Tregan hissed at the bodies around him, ‘Keep moving…we need to get back to the outpost!’
Behind them, the Silakian commander approached the grouping of soldiers, his eyes narrowing as one indicated to the track, estimating the number of Trevakians at eight. Indicating for two soldiers to deal with the three wounded, he pointed forward, the grey clad Silak troops running onto the track and after their prey.
Chapter Twenty Five: Return from the Battle of the stars.
Flight Commander Anjara pulled his stick hard to the left, the silver star fighter sweeping round as laser fire swept across his wake, the black enemy fighters tearing after him across space. Gritting his teeth, the jet swept back to the right, the three Morgon craft mirroring his manoeuvre as he drew nearer the space station.
The trick was cunning, draw the enemy into the flight of their lives and bring them under the range of the powerful space station flak guns. The dangers were high…the Morgon pilots outnumbering their foe but over keen to add a Viper pilot to their tally of kills, playing into Anjara’s favour once more…he just had to stay alive long enough for the space station guns to hit their targets.
His radio clicked as the fighter swept towards the enormous orbiting station, flashes and flames extending across its smooth surface as bright laser energy poured outwards. The voice boomed in his ears, ‘Number Three coming to assist Sir, bank right for a fly past, I will target your mark!’
The Flight Leader smiled fleetingly, accelerating further towards the space station as the massive imposing structure ahead began to fill his canopy. The silver craft surged forward, flashes from explosions lighting up his cockpit as the laser blasts from the pursuers swept past. One Morgon peeled away as he realised the danger, the radios burbling as blue flak fire from the station’s guns poured out towards them.
Anjara’s craft bucked as one of the craft behind imploded, the black fighter flying into several bursts from the flak guns and disintegrating under the energy pulses. The blast and debris swept outwards, clattering against the Viper’s hull as the craft swept onwards, the incensed pursuer behind firing continuously at the Flight Leader’s vessel.
Gritting his teeth, Anjara banked right sharply, dangerously exposing the craft to fire, but considering the manoeuvre was unpredictable and likely to confuse the Morgon pursuer as blue laser light swept past his canopy.
The Morgon’s eyes widened as he moved to pursue, shock overcoming him as he glimpsed the oncoming silver vessel, the front laser guns blazing as the Trevakian pilot’s targeting systems began to pulse, the guns locked onto their target.
The black craft rose up slightly, smoke pouring form a damaged engine as the blasts hit home, the station flak guns above pouring high energy bolts towards the stricken craft as the enemy pilot ejected, the flash as his canopy opened preceding the belch of flame that engulfed the fighter as it disintegrated.
The figure hung in space, the charge under his seat projecting his body upwards and away from the exploding craft. The station flak guns poured steam, their automatic targeting spewing more energy bolts from the station, tearing through the figure as the Morgon tried to direct his simplistic controls away from the debris flying around him.
Anjara clicked the microphone, his number three circling once more as explosions impacted against the upper hull of the space station, ‘Move to the far side…let’s regroup and complete a sweep of their drop ships…’
The speakers clicked in his ears, a voice burbled, ‘Number Four has taken a hit Sir…she’s heading for Alexion One’s loading bay…there are now three of us left!’
The flight leader shook his head in frustration, realising they losses were now becoming critical, ‘Very well, regroup at the far side and we will re-join the fight. Number Two should find us again shortly.’
He glanced out of the cockpit, seeing several silver craft sweep by below, heading out to engage the Morgons as their flight leader spurred them on. The flashes from above lit up against the fighters’ hulls as they began to climb, finally disappearing off to his left as his own craft shot along the side of Alexion One. The massive station rose up into space, his eyes glancing across the scorched hull as flak guns spun round, following his craft and firing out behind, their muzzles flashing as bolts of sheer blue energy tore out towards the enemy craft.
Lights flickered up and down the space station hull, the numerous sensors gathering information from across space and updating the computers on the bridge with detail, the reduced crew struggling to keep their commander informed of escalating events. Explosions rocked the upper levels, Morgon shock troops butchering the defending crew as they advanced across the levels, the station craft personnel fighting for their survival.
