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 Author What Price Victory?
Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black


Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
Posted: 2011-11-24 19:45   


"T-Minus 5 minutes to launch", the 1MC announced. A visual display of the announcement flashed on the status board that was mounted on the ceiling of the cavernous compartment.

Chernov looked up at the status board just for a moment before going back to what he was doing. Working from memory, he activated the main and aux gen by pressing a couple of buttons on the large touch screen panel in front of him.

Large was an understatement. In fact, the Steelhead's entire cockpit was a single flat panel touch screen display; a veritable glass cockpit. With his thoughts or voice command, a pilot could split the display into several segments or panels each displaying separate flight or status info. Presets were available, though some pilots preferred to customize the layout to their liking.

The plane captain climbed up the ladder next to the cockpit and gave him the thumbs up, indicating a positive walkaround physical check of his fighter. Chernov smiled and nodded his gesture of thanks, then turned back to the panel and turned on the navigation systems on the left main panel. The nav display went through its boot up procedures and began calibrating and uplinking to the mothership. While that was taking place, Chernov powered up the sensors and scanners on the systems panel. The central panel flickered for a moment as the main radar mounted in the nose of the F-29 energized, then went into a lower power standby mode and began its self test.

Once that was done, the plane captain lowered Chernov's helmet over his head and sealed the helmet's ring base around the collar of his flight suit. Then he connected the life support hoses the side of the seats to the ports located on the back of Chernov's suit, right below the neck. Completed, he tapped Chernov twice on the shoulder then gave him a hand signal. Chernov saluted to acknowledge, then activated the life support system. He felt cool air being fed into his suit as it began to pressurize.

Next, he called up the HUD and HMD from the right control panel. The HUD winked to life and began calibrating itself, followed by a series or symbols on his visor. The HUD was primarily used to display vector info and flight parameters, while the HMD was used for targeting the enemy by simply facing or looking, allowing him to fire his missiles off boresight. If looks could kill, indeed.

All systems indicated green. The plane captain climbed down the cockpit ladder as Chernov began lowering the canopy. On the right panel, he touched the engine start button and listened to the whine of the gens as it fed power to the ion engine situated just a few feet behind him. The whine turned into a hum, then a roar as the engine came to life and climbed to its idle power setting. Next, he tested the flight controls. Settling his hands on the HOTAS controls, he waggled the flight control stick in his right hand. He heard the loud hisses of the attitude control thrusters as he ran through the roll and pitch controls. Then with the rudder pedals, he tested the yaw controls. With that done, he thumbed the unidirectional hat switch on his left throttle stick to test the horizontal and vertical strafe thrusters. The plane captain who was standing ahead of his fighter gave him another thumbs up, indicating everything was working.

Preflight completed, Lieutenant Mikhail "Russkie" Chernov settled into his seat, strapped himself in, and looked at the mission timer.

_________________
... in space, no one can hear you scream.....


Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black


Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
Posted: 2011-11-24 19:46   

T-minus 2 minutes to launch. He looked around and saw the other five fighters in his flight completing their preflights, their respective plane captains retracting the fighters' cockpit ladders.

Russkie was flying the fourth ship in the Nightstalkers, a squadron of twelve F-29 Steelheads. Primarily assigned to anti-ship attack and fleet escort duties, and to a lesser extent, CAP and interception missions, the Nightstalkers were the fleet's scalpel supplementing the cleavers that were the capital ships.

The 'Stalkers would be launching in two flights today. He glanced at Nightstalker 3 on his left, piloted by his wing leader Cathryn "Bug" Barnes. She was a Captain with five thousand hours in the cockpit; two thousand in the FI-8 Gamma interceptor, another two in the XB-11 Annihilator bomber, and the remaining in the F-29. Not exactly tall and not exactly attractive, only her mother had ever called her pretty. Her mom also called her Honeybugs. When the rest of the squadron found that out, they truncated it to Bug. She wasn't exactly ugly, but the name stuck anyway. That was the thing about callsigns, if you didn't already have one, you'd be assigned one by your buddies. Something that you probably wouldn't like.

Further to the left in Nightstalkers 2 and 1 were He-With-The-Big-Ears LT Will "Wingnut" Cohen and the CAG, COL Katrina "Hurricane" Walsh. To the right in 5 and 6, LT's Harry "Kiri" Tanaka and Hector "Esse" Fernandez completed the flight. The rest of the Nightstalkers, 7 through 12, were at the rear of the launch bay being readied. They would be positioned for launch right after Flight 1 had cleared the carrier.


They had their preflight mission briefing just two hours ago. Seated in the airwing briefing room, every pilot involved in the operation listened apprehensively as the Fleet Admiral and CAG gave them the details of the upcoming mission. The F-29 squadrons, the Nightstalkers and Hellhounds, were going to be providing escort for the XB-11 bomber squadrons, the Vigilantes, Starhawks, and Deathdealers.

