Chapter 3 - AU Zhukoverse Drabbles
Planet - Here
Date - March 22nd 3050
VFA Squadron 113 was thundering along at treetop height, six Lucifers flying in loose formation were jinking to climb over ridgelines or overly tall trees and the occasional power pylon as they headed towards their targets. Over thirty thousand feet above VFA-113 the dozen Seydlitz fighters of VF-74 were providing top cover; the little interceptors were far too vulnerable to ground fire but their speed and agility made them perfect escorts for the bomb-laden Lucifers below them.
Hauptman Loewenstern grunted slightly as his fighter skirted a ridge before ducking down below it, the wash of his fighter’s engines sending leaves flying off the trees a few dozen feet below. A quick glance at his radar told him that it was a few more minutes before they’d make their turn and begin their attack.
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Lucifer Medium Aerospace Fighters in combat
They’d been ordered to strike at the Jade Falcons as they marched on the Capital, the invader’s Mechs emerging from the woods as Colonel Green’s Mechs, tanks and the planetary militia formed up to defend Struggle. The planet of Here wasn’t known for much save its name but the 8th RCT was in a bad way and if they were to die here, then the Battle of Struggle at least sounded good.
The Falcon’s had landed right on top of the 8th RCT and had given the 8th little time to deploy properly or use its air assets. Colonel Green had ordered his fighters dispersed rather than try any low orbit battles, not with the damn WarShip that had come with the invaders playing overwatch for the DropShips. At least now the squadrons assigned to the 8th was able to get into the fight as the Colonel simply couldn’t order the bombing of Cameron City during the confused brawl between the invaders and the 8th.
“Strike lead this is escort lead, bogies on LIDAR, count is ten bandits.”
“Roger Escort Lead, keep the flea’s off our back.”
“Roger!”
Lowenstern winced, the Seydlitzs were all part of the planetary militia, and had formed the worlds front line defence against Pirates. They were amateurs, well trained and well-meaning but more use to acting as a scarecrow against any Pirates bold enough to strike at Here.
The normal escorts for VF-113 were busy elsewhere, six strikes were going in from different vectors to stretch any defenders and AA defenses, as well as trying to get at the invader’s DropShips as well as hit bridges and roads to try slow the invader’s down and buy the 8th RCT some time to at least dig in properly.
“Lead to Strikers, arm bombs and follow me!”
“Strike Lead! Bogies are splitting, six coming for you, for moving to intercept us.”
“Engage at will but stay up high in case of more show up!”
“Roger!”
A flashing light on Lowenstern’s HUD and a rapid BEEP-BEEP tone told him that his fighter was being painted by radar but he didn’t know if it was ground or air-based, either way, it was too late. The six fighters coming down were still outside weapons range just as the trees suddenly vanished and turned into rolling grassland and gentle hills. Mech’s were scattering as he mashed his finger down on the release button and four 1,000lb bombs their fall ****** by parachutes dropped from the belly of his fighter which jolted upwards slightly at the sudden change in weight. His rear-view camera showed the four bombs straddle a Thunderbolt like Mech before they detonated throwing smoke and mud into the air but he swore he saw what looked like an arm go spiraling off in the blast.
Pulling back hard, swinging his fighter around towards another Clan Mech, a smaller but fast-moving one Lowenstern thumbed the trigger for his lasers and then he heard it.
“Jesus! We can’t turn with these fighters!”
“John! On your six! Brake right!”
“Tara’s gone; I’m breaking to eng….”
The escorts were getting cut to bits, the war book was coming up blank with the aero’s tangling with the blocky Seydlitz or now coming towards them at high speed. Then his threat warning lit up and Lowenstern pulled his fighter into a high-g turn, grunting against the forces being exerted on him even as he felt his flight suit swell and apply pressure to stop blood pooling. The turn saved him as a white-hot particle blast tore through the space where his fighter would have been.
“Strike group, form up and engage!”
A chorus of acknowledgements over the radio told him that his squadron was still alive and despite bursts of laser fire from below they were all still in the fight. The war book couldn’t ID the hostiles, four of them were sleek craft, exceptionally aerodynamic and no doubt superb dogfighters, two were larger, the computer guessed and said they were 80-ton aircraft but still didn’t have a type or class. Seeing the Lucifers coming towards them the black and white fighters split into their own pairs, loosening up their formation before they fired as the fighters of VFA-113 started volleying their missiles and jammed the throttle to the firewall.
The four smaller craft accelerated and kept on accelerating! They were big craft, easily 60 tons but, their performance was insane! Not as fast as the Seydlitz but faster than any fighter that size had any business being. Each one was spitting PPC blasts from their nose whilst the larger craft were heading right for Hauptman Loewenstern and his wingman.
Jinking and adjusting his pitch and yaw slightly every few seconds Lowenstern fired a volley of missiles but the Clan fighter snap rolled to port before it returned fire, a pair of bright green laser bolts scorching the paint on his fighter as they missed my centimeters before the gun under the fighter’s nose spoke.
The impact of the gauss slug smashed Lowenstern back against his chair, immensely thankful for the bracing and neck guard he wore as the fighter’s computer tried to figure out just what the hell had hit it and how bad the damage was. The slug had punched clean through the armor but hadn’t hit anything vital on its way out, but there was an ugly gash in the nose of the Lucifer and a notable judder in the stick from the ruined airflow. Snarling, Lowenstern mashed his finger on his large laser, which pulsed a trio of shots off, one of which hit, but did little more than leave a shallow looking scar on the paintwork.
“Damn these guys are good!”
That was Leftenan Jenvers, a veteran in her own right with a half dozen Kuritan kills to her name.
“Got behind the little bastard and he just looped out. No rear guns though! Just couldn’t match his turn!”
‘I know that feeling’ Lowenstern thought as he pulled his fighter into a hard turn, the whole fighter shaking and groaning as the Clan fighter pulled itself into a climb before the flaps all opened and the big craft’s nose snapped up and back, the aero bleeding speed in a perfectly executed cobra maneuver that saw Lowenstern’s Lucifer overshoot and roar past as the Clan fighter’s nose came down.
The Lyran Officer couldn’t help but shake his head, at the speed they were doing and at the altitude, he’d never even dare a cobra, but this Clan pilot had. He was still smiling as a pair of ER Large Lasers and a gauss rifle slug shattered his fighter’s rear and the fuel tank blew. He was dead a heartbeat later and three heartbeats after that, the wreckage of his wrecked fighter slammed into the ground,
Star Captain Ezra Hakimi allowed himself a brief smile, the Cobra had been a flashy maneuver but he’d gambled correctly that the Spheroid wouldn’t see it coming. Still, they flew well and bravely. Three more craters marked the graves of other Lucifer’s but the rest had managed to evade and were running. Glancing at his Crow’s fuel status he made a decision.
“Alpha Star, our job is done, RTB to refuel and rearm.” He knew that orbiting above the CSR Bellona was waiting for them to return. The Falcons were being quite cunning, bidding away their fighters and then asking the Snow Raven ‘observers’ if they wished to carry out reconnaissance and security flights to protect their WarShip and carrier DropShips. That such recon sweeps involved orbital and atmospheric flights didn’t bother the Falcons, it would have ‘bothered’ the ilKhan, but what the ilKhan didn’t know didn’t hurt anyone. The Falcons knew that the Raven’s would not be landing any Mechs and the glory of any ground battles were theirs alone. Its why Alpha Star had been told to orbit just out of range. It was of course unfortunate that the Lyran’s had been able to get their initial strike off but, such was the vagaries of war.
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