Anjara wondered how long the station above could hold out, without which the planet below was surely lost. Survivors could hide in the many mountains, their rations slowly depleting until they were hunted down by a vicious prey, their lives stubbed out mercilessly and with the utmost violence. He gritted his teeth, seeing flashes against the atmosphere below as damaged fighters re-entered orbit in desperation to escape the Morgon pursuers.
Clicking his microphone again, his seared and burnt jaw tensed, the flight suits anaesthetic beginning to run out as his body burns began to ache and itch. He drew breath, then spoke softly, ‘Vipers to me…we sweep the upper atmosphere and clear the enemy craft from that sector. Our fighters are struggling to gain orbit from below and return…they are out of range of most of the station guns.’
The silver craft swept upwards, twisting in the space behind the station as two more fighters soared with it, the ‘V’ formation seeming to hang in space before flipping and shooting downwards, the lights from the station flashing across their scorched silver hulls. The electronic warning lights lit up across their cockpits, the female voice seeming stern, ‘Planet atmosphere approaching…adjust your descent…’
The flight leader clicked his microphone, his tone determined, ‘Level and sweep forward…take them all down!’
The two clicks reverberated in his ears as the craft shot forward, the hulls bouncing on the upper atmospheric ring as they swept through the debris of destroyed satellites and space rock. Banking right, Anjara glimpsed four black craft ahead, their pilots seeking crippled Trevakian fighters to finish off. The flight leader’s proximity lights flashed, his fingers moving to the firing button as he clicked once more, ‘Follow my lead…take them out!’
He twisted the stick, the fighter spinning as he pushed the acceleration, the engines behind screaming as laser bolts swept outwards. The first Morgon craft exploded violently, debris crashing against the flight leaders hull as he tore through the explosion, bearing down on the second craft as the enemy pilot glanced round in alarm, his breath sucked in as the fireball swept through his cockpit, incinerating him instantly.
Anjara banked left, the craft spinning once more as he bounced the second Morgon flight, the black craft sweeping upwards in alarm as the silver flashes screamed through their formation. Explosions rocked the Viper craft, two more Morgon craft disintegrating as the Trevakian pilots’ adrenalin soared.
The surviving black craft sent out radio signals, the snake emblem emblazoned on the silver fighter fuselage conveyed to the fighters above and their group leader. Fifteen enemy fighter peeled off from a new approaching formation, their steep banking followed by a spiral descent as they accelerated towards the last reported location of the Trevakian elite squadron.
Anjara’s earpiece buzzed, ‘Flight Leader…Number Three is hit! Descending into atmosphere and back to base…one engine burnt out and hull damage…’
The Flight leader bit his lip, his voice breaking, ‘Stay low…no heroics…make it back safely.’ He sighed, his voice rising with emotion, ‘Remaining flight…you are now my number two…move up on my tail, let’s take more down!’
The startled voice burbled in his ear, ‘Affirmative Flight Leader…enemy ahead…’The voice broke, then surged back into his earphones, the
tone rising in fear, ‘Multiple enemy sightings behind…in pursuit…Flight Leader…over fifteen craft incoming! Shall we return to base?’
Flight Leader Anjara swore under his breath, his eyes checking the screen below and seeing the flashing red proximity lights gaining as he glanced round, seeing the silver craft on his right wing. Clicking his microphone, he grinned with adrenalin, raising a hand to wave in his cockpit, ‘Follow my lead number two…maximum speed into the next formation we find, then sweep low to the left. They will expect us to head for Morasat, so we will head back to Alexion One, try and draw them onto the station guns…’
A nervous voice of the inexperienced flyer surged through his earpiece, ‘Affirmative Flight Leader…I will follow your lead…’
Anjara grinned, his adrenalin soaring as he thought of the Morgon pilots behind, their excitement at attacking a small formation of two as he saw the glint of four ships ahead, slightly below. Pushing is stick forward, then to the right, the craft bounced violently as he touched the outer atmosphere then spun the silver fighter and turned in a wide arc, the static surging along his guns as he swept onwards towards the Morgon vessels.