For a month now, the ICC had been engaged in an extended siege in Dres-Kona, fighting to retake the system from the UGTO planet by planet. Through tenacity and the sacrifices of men and materiel, the tide of war had eventually turned in the Confederate's favor. The final phase of the campaign was concentrated on retaking the last contested cluster consisting of Kona and its two moons.

Their ship, the CSS Ellington was an aging M-318 Command Dread, older than most of the pilots onboard. She was the flagship for Task Force Acheron, which was tasked with recapturing Kona and driving off or destroying the UGTO fleet occupying it.

Acheron was the mainstay of Operation Hades, which included three other Task Forces; Styx, Charon and Erebus. The objective was to retake the Kona cluster via a coordinated strike on all three planets. Charon and Styx were to jump in simultaneously on opposite sides of Kona's two moons, Pyron and Oceania, in a move designed to split the defending forces up. The much larger Task Force Acheron would then jump directly into Kona's vicinity not long after, flanking the divided UGTO groups. Erebus was the insurance policy, consisting mainly of missile ships, minelayers and interdictors. Their objective was the Borealis gate; to blockade it and prevent or delay reinforcements from Kaus Borealis getting through.

The airwing callsign was Strike. Their primary mission was to take out the planetary interdictor on Kona. This would allow Acheron to jump in close to Kona and initiate a blockade and invasion of the planet. The bombers' secondary objective was to reduce the number of defenses on the planet so that the fleet's job would be easier. They could achieve this either by taking out the installations directly, or by destroying the supporting infrastructures (the quantum generators).

The two Steelhead squadrons would be providing fighter escort for the Annihilators, ensuring that they get as near as they could to the planet unmolested. After ensuring that the bombers had completed their primary mission, both the 'Stalkers and Hellhounds were to break off from the bombers and assist the task force by engaging the UGTO fleet directly.

It was going to be a furball for sure. A recent recon flyby had revealed at least 19 UGTO ships; mostly cruisers plus a few dreadnoughts and destroyers, in the cluster. The ICC had gathered 36 ships for this mission; 8 each deployed to Styx, Charon and Erebus, and 12 in Acheron, the main assault force. If the Uggies didn't take the bait set by Styx and Charon, Task Force Acheron was going to find itself very much outnumbered and outgunned, and possibly very dead too. Scans had revealed at least 2 EADs and 2 Battle Dreads in the Uggie's fleet. Thankfully there wasn't a station around, but that could change quickly if Erebus failed to successfully blockade the nearby Kaus Borealis gate.

The Admiral had wished everyone good hunting and Godspeed at the end of the briefing. The airwing crews were mostly high-fives, hoo-ahs and displaying other gestures of bravado. The Old Man knew better. He looked on solemnly as the men and women of the Ellington airwing headed out towards their respective squadron ready rooms. There was going to be a lot of empty bunks tonight after everything was over.

_________________
... in space, no one can hear you scream.....


Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black


Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
Posted: 2011-11-24 19:46   

"T-Minus 1 minute to launch. Ellington commencing jump operation in T-Minus 30 seconds", the 1MC blared. The airwing was to launch almost immediately after the battlegroup had exited from its jump near Kona. By now, Styx and Charon should have already jumped into the cluster and gotten the attention of the Uggie fleet there.

Pri-Fly comm'ed the entire airwing to standby for launch. As the last of the hangar crew cleared the spaces and sealed the hatches, the entire launch bay was depressurized. Inside Pri-Fly, the Air Boss ran through the pre-launch procedures. Each of the F-29s was already attached to its own catapult. Just like the carrier launches onboard oceangoing supercarriers back in the 21st century, they were about to be hurled off the ship. The only difference was, where a steam catapult was employed in the old days, they were now replaced by electromagnetic units. It was akin to riding a railgun. The Air Boss raised the blast deflectors behind each of the fighters, then charged up the catapults.

At the 30 second mark, everybody onboard the ship felt the familiar sensation of slight disorientation and lightheadedness as the Command Dread engaged her jump drives and went superluminal. The transit would be a short one. Sto-vok to Kona was but a short hop away; scant seconds in the era of jump drives and faster than light travel. Within 20 seconds the ship juddered slightly as the tachyon field that surrounded it collapsed and dropped the massive vessel back to sublight velocity. The Air Boss initiated the launch and the system took over. Ten seconds. The fighters automatically advanced their throttles to max, their noses dipping in response to the added thrust. Russkie's hands were off the controls. The computer would take charge until his F-29 cleared the launch bay.

At T-Minus 0 seconds the catapults fired in rapid succession, beginning with 'Stalker 1. Russkie saw Bug's Steelhead shoot off right before he was pushed back hard into his seat by the acceleration. The launch bay rushed by his peripheral vision and then he was once again out in the cold void of space. He could feel the engine cut out a second after clearing the catapult.

"Stalker Flight, Mother, Maintain vector till 30 goose out, and then proceed to Juno 1". Mother was the Ellington's CIC; Juno 1 was their first waypoint where the entire airwing would rendezvous. They pronounced GUs as goose.

