keep calm when the situation demanded something crazy.

And most of the time, the situation always demanded crazy.

Anna ignored the klaxons that began to blare in her pod when it detected her simulated trajectory. She'd ignored all the recommended landing sites and set her own course. To say the least, it was going to be a rough landing.

Anna aimed straight towards the nearest skyscraper. Luckily, it was abandoned, so she wouldn't have to worry about civilian casualties adding a blotch to her after-action report. More rounds struck the pod, but she gunned the thrusters harder and prayed.

Another round struck. The simulated windows began to flicker.

One more. A panel came free; the simulated window was now a real, unprotected glass window.

Then grey concrete engulfed her surroundings. Anna braced herself against the console as the pod slammed into pillar after pillar, sending debris flying everywhere as the pod fired retrorockets to attempt to reach a sane velocity. Some of them sputtered and died; the remaining only managed to keep the pod from rolling on its side. A terrible screeching sound reached Anna's ears, which began to die off bit by bit. But the pod continued to skid towards the edge of the building.

Where a drop of at least 20 storeys awaited her.

Anna's reflexes kicked in; she slammed her fist upon the pod cover, knocking out the titanium plates that covered the top of her cockpit, watching the scenery blur past her as she retrieved her weapons. Through her HUD she prepped her suit's protocols, almost losing her balance as she pushed herself up amidst the strong g-forces, planting a firm grip onto the side of her cockpit.

She watched, heart in her mouth, as the edge of the building rushed to meet her screeching, creaking craft. Almost at the same time, she saw the silhouette of a jet fighter rush by. The fighter was still on her.

Then the pod careened off.

Anna leapt from the pod, watching her body leave the pod, almost as if she was in slow motion. In that moment, she felt calm; not a single trace of fear or panic, not a moment of hesitation as she drew the sniper rifle from her back. Still falling, she brought the rifle up to bear the instant she saw the fighter jet turn the corner, thruster rockets firing to allow the pilot to get a clear shot. Anna tilted her head as she cocked the rifle up against her shoulder, aimed through the scope, and watched as the crosshairs lined up with the pilot's signature visor covered helmet.

And pulled the trigger.

She barely caught a glimpse of the bullet trail as she fell, but she did see the plane suddenly keel to the left. Her mind still in overdrive, she triggered her suit's retro-rockets, propulsion slamming into her body as she continued to plummet, her velocity barely slowing down. The ground rushed up to meet her, and for the second time today she thought she was done for.

She wasn't. The retro-rockets increased in propulsion, bringing her fall to a sane velocity, but not without her slamming into the ground legs first. Shockwaves jarred her body and she collapsed to the ground, her hard Sentinel power armor clanking as she did.

Above her, the frantic whirring of jet engines could be heard, silenced by a deafening explosion that forced her to duck her head as shrapnel came flying by. Anna lifted her head, only to see the skyscraper she had jumped from now ablaze from the crashed jet. The pilot was done for; her HUD detected no nearby hostiles. She wasn't about to be attacked anytime soon.

As her adrenaline began to recede, the pain began to set in, blossoming from her chest to her torso to her limbs. Anna coughed, lying limp on the ground, barely noticing the crater her impact had made. She'd never think she'd be so exhausted that even tarmac became appealing as a resting place.

Goddamn.

How the hell did I survive that?

She couldn't muster the strength to move. Radio chatter crackled in her comm unit as she laid back and gazed skyward, and for a while she began to worry that it was broken, but was far too tired to do anything about it. Her eyelids drooped even as her limbs ached, and for a while she was tempted to relax.

Blue plasma arced across the sky.

Shit.

How long had she been lying there? Anna scrambled to her feet, taking stock of her surroundings, cursing herself for letting her guard down. She'd crash landed in the middle of a city district, not too far from the Turtle's designated landing sites. I should probably go and secure the site. She felt for her sniper rifle, brought it up to check for damage, and slid it back into its magnetic grip, satisfied with its current state. She'd be fine on the ground.

Anna sprinted across the road, making a beeline for the landing site.

"Assault Carriers just entered effective firing range, Commander."

"Understood. All units, fire at will!"

Gunfire opened up again in the space between both fleets, orange streaks leaping through the air to collide in blossoms of blackened flame. The occasional blue beam pierced the orange backdrop, cutting through the space, and occasionally cutting through a few ships. Elsa cursed her fleet commanders; they hadn't the foresight to prep their lance guns and missiles in advance. The only thing they were firing at the enemy now were 120mm rounds from automated turrets.

"Do we engage, commander?" her weapons officer asked anxiously, her fingers tightening around her console.

"Not yet."

Murmuring echoed around the bridge. Elsa forced herself not to worry right now; insubordination might be a potential concern, but she'd have to trust that her officers placed the same trust in her if this was to work. "Select the furthest ship in our range."

"Ma'am," her weapons officer reported, "that ship already has two others firing upon it."

An explosion rippled through the sky. Elsa cast a glance out the window, watching one of her fleet ships go down to plasma fire. "You were saying, officer?"

"Make that one other ship, commander." The officer swallowed.

"Target that carrier and fire immediately!" She needed that order carried out. She needed to see if her hunch was correct, if their shields could survive coordinated barrages, before attempting her much more crazy alternative. But she needed the crew to see for themselves; they'd never trust her fully otherwise.

Now the question was, did they have enough time to confirm Elsa's hunch before the carrier directly in front of them took advantage of their inactivity?

A series of thumps echoed along the bridge. "Missiles away, commander." She watched the white trails streak across the sky as the main hologram on the bridge brought up a display tracking their trajectories. With bated breath she watched the missiles close in.