Chapter Twenty Six: The Villages to the East
Rees clambered wearily from the basement of the low one story house, the cold air enveloping him as he reached street level. The snow was still falling heavily, his hand running across an unshaven chin as he stared out into the bleak daylight. Gunfire from the outskirts of the village echoed around him, his head lowered in despondency as the memories of the night swept back into his mind.
Jozefina had slowly awoken him outside the makeshift medical buildings and they had walked together arm in arm around the village seeking refuge until they were advised to enter a building that the soldiers were leaving from. The unit they witnessed departing being deployed to the east of the encircled town.
He was exhausted, the deep sleep he had experienced haunted by nightmares. The contorted and pained faces of his missing colleagues, screams of the wounded and dying and finally the vision that had awoken him abruptly…the black staring helmet with red glowing eyes inspecting him as he slept, the fetid breath filling his nostrils and causing him to almost wretch. The overpoweringly tall figure had stared at him for some time as he twisted and turned in his sleep, sweat pouring from his body as his breath became short and sharp, his terror rising as the Morgon simply stared at him from inches away.
His drenched body had shaken him awake, the half-darkness of the cellar confusing him initially as his breath was strained, glancing slowly and fearfully around in terror for the Morgon he had experienced in his nightmare. Slowly his vision had become focussed in the dim light, his eyes inspecting the smeared and dirty surroundings for any sign of the nightmare figure, his breathing becoming slowly more relaxed as reality forced the dull and confused sleepiness from his mind. Eventually satisfied there were no enemy soldiers in the room amongst the slumbering allied troops, he forced himself upwards, a dull sickening pain sweeping across his temples as he remembered the situation they were in…cut off with seemingly thousands of vicious enemy soldiers encircling them.
Rees stared out over the snow covered street, several Trevakian soldiers marching past with rifles held at waist height, their heads glancing round nervously as muffled gunfire resounded in the distance. One storey buildings lined the thoroughfare, his eyes staring at the smeared grey walls and weathered shuttered windows as the soldiers rounded the end of the street. Several dull thumps indicated explosions as a mortar battery fired out from the village, the high explosive shells dropping onto the enemy front lines in the distance.
He stiffened as two sharp cracks rang out, snipers firing from the roofs of the two storey buildings on either side claiming victims in the dull early afternoon light. Glancing upwards, two flares exploded in the sky, their pulsing light sweeping across his vision as they gradually fell to earth, the cold breeze blowing them away from the village. The clouds seemed to be thickening, a wind blowing from the west carrying a snow storm towards the isolated hamlets, scattered snowflakes beginning to fall to earth as the grey clouds moved overhead.
Rees sighed, grinning as he thought of his car in the staff carpark, his mental reminder to pick up some windscreen wash on the way home from work seeming totally irrelevant and very distant now. He chuckled, his mobile phone even left on charge in the staff restroom, the full light battery probably flashing now with a screen vibrating with numerous texts from his family. He tensed as he felt the combat uniform inflate slightly, the sensors responding to the dropping temperature as more flakes landed in the street before him.
Eight more Trevakians marched round the corner, their faces covered with scarves and visors lowered. A couple nodded a greeting to him, one patting his stomach and smiling as Rees lowered himself to sit on the steps, hunching his shoulders as the cold began to bite against his exposed skin as he ran a hand through matted hair. He smiled faintly to himself as he watched the colours on his combats slowly transform from darker shades to white with light grey streaks, the uniform adapting to the climate around him.
He spun round as shuffling behind startled him, his eyes straining as Jozefina emerged from the basement steps, her eyes sparkling in the light as she held out his helmet, ‘Put this on Rees, it will keep your head warm…now where’s my coffee?’ She extended a hand to him expectantly, grinning as he stared in stunned bewilderment at her.
Rees slowly took the helmet from her and slipped it over his head, feeling the insides vibrate slightly as it slid into position. Jo handed him his assault rifle as he slowly rose, slinging the weapon over his shoulder as he smiled grimly at his supervisor, ‘Do you think we will get out of this mess?’