"Mother, Stalker Lead, Roger", Hurricane replied.

On the Squadron net, "Stalkers, Lead, on my mark, form up and make vector for Juno 1....... Mark."

The six F-29s of the Nightstalkers Flight 1, made an abrupt 90 degree pitch up followed by a 15 second engine burn towards Juno 1. A minute after they cleared the launch "alley", Stalker Flight 2 comprising of Nightstalkers 7 through 12 catapulted out of the launch bay they had just left. A couple of minutes later, the 12 Steelheads of the Nightstalkers were formed up and headed for Juno 1 along with the other squadrons, rapidly leaving the Battlegroup behind at over 30 GU/s.

"Strike, Stalker Lead", Hurricane comm'ed over the squadron channel. "30 secs to Juno 1. Stalker will take point. Hounds cover the rear."

"Stalker Lead, Hound Lead, acknowledged, out."

The airwing began reconfiguring their formation, with the Stalkers moving ahead of the bombers and the Hellhounds reducing their velocity to take up the rear. At Juno 1, the entire airwing made another vector change towards Kona.

"Strike, Stalker Lead, Snooze." Snooze was the signal to begin EMCON procedures. They would maintain radio and radar silence until the initial point at Juno 2, or until they were detected. Hopefully they would remain undetected until they got to Juno 2.

Russkie kept an eye on his radar warning receiver, the RWR. There was a lot of radar activity out there today. He paid particular attention to his signature level just under the RWR display. So far, so good. His sig was still under the detection threshold. But he knew that would change as they got nearer to Kona.

Flipping his secondary comms to the fleet channel, he listened in as Charon began engaging the Uggies. Styx reported negative enemy contact while approaching Oceania. He frowned. That would mean that the other half of the Uggie fleet was not taking the bait. They would probably still be in Kona's orbit. Another 1500 GUs to Juno 2, the initial point. Then 1000 to Kona after that. The XB-11s would begin their bomb run at about 700 GUs, just under max range.

The RWR began showing more active radars and scanners dead ahead on the scope. It looked like about nine ships were still lingering around Kona. Not good. The fighter's computer identified the ships by their emissions and detected the presence of a SunFire-type radar. That's not good, Russkie thought. That would mean that there was either an ST-41 Carrier Dread or an ST-49 Agincourt somewhere around. He hoped it wasn't an Aggie. Those behemoths could carry up to 8 fighter wings. Capital ships they could handle, if not dodge. Enemy fighters or interceptors would ruin their day, especially for the bomber drivers.


[ This Message was edited by: Kenny_Naboo[+R] on 2011-11-25 03:22 ]
_________________
... in space, no one can hear you scream.....


Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black


Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
Posted: 2011-11-24 19:48   
1000 GUs to Juno 2; Russkie's sig spiked through the detection threshold for a second. The Uggies probably got a weak return. He wished that they had gotten some ECM support in the form of a Recon Scout or Stealth Corvette. Too bad they were all deployed elsewhere, mostly in regions where the K'Luth was the more likely threat.

600 GUs to Juno 2; two contacts on his RWR began flashing, indicating that two enemy ships had detected him. His sig passed the threshold. At that same moment, Hurricane comm'ed in "Strike, Stalker Lead. Alarm. Repeat, Alarm". Alarm was the signal to terminate EMCON.

"Stalker Lead, Five," Kiri came on the air. "Spike, bearing 315 mark 10." Kiri's RWR had indicated that enemy radar had him tracked, 315 degrees off the bow and 10 degrees above his horizontal plane.

"Stalker Lead, Roger. I'm getting spiked by multiple bandits. ID'ed as Hornets", Hurricane responded. Then she added, "Stalkers, Lead. Break off and engage bandits. Go active. Weapons free. Strike, proceed to Juno 2, Hounds stay with them." The Hellhounds and bomber group signaled their acknowledgement.

Russkie energized his radar, and then flipped the secondary channel to his wingleader, Bug. "Russkie, on me", came Bug through the channel. Russkie acknowledged as he followed Bug through her course change. The Nightstalkers broke formation and adjusted their course towards the incoming UGTO interceptors. UGTO I-19 Hornet interceptors. Bad news. These guys were armed with twin cannons and a laser beam each. The cannons were one thing, but the beams were the worrisome part. Beams didn't miss once they locked on to a target.

Entering the battlespace, Russkie read multiple bandits all over his radar scope. The enemy capships were still some ways off, but 2 squadrons of enemy fighters were incoming at less than 500 GUs away. "Stalkers, Tally Ho. Bandits 12 o'clock level at 500 goose", Hurricane's calm voice came over the air. They were still too far away to be seen by the naked eye, but in his helmet mounted display, Russkie already had the bandits reticled. He adjusted his heading while keeping one of them centered in his sights and hit the thrusters to alter his course. As they drew into cannon range, he squeezed the trigger on the control stick in his right hand while simultaneously using the strafe hat switch on his left throttle stick to slide and strafe his F-29 vertically and horizontally to jink and avoid being a static target.