At the exact moment, the firing solution's protocols kicked in. The signature yellow beam of the lance gun lashed out just as the missiles connected with the surface of the ship. As smoke rose up to shroud the craft, lance gun fire and missile streaks lashed out from her other ships. "Tactical! Are those ships still up?"

A lull.

Before her officer on the bridge could respond, a yellow beam lashed out from the Assault Carrier in front of them. Elsa ignored the shuddering of the bridge and the creaking of metal, staring straight at the cloud of dust and debris that had begun to clear.

The shimmering blue surface began to materialize. Elsa swore out loud. "Ready another barrage!" she yelled, as she moved over to her console. She had 7 ships left, and she was bound to take casualties very, very soon. "All ships, concentrate fire on single enemy carriers. Their shields are upgraded; a single barrage isn't going to take them out."

She had little doubt that some commanders wouldn't follow her instructions, and it would be too late by the time they figured out her rationale. She was going to have to work within acceptable margins, but she doubted that they'd be acceptable in anyway.

"Ma'am, we're detecting Whiplash Torpedo launches."

"How many and what's their trajectory?" Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

The display flashed, bringing up a render of their ship relative to the enemy carriers. Elsa spotted 2 Whiplash Torpedoes firing in a signature fashion: from below the hull at a 45 degree angle, moving relatively slowly. Within minutes they would loop back up and slam into the Command Cruiser.

Elsa couldn't afford that. "Navigations, are we level with the enemy Carrier?"

"Affirmative, ma'am."

The height of a Carrier is about… "Navigations, full speed ahead; ascend our craft to course 0-1-0. Bring us over the Carrier."

"Sorry, ma'am, directly OVER the enemy Assault Carrier?"

"You heard me right the first time, officer."

"With all due respect, commander, that exposes our underbelly to their guns."

"I understand that, officer, and I thank you for your initiative." Elsa wasn't about to start a blame game now, not when her heart was pounding and her blood was pumping this fast. "But that is a risk we will have to take. Execute those maneuvers."

More murmuring. Elsa took a deep breath to calm herself.

She felt the ship rise ever so slowly.

Anna snuck alongside the piles of rubble, her weapons still slung over her back. She'd contemplated carrying them in case she ran into anyone, but she needed to move fast, and carrying weapons by hand would only hinder her. "Blue Leader to Blue Team, what's your status?"

She got garbled static for a few seconds, and for a moment her heart skipped a beat. Then a coherent response reached her ears: "We're still moving with the convoy. You alright down there?"

"I'm fine, Rapunzel. Just barely." Anna stopped in her tracks, peeking around the corner as she took a knee. "How are you guys not there yet?"

"Anti-air weapons on the ground; got a bunch of RPGs in cover and we can't seem to spot them without getting shot at. Already lost two other birds from other squadrons."

"I'll deal with it," Anna replied. "Just watch the Turtles."

"Yes ma'am."

Anna could already see the landing site; a clearing filled with rubble with buildings on either side. No wonder someone was able to set up defensive positions with RPGs. Then again, there was no one to blame; there were almost no other sites suitable for the landings. She drew her ASR1 from her back, removed the safety once again and peered through the scope.

Can't seem to spot them, eh…? Anna turned her scope away from the clearing and the rubble and peered at the surrounding buildings. RPG effective range considered, that will place our targets somewhere here… She tweaked the zoom on her scope, peering at the buildings' upper floors. Almost instantly, she spied dark shapes moving in the shadows. She marked out the targets, waited to see if she'd missed any, and checked the surrounding buildings to do the same. In total, she'd spotted out almost 16 targets.

16 possible RPGs. There was no way she was going to take out 16 before getting blasted to smithereens herself. She was outgunned, and she didn't want to risk calling in air support.

Unless…

Anna changed her comm channel. "Elsa, are you there?"

She swore she heard a sigh of relief on the other end. "Anna. Where are you?"

"I'm near the landing site, but I'm outgunned. 16 soldiers armed with an unknown number of RPGs are guarding the place. Can't call in air support or get the Turtles to land. Can you spare anything—"

A muffled explosion on the other side of the channel cut her off mid-sentence. "Elsa?" she asked frantically. "Elsa? Are you alright?"

Swearing and frantic orders. "I'm alright," came her voice. "I'm just being hit by lance guns, and I've got a pair of Whiplash Torpedoes on my tail. What do you need?"

Her heart began to beat faster. No, I could be distracting her from her task at hand. I could cost her her life if I asked for assistance. If she loses focus and those missiles connect—

"Anna! What do you need?"

"A single frag missile should do it." The words came tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop herself. "Targets will be marked, uploading data to shipboard computers now."

"Roger that. I'll do what I can."

Fuck fuck fuck. What have I done?

Anna cut the comms, began the upload, and clenched the handle of her rifle ever tighter. She tried to force herself to focus, and ignore the possibility of being cut down at any time, or that of Elsa getting killed because of her. But she knew thinking that was possible was naive. If anything, her best course of action was to roll with it, with whatever mistake she may or may not have made.

So she did.

Anna steadied herself, took aim once again, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

Her first shot was extremely lucky; with a single round she neutralized two targets as the round ripped through both sets of armor. She could hear panicked yelling, even as she began to relocate herself, just in time before a rocket impacted where she was just 5 seconds ago. She leapt into the air, took aim and fired off another round just before she hit the ground. Another target fell just before she scrambled to her feet.

"Anna?" Her comms crackled to life; it was Merida. "You sure you're okay down there? Your movement patterns just got more erratic, and we're seeing a few explosions down there."

Anna grit her teeth as her muscles began to ache. "Just hold on, guys," she responded. "We'll get this over with soon enough."

This chapter was an absolute bitch to write, further compounded by an exam period :P will keep going as much as I can though; still really like this universe and the plot thus far