Jozefina shrugged, her jaw tensing, ‘That’s not something we should be too concerned about…what will happen will happen. Besides, I quite like it here…think about it…it’s cold and miserable…so much so, no one is moaning about the weather. There is no traffic to get stuck in and we have no shift start times!’ She grinned as Rees smiled, ‘Just remember…you can’t be late for work here!’ Jo continued, ‘Ok…the enemy does not like us very much and seem pretty vicious, but they have not won yet and we have some of the best troops in the galaxy here!’
Rees giggled as she slapped his shoulder, his stress easing, ‘I suppose it could be worse…though I cannot imagine those circumstances easily.’
Jozefina closed her hand, punching him gently on the arm, ‘That’s the spirit…now let’s see if we can find something to eat around here, my stomach is rumbling. We have not eaten since yesterday now…don’t you remember?’ She slipped her helmet over matted blonde hair and stepped past him, slipping her rifle over her right shoulder as she stepped down into the snow, ‘It’s a bit like Slovakia here…cold and snowing…let’s hope their stew is as good!’ She turned, glancing expectantly at him, ‘I am desperate for a warm shower…’ She turned, her head dropping to one side, ‘Funny how you take stuff for granted until it’s gone!’ She stiffened, ‘Come on…food time…have you brought your staff concession card?’
Rees grinned widely, his eyes widening in surprise, ‘Actually I have got it on me…’ He indicated to the left, ‘I think the canteen or mess hall is that way, several troops have come past from there.’
Rees scraped the bottom of his green tin, slipping the spatula into his mouth as his eyes closed in satisfaction, ‘That was good! I feel a lot better now after my beef stew and dumplings…’ He glanced at Jozefina, ‘What did you have again?’
Jo licked her own utensil, glancing round the narrow basement at the other soldiers eating, ‘Some sort of stew…it was ok. Not bad for tinned food…I had the blue one!’
He smiled, sipping from his canteen, ‘So who do we report to now? What do you think we will be doing?’
Jozefina shrugged, raising her hands and stretching, a stifled yawn spreading across her face, ‘I suppose we had better go and find that Lieutenant Kim of the South Koreans. He will know if there are a
ny others left and find us something to do.’ She grimaced, her eyes darkening, ‘We will check on Mason later…though I don’t think he will have survived.’
They spun round as a soldier burst breathlessly from the stairs, his uniform caked in dirt, eyes wide with shock, ‘All available soldiers to the eastern defences, the enemy is massing for an attack. They have dropped smoke all along their line and are moving up…get your weapons ready and move now!’ Muffled artillery broke out above, the shells exploding across the village as an initial barrage dropped to earth.
Rees sprung to his feet, Jozefina scrambling up next to him as all the soldiers in the room grasped their rifles and ran for the stairs, the female supervisor turning to her male colleague as they lunged towards the steps, ‘It looks like this is our planet now! Earth is now just a distant memory!’
Chapter Twenty Seven: End of the Viper Fighter Wing
The two sleek silver craft swept round the left side of an asteroid field, flashes from the upper Morgon battleship guns lighting up their cockpits as the blast screens automatically deployed. Rock debris splattered against their hulls, the clanks and metallic impacts causing the two pilots to jump, their craft sweeping from side to side violently as they desperately attempted to avoid the explosions and shattered rock.
Laser lights flashed through the blast screen slits, the cockpit warning lights flashing alarmingly with the proximity of the rocks and debris, the warship guns above blasting into the asteroid field in attempts to destroy the elite Trevakian fighter wing.
Behind them two Morgon fighters smashed into the upper atmosphere, their burning craft igniting further as the pilots lost control, their vessels breaking up in the enormous pressure applied to the damaged hulls.
Flight Leader Anjara winced at the pain sweeping through his body, his adrenalin soaring as the display lights on his screen indicated over twelve Morgon fighters were pursuing them, his earpiece buzzing once more, ‘Flight Two sustaining damage, losing altitude commander…attempting to re-enter atmosphere on your command…’
The Red Leopards of Zaxon B (Galaxies Collide Book 2) Page 21