Combat in space was vastly different from air combat maneuvering (ACM). You couldn't change direction instantaneously as you would in the atmosphere. Over here, they had to deal with inertia. A spacecraft going in one direction would continue going in that direction until thrust in the opposite direction was applied. So a fighter couldn't just easily roll, pitch or yaw to avoid incoming fire. Strafing was a more viable tactic. Modern space fighters handed off most of the actual thrust control to the onboard computer which then translated the pilot's inputs into movement. While the pilot himself was in charge of where the fighter would point or face, the computer tended to do more than its fair share of assisting the pilot when it came to the ship's actual heading or vector. Technically speaking, with the help of the fighter's computer you could make it fly aerodynamically but there was no tactical advantage in that. In space you could point your nose in any direction while flying in any other direction. Think like an aircraft and you were most probably dead.

Russkie tried to keep his gunsights on the lead-computed diamond symbol ahead of the target reticle. Railgun fire belched forth from his wing mounted cannons. The Hornet was jinking all over the place, not intent on going down that easily.







[ This Message was edited by: Kenny_Naboo[+R] on 2011-11-25 20:37 ]
_________________
... in space, no one can hear you scream.....


Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black


Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
Posted: 2011-11-24 19:48   


"Splash one! Splash one!", he heard Esse's jubilant voice through the comms. Something flashed by his cockpit. He couldn't tell if it was friend or foe, and couldn't care at that moment either. His attention was still on the Hornet in front of him. The Hornet was now in visual range, less than 100 GUs away. Bug wasn't far off his port bow, also busy firing on the Hornet.

The Hornet suddenly spun around to face them, moving seemingly in reverse. "Russkie, break!" Bug comm'ed. Russkie flicked the strafe hat to the right as Bug jinked to the left. The two F-29s separated almost instantly from their formation as a stream of particle cannon fire cleaved the space where they were only a second before. Russkie centered the Hornet's diamond in his sights and squeezed down on his trigger again. Flying sideways and shooting, his electromagnetically driven slugs hit home this time and shredded the Hornet from nose to tail. It vanished in an expanding ball of gas. "Splash one bandit!" he called.

Just like that. No noise, no thunder or drama. The Hornet soundlessly turned into an expanding ball of plasma and debris. Then it was gone. That was space combat. A silent ballet of twisting and turning ships spitting fire and brimstone.

No time to celebrate. Russkie pushed the throttle forward to the stops and strafed upwards as his RWR beeped and flashed an enemy lock-on. His F-29 leapt forward and upwards at the same time, narrowly avoiding a barrage of incoming particle cannon fire. The RWR indicated that he had two radar locks on him. There was a bright orange flash right outside his canopy on the right, and his helmet automatically polarized to compensate for the intensity. Russkie knew exactly what that was. Laser beam! A Hornet had locked on to him and was drilling his fighter with a beam. He pitched his nose up to reduce the angle of the beam against his hull, and then hit the retros and nudged the strafe hat all the way to the left. The beam seemed to leap off his fighter past the nose as he was thrown forwards against his harness. Then a Hornet passed by his nose. Forced overshoot! He grinned before maneuvering his fighter after the enemy interceptor.

"Mongoose, Moby, I got one on my tail", he heard Eight's voice over the air. "Can't shake him."

"Moby, Break left, break left", Seven (Mongoose) replied.

"He's still on me, get him off me. Get him off! Taking hits. I'm hit! I'm...." Moby's frantic cries was followed by static. It was all too clear what had happened. Moby had bought it. How and where, Russkie didn't know. Definitely somewhere out there in the furball.

The Hornet was less than 50 GUs away, point blank. Russkie centered it in his sights and squeezed the trigger. Another silent, expanding ball of flame appeared where the enemy fighter used to be. "Splash One bandit!"

"Lead, Mongoose, Moby is down. Repeat Moby is down. No pod", Mongoose comm'ed almost emotionlessly. No pod. The kid didn't manage to eject.

Russkie tried not to think about Moby. LT Richard... or Dick "Moby" Harrison. Only 22 and not too long out of the flight academy. Just three months into his first tour of duty; and now space dust. Kid panicked when the enemy got on his six, while Mongoose sounded almost indifferent about having his wingman waxed. But that was the stereotypical fighter pilot's tradition, wasn't it? All the way from the mid-20th century, when Yeager and the Right Stuff were still current. Dying was sometimes unavoidable, but losing your cool was inexcusable.

"Russkie, Bug, what's your status? You got beamed by the bandit", Bug came over the air. Russkie took a quick scan on his status panel. Nothing in the red. Taking a quick look out of the canopy on the right, he noticed a long scar like trail of molten metal along the right wing root leading to his cockpit. It suddenly occurred to him that he was damned lucky that the beam didn't sweep past his cockpit; otherwise he would have been cooked right where he was seated.

"Bug, Russkie, I'm good. All in the green and clean."

At that moment, the strike package arrived at Juno 2. Making their final course corrections, the XB-11s armed their bombs and started the attack run.

"Lead, Five, looks like we're gonna get some leakers", Kiri called over the squadron net. Russkie got his bearings, and then looked towards Kona. The other Hornet wing had somehow broken off from the dogfight and was headed towards the rest of the strike group.

"Strike, Stalker Lead. You got bandits incoming. Repeat, you got bandits incoming", Hurricane called out. Hellhound Lead rogered the transmission.




_________________
... in space, no one can hear you scream.....


Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black


Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
Posted: 2011-11-24 19:49   


Back in the furball, Russkie was covering Bug's ass as she was trailing and shooting at a couple of Hornets who were intent on making mincemeat out of Hurricane and Wingnut. Hurricane boosted clear through the entire furball with Wingnut riding shotgun as the Hornets chased them, spitting particle cannon fire. Bug got a lock on the trailing Hornet and finished it off with a sustained burst.

It was at that moment that Hurricane proved why she was the best flyer on the ship and CAG of the airwing. The enemy Interceptor was only 100 GUs behind her and had just begun to use its beam on her ship, when she engaged her retros full out and strafed upwards momentarily. As she cut the retros, she pitched her fighter 90 degrees nose down. The enemy beam missed her by less than a ship length. With her velocity drastically reduced, the enemy interceptor began to close the distance and overshoot. As it passed by her bow, she opened fire and raked it nose to tail at almost point blank range. The Hornet, swiss-cheesed by high velocity railgun rounds, flew on for another 50 GUs before blowing up in a silent fireworks show.

"Splash one", came Hurricane's calm, almost cold voice.

"Lead, Wingnut, good kill. That was....", a bright flash of light lit up the space above them, and suddenly Wingnut's transmission was cut off as his fighter suddenly turned into a ball of short lived plasma. Hurricane's exhaust lit up like a mini nova as she boosted away at max thrust a moment before a huge bolt hurtled through the space she just vacated. Not even taking the time to look at where the shot came from, Russkie and Bug both maxxed out their throttles while strafing around wildly to avoid whatever it was that was firing on them.

Fighting the G-forces whipping him about, Russkie craned his neck around and spotted a UGTO destroyer that had just jumped into the fray. Multiple beams suddenly lanced out from the large warship and caught 2 ships in the dogfight, turning them into roman candles. Russkie noted that Nightstalkers 11 and 12 had vanished off his scope.

"Stalkers, Lead, we got an Uggie Picket Dessie in here. Disengage. Boost out", Hurricane warned.

Yup, you could always trust the Uggies to bring a gun to a knife fight. They were outgunned, outranged and outmatched by the Picket Destroyer. No fighter craft could stand against a PD ship specifically designed to take out small craft and missiles.

"Mother, Stalker Lead, we have a hostile dessie in our battlespace. Relaying target information. Request fire mission, over", Hurricane called over the fleet channel.

"Stalker Lead, Mother, Roger. We see the bandit. Fire mission commencing. Advise you stay clear of target area, over"

"Mother, Stalker Lead, Roger wilco, out"

On the squadron net, "Stalkers, Lead, Disengage and clear the vicinity. Bruisers inbound. Repeat Bruisers inbound. Out." Bruisers indicated the approach of friendly anti-ship missiles.

Nearly 2000 GUs away, the Missile Dreadnought CSS Javelin locked on to the Picket Destroyer and let loose a full salvo of heavy Harpex missiles. It would take just under 40 seconds for the eight deadly guided projectiles to cover the distance to the destroyer.

_________________
... in space, no one can hear you scream.....


Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black


Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
Posted: 2011-11-24 19:49   


Bug and Russkie were having difficulties disengaging from the furball. It was hard to turn tail and run when doing that presented a free shot at your ass end for the enemy. Strafing all around while boosting out of the battlespace, they had at least 4 fighters on their tail. Bug did a 180 degrees end over flip, putting a Hornet in her reticle before firing of a stream of railgun slugs. The Hornet pilot was quick and managed to strafe out of the line of fire. His wingman behind was less fortunate and actually managed to stray into the line of fire instead, his ship coming apart into fragments. Before Bug could flip back into normal flight, particle cannon fire ripped into her left wing. Her wingtip was blown off, taking along with it her roll thrusters located there.

"I'm hit. Lost roll control..." Bug comm'ed to Russkie. She managed to flip her F-29 back into her direction of flight and boosted away. There were still three Hornets after them. It was clear to her that she wasn't going to make it. Her controls were getting sluggish and her status panel was blinking red, warning her of multiple systems failure. Left wing cannon inoperative. Left roll thrusters destroyed. And thruster propellant was either leaking or had ignited somewhere in the piping in the left wing. She could feel the ship trying to roll to her right even without any stick input.

"Russkie, Bug, Get out of here. I'm not gonna make it. Go!" she shouted through the comms. Particle cannon fire was streaking past her canopy. She initiated eject procedures. Russkie pulled off what could only be described as a loop-the-loop in outer space, and somehow managed to end up on the six of the pursuing Hornets. So intent were they on finishing off Bug's wounded Steelhead that they lost sight of him. He centered the trailing Hornet in his gunsights and fired, taking off its dorsal fin. It didn't kill the fighter but it sure as hell woke him up because he slid off on a perpendicular vector immediately, ending his involvement in the chase.

Busy trying to hunt down the Nightstalkers, the destroyer failed to detect the incoming salvo of Harpex until it was too late. Broadcasting a distress call, the dessie's PD managed to take out the first three incoming heavy missiles. The last five missiles managed to streak their way through, impacting into the hapless ship all along its dorsal length. Most of the Picket Destroyer UWS Windward was vaporized in the ensuing nuclear conflagration. The only evidence left of her existence was fighter sized chunks of debris expanding outwards from her last recorded location.

The remaining Hornets were distracted by the Windward's sudden distress call. That bought Bug enough time to complete her ejection. The cockpit of her F-29 sealed itself completely before explosive bolts detonated and separated the entire cockpit from the rest of the fighter. The F-29 exploded a couple of seconds later, speared through end to end by a CL beam from the enemy Hornet.

The Hornets finally broke off the attack to respond to the Windward's distress call, not yet fully aware that it had been destroyed. Russkie sent out a SAR call for Bug's pod before rejoining on Hurricane's wing. There were only seven Nightstakers left. 2, 3, 8, 11 and 12 had been taken out. Of the five, only Stalker 3, Bug, managed to eject. 42% losses, Russkie played it out in his head. Attrition at its worst. The Stalkers formed up and began flying towards the airwing.





_________________
... in space, no one can hear you scream.....


Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black


Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
Posted: 2011-11-24 19:50   


Just a few minutes back while the battle around the UGTO destroyer was going on, the Vigilantes were having their own problems. Heavy jamming from the planet was degrading their sensor range, rendering them unable to target or even detect any structures on the planet. At 700 GUs, Vigilante Lead's tactical officer was cursing and swearing as he tried to get a read off the planet's surface.

"Nothing! Too much jamming. I can't see anything. We gotta get closer", he told the pilot. The ship commander swore. First the enemy Hornets, now this. This mission could not possibly get any worse, could it? Already the Hellhounds were engaged in a struggle for survival as deadly UGTO Hornet interceptors jumped the airwing just after they passed the initial point. Now they were about to fly into planetary defense range because they couldn't get any targeting information at nominal bomb range. Frak!

"Strike, Vigilante Lead, we are strobed. Repeat, strobed. Nothing on scope. We have to get in closer, probably under 500 goose. Out."

"Dealer 12, I'm hit! I'm hit! Breaking formation", came a frantic call over the comms. What in the... Strike Lead looked at his scope. The Vigilantes were in the lead, followed by the Starhawks. The Deathdealers took up the rear. And it looked like they had company. A couple of hostiles were on the strike group's tail, closing in on the Dealers.

"Strike, Vigilante Lead. Looks like we got a couple of leakers."

Two of the enemy Hornets had broken through the Hellhounds and had attacked the trailing bombers. On the scope, the bombers started to jink to avoid being an easy target for the much faster interceptors. Deathdealer 12 disappeared off the scope, followed by 9. He watched in helpless fury as Deathdealer 6 and 3 went off the air next. They were getting murdered out here!

Suddenly, the battlespace around him started coming alive in streams of fire and explosions. He checked the scope. They were now under 500 GUs from the planet; in planetary defense range! Just outside the right viewport, Vigilante 2 took a hit from incoming fire and disintegrated in a tumbling ball of fire and debris.

"I got some returns," said Tactical, "but nothing on the dictor yet... or any gens." A few more XB-11s disappeared off the scope as the planetary defense barrage got heavier.

The pair of UGTO Hornets was having a field day. Passing through the bomber formation and killing slow and sluggish bombers was like taking candy from a baby, thought the lead Hornet pilot. His revelry was broken by his wingman blowing up and overtaking his ship from overhead.

Diving through the cloud of debris, Hurricane flipped her fighter around to face the remaining Hornet. Taking aim, she let loose another torrent of railgun fire. The Hornet, now alerted, managed to strafe and roll out of danger before turning to face her and shooting back. What he did not see was Russkie coming out of the sun, guns ablaze and firing on the dorsal side of his fighter. A well aimed burst of slugs tore through the Hornet's canopy and turned the pilot to pulp in the cockpit. The interceptor, still mostly intact, merely drifted away in an uncontrolled spin.




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Kenny_Naboo
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From: LobsterTown
Posted: 2011-11-24 19:50   

At 400 GUs, Vigilante 1's Tac Officer finally burned through the jamming and got a solid lock on Kona's interdictor and a neighboring quantum generator. He uplinked the targeting information to the rest of the strike group. The Vigilantes and Starhawks released their bombs at the interdictor facility, while the Deathdealers dropped theirs at the quantum gen.

The XB-11 strike group did an about face and began boosting out of orbital range. Not all of them made it. Nearly a third of the Vigis and Hawks were taken out by planetary defense missiles as they altered their vectors for open space.

Oblivious to the furor around them, the bombs continued their planetward journey. At 350,000 feet from the surface the bombs popped open, jettisoning their metal shrouds to reveal four cone-shaped reentry vehicles inside each of them. Every single one of those reentry vehicles carried a fusion warhead with a yield of 250 kilotons. Passing by 330,000 feet, the MIRVs separated from their bomb casings and began terminal guidance to their targets. Planetary PD managed to take out only about 30% of the incoming warheads.

Two minutes later, the first group of MIRVs detonated at an altitude of 10,000 feet over Kona's interdictor base. Multiple suns lit up the sky above the facility, searing the entire area with temperatures approaching the heart of a star. Anything or anybody that was out in the open at that moment was vaporized instantaneously. Next came the immense shockwaves. Hammer blows from an angry and wrathful God pounded the Kona interdictor base from above. The interdictor dome was smashed in almost immediately and unceremoniously flattened like a pancake. For miles around, the ground turned to glass.

Almost at the same time about 20 miles away, another group of MIRVs was coming down on one of the planet's three quantum generator facilities. The process which destroyed the interdictor base repeated itself on the quantum generator. However the effects were quite different this time. As soon as the quantum generator's main reactor was pulverized from above by the force of the nuclear explosions, it went critical and unleashed its own hell. This time, the force was directed horizontally outwards in an expanding circle of destruction reaching 30 miles out from the epicenter. The tidal wave of raw energy destroyed every single standing structure in its path; research labs, colony domes, farms, factories, everything. Nothing was left standing. Nobody survived to describe what they saw. Kona was sent into instant planetary brownout. 75% of the planet's defenses were instantly deactivated.


With the interdictor removed, the spearhead of Task Force Acheron made its second jump straight into Kona's orbit. The UGTO fleet of 9 ships was somewhat caught off guard when the dictor field suddenly dropped. The appearance of 12 ICC ships gave them a further shock. The Ellington, Javelin, and the missile cruiser CSS Artemis jumped in slightly further out to provide fire support from a slight distance. Ellington still had the task of recovering her already battered airwing.

As the bomber wing headed towards the Ellington for recovery, the Nightstalkers and Hellhounds received new orders. This time they were tasked to assist Acheron in destroying the UGTO fleet. The F-29 carried 3 Ion Tracker missiles in addition to their twin cannons. While those missiles weren't very effective against fast moving fighters, they were perfect for use against capital ships.

"Stalkers, Lead," Hurricane's voice came through the air. "Time to earn your paycheck. Primary objective achieved, proceed to secondary objective." Off in the distance they could see that the battle had begun. Heavy weapons fire could be seen about a thousand GUs away. The battle for Kona had just entered its final phase.





[ This Message was edited by: Kenny_Naboo[+R] on 2011-11-25 00:25 ]
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Joined: January 11, 2010
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From: LobsterTown
Posted: 2011-11-24 19:51   
The two fighter wings boosted straight for the fleet battle. Hurricane came on air again to remind everyone not to fly in between the capships as they slugged it out. A fighter would be blotted out of the sky like a fly if it got caught in the crossfire of the titans.

"Stalkers, Lead. Tally ho, 700 goose. Priority targets are the EAD and BD. The Aggie is next."

"Lead, Kiri. I have a tone on the EAD. Fox Two!"

Stalker 5 loosed his trio of IT missiles at the EAD only 500 GUs away. The rest of the Stalkers and Hounds targeted both the EAD and BD, calling out their Fox Two's as multiple missile trails left the combined fighter wings and streaked ahead towards the battlespace.



UWS Antietam, UGTO EAD and flagship of the 7th Corporate Battlegroup was already damaged and belching drive plasma from various hull breaches. She had fought bravely, destroying an ICC assault cruiser and driving off another border cruiser from the battle by damaging it severely. Most of their support ships had been taken out by the rebel scums’ surprise attack. Besides herself, only the Battle Dread UWS Broadsword, the Agincourt carrier UWS Canterbury, plus a couple other cruisers were left. Five ships out of nine remaining.

Admiral O'Leary, commander of the Antietam, swore a mighty oath as another salvo of Harpex from the distant rebel Missile Dread and Cruiser slammed into the torpedo cruiser off his EAD's port bow. The torp cruiser's lights went out and it began to roll before it flared briefly and broke into two jagged pieces, separating almost at the middle. They were being boxed in! Here they were engaging two ICC assault dreadnoughts and their accompanying escorts while getting pelted by missiles from those damned missile ships in the distance. He had half a mind to order a point jump on the missile ships and Command Dread just 1200 GUs away. Damned ICC cowards, pounding him from afar!

"Sir, vampires incoming!" The tactical officer screamed as scanners finally picked up the fighters' missile salvo very close in. Eighteen missiles slammed into the already heavily damaged dread, ripping out large portions of armor and hull along its ventral length. Another fifteen missiles followed a few seconds later, but targeted on the Broadsword. Damage Control reported that the Antietam had lost half of its torpedo tubes and a third of its CL beams. The Broadsword had also taken moderate damage.

He assessed the situation. The ICC fleet was still eleven strong, having lost only one ship. He was down to four. The other half of his battlegroup that had jumped to Pyron to intercept the other ICC fleet had been more or less neutralized and scattered.

It was time to cut their losses, O'Leary thought. He ordered, "Signal the fleet to execute emergency jump procedures. Have them rendezvous later back in Kaus Borealis." Tactical had earlier warned him about the blockading ICC fleet at the system gate. It appeared that they would be making multiple hops through interstellar space back to Kaus Borealis.

"You win this time, rebel scum. But we'll be back", he muttered under his breath as the Antietam winked out of the area in a flash of light.



**********************************************



Russkie reached for the bottle of vodka on his dresser as he sat up in his bunk bed. The bed above his was empty tonight. Wingnut had bought it. He poured himself a shot of the clear liquid and stared at it. No doubt the CAG was in her stateroom at that moment, typing out her "Dear Mr and Mrs whatever. We regret to inform you that..." emails. He didn't envy her position.

Fresh nuggets would be assigned to the 'Stalkers soon. Ready and raring to go. Into the wild blue yonder. To fight the good fight. To liberate mankind from tyranny. Bla bla bla and all that good stuff. He snorted in derision.

Wingnut, Moby, Stimpy, Voodoo. Nightstalkers Two, Eight, Eleven, and Twelve. He raised his glass in a silent toast to their memory, then downed it in a single gulp. Bug was in medical, due to be transferred out to the hospital ship in a couple of hours. She had been picked up by SAR about an hour after the final battle. The ejection had broken her back and she needed emergency surgery ASAP to avoid becoming a paraplegic. From what the doctors said, she would be out of action for at least a year, if she could even get back into a cockpit ever again.

Dres-Kona was theirs again, its citizens liberated from the tyranny of the UGTO. But the campaign had exacted a heavy toll on the men and women of the ICC fleet. Russkie couldn't help but wonder....

...what price victory?







[ This Message was edited by: Kenny_Naboo[+R] on 2011-11-25 21:01 ]
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From: Dres-Kona
Posted: 2011-11-25 00:37   
I have one Question for ya. Was it intentional that it sounded a lot like BSG?
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Kenny_Naboo
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From: LobsterTown
Posted: 2011-11-25 02:18   
Quote:

On 2011-11-25 00:37, Soulless *ADM* wrote:
I have one Question for ya. Was it intentional that it sounded a lot like BSG?




TBH, the few references that I consciously pulled from BSG was the word Nugget - ie FNGs. Frakkin New Guys. And the word Frak, for the obvious reasons.

But mostly, I derived the terminologies from actual aircraft carrier operations. CIC, Pri-Fly, Air Boss, Plane Captains. Add to that NATO brevity codes like Strobe, Alarm, Bruiser, etc etc. Also watched a video of an F-16 and F-18 being started up.
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Posted: 2011-11-25 04:28   
Bout tree fitty
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From: Dres-Kona
Posted: 2011-11-25 09:15   
Quote:

On 2011-11-25 02:18, Kenny_Naboo[+R] wrote:
Quote:

On 2011-11-25 00:37, Soulless *ADM* wrote:
I have one Question for ya. Was it intentional that it sounded a lot like BSG?




TBH, the few references that I consciously pulled from BSG was the word Nugget - ie FNGs. Frakkin New Guys. And the word Frak, for the obvious reasons.

But mostly, I derived the terminologies from actual aircraft carrier operations. CIC, Pri-Fly, Air Boss, Plane Captains. Add to that NATO brevity codes like Strobe, Alarm, Bruiser, etc etc. Also watched a video of an F-16 and F-18 being started up.




I have heard them. I was talking how the combat actully is in BSG and how you set it up, seems real similar to me
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From: LobsterTown
Posted: 2011-11-25 10:58   
Quote:

On 2011-11-25 09:15, Soulless *ADM* wrote:


I have heard them. I was talking how the combat actully is in BSG and how you set it up, seems real similar to me




Heh. I dunno whether to take tt as a compliment or not.

But no, I drew more inspiration from old games like Wing Commander and Freespace, and books like the Star Carrier series by Ian Douglas. TBH, I found the fighter combat in BSG quite uninteresting actually. It was the human drama and plot twists that drew me into the story. Definitely not the dogfight sequences. Star Wars does a better job.



[ This Message was edited by: Kenny_Naboo[+R] on 2011-11-25 11:02 ]
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