Takeoff procedure was not as complicated as commandeering the AFU in combat. The fighters would be released from the latches, then stepping on the catapult. Once locked on the catapult, the pilot would prime the AFU's engines and the controller would release the catapult, launching the unit into space. Larger ships usually stored up to four to six AFU squadrons, consisting of six to ten units each, led by a naval lieutenant or a Marine captain, with about three to four launching bays. However due to the Terrentius’ size and function, the launching bay was limited to one. It took less than a few minutes to fully mobilize a squadron, and being well-drilled and experienced, the pilots followed in the procedure.
The hangar depressurized and the bay door was opened. The crewmen had previously put on their exosuits and breathing apparati, so the change of atmosphere was not unwelcoming.
Ensign Deschamps was first to be launched. Her AFU/Defender, painted gray with navy blue highlights, stepped onto the catapult and primed her engines to maximum. Norican, who was behind her, heard through radio the launching sequence. “Tiger Charlie, Tiger Charlie, this is Reaper 02. Launching.”
The blue flames burst. The catapult ejected. Reaper 02 was off the ship and in the void.
Norican released his unit from the latches, and smartly landed onto the catapults. He locked the bottom of the unit’s feet on the catapult. He pushed the throttle. The OD Green Dagger, scarred with burn marks and saber slashes, ignited its engines. His had a large pack on his back containing the energy source to power the railgun, a long, nearly rectangular cannon with a grip and a sight, which was firmly locked in the steely grips of the Dagger.
“Tiger Charlie, this is Reaper 03.” He said. “Launching.”
“Roger, Reaper 03. Godspeed. Out.”
Then, the catapult mechanism worked itself. There was an intense change of gravity within the cockpit. Norican felt being sucked into his seat as the Armored Fighting Unit ejected into space. The once gray-white interior changed into black, glittered with stars and surrounded by the destroyed husks of the long-gone, long-dead space colonies. Putting the controls in hand, he pushed his thrusters upwards and quickly regrouped with Deschamps.
The two units landed upon the skeleton of a destroyed transport ship. They looked upon the massive structures, now destroyed and slowly abrading into space dust, long and forgotten like so many other things in this vast, endless universe.
Sophie’s voice came in the intercom as they enjoyed the view. “Wonder how it felt to live here. Before the war.”
“Just like any other colony, I suppose.” Norican said. “But there it is, the way of the universe. The rule of nature. Who that is not strong enough, not clever enough, was doomed to be destroyed. Sadly, that is what humanity – as much as we want to go against nature itself – has fallen into. War and savagery.”
She uttered a chuckle. “You’re quite the philosopher, technical sergeant.”
“I suppose I am.”
A few minutes passed by, and the rest of the squadron launched. Lieutenant Jensen went in the squadron radio. “Break-break to all Reapers, this is Reaper 01. Proceed with plan. Reaper 02, 03, and 06 will go through the ruins on the Terrentius’ portside, the rest go with me. Report once in view of the target vessel. For now, they are Bogey One and Bogey Two. I’ll pin them up on the map. Godspeed. Out.”
“You heard the man,” said Deschamps. “Norican, Oakley, on my arse.” Without delay, she jumped off the ruined transport ship and ignited her thrusters towards the waypoint.
Norican grinned. “Any day, Reaper 01.”
The two Daggers followed suit, launching themselves behind their leader. Petty Officer 2nd Class Miles Oakley, Lazarus Alliance Navy, and Norican formed a right echelon behind Deschamps before encountering the first set of large husks. They went through a destroyed colony. Navigating through it, they encountered the ruins of what would have been a children’s playground by a destroyed school, a set of destroyed buildings, and a ship that must’ve run crashed and burned when it was shot down, as what was left of it protruded out of the colony’s surface. It was dark. What glimmers of light existed came through the holes in the colony walls.
Colonies were essentially colossal, tubular-shaped space stations which had its own artificial gravity (made using centrifugal force, hence the cylindrical shape of the colonies), its own day/night cycle, and rotated on a 24-hour basis. It was almost like life on Earth. Air was fresh, skies were artificially blue, crops grew and populations flourished. Norican himself grew in colonies like these, only them being located in the Hrasvlegr system.
The two Bogeys came closer and closer as they navigated through the dead colony, and as they reached an opening close to the other end of the colony, the signal was just below them.
“We’re getting close.” Deschamps said.
“Roger.”
Jensen came in. “Reaper 02, 01. Once you’ve identified Bogey One and Bogey Two, Tiger Charlie insists you open fire. How copy?”
“Lima-charlie, Reaper 01. You got that, Reaper 03?”
“Wilco. With extreme prejudice. Over.”
“Roger.”
As they reached the opening, a large hole in the husk of the colony, Deschamps boosted forward and put a hand to the edges to balance herself. She shared her feed with her two squadmates. She scanned the surroundings, and the heat readings on her lenses showed two space craft moving at a careful speed, going through the rocks and debris.
Smart, thought Norican. Going through debris so we couldn’t get a clear shot.
The colors were clear, however. The two ships were a corvette and a minesweeper, God knew what they were doing here.
“Reaper 01, this is Reaper 02. I have visual on the two Bogies. We identify two Dominion ships, but we don’t have a clear shot. Repositioning, over.”
What if we get close enough, but far enough to not be affected by the blast? Thought Norican.
“Reaper 02, this is Reaper 03… I suggest we make a blitz move, close in to the two ships and take them out close enough that we don’t miss. I know it isn’t like we have one shot, ma’am, but I can manage. Over.”
“Reaper 03, I’ll relay it to Reaper 01. Wait One.”
A few moments passed by. His earpiece crackled again. “One shot from those proton cannons and you’re done, along with millions of credits of equipment, Ryck. You willing to take that risk?”
“Roger that.” He said stoically.
“Wait One, Reaper 03.” She said, and paused. “Alright. You take lead.”
“Roger. On me.” Norican said.
“Solid copy.” She said.
Norican quickly dashed away from the opening and pushed the throttle to 80 percent, exploding away down the destroyed colony. “Try to keep up. Out.”
The other two barely managed to follow him. Swinging through debris past debris, Ryck Norican launched himself through the destroyed colony. Before anyone knew it, he was just one and a half nautical miles away from the two ships.
“This is close enough.” He said. He configured the controls. The railgun charged up.
“Reaper 03, this is Reaper 01. In position. We’ll take Bogey Two. The Corvette is yours.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
Slowly, the two ships passed into view. Radar hadn’t caught up with the Lazarus Daggers. Stealth technology was mounted on the AF-24B, which was managed by creating a dense field of Taurus particles around them, blocking out even the most advanced types of remote detection. This often caught enemy ships by surprise, and with no countermeasure in place, in the last several months Taurus Stealth fields had been the bane of not only Dominion shipping lanes, but also to lone and small squadrons of Dominion naval ships.
With the railgun charged, Norican lowered his unit onto a rather flat and steady surface protruding from the destroyed colony. He locked his feet on it. Hidden by rocks, he lowered his aiming visor – a square screen put in front of the eyes to maximize aiming efficiency. The crosshair and the target twirled around each other for a few moments. Beep. Beep. Beep.
“This is Norican. Locking on.” He took a deep breath, and held it.
Beebeep Beebeep Beebeep. Norican put his finger on the trigger.
Beebeep Beebeep Beebeep. He half squeezed it.
Beeeeeeeeep.
“I have a lock. Guns, Guns, Guns."
At the blink of an eye, and at the squeeze of the trigger set on the control stick between his legs, the railgun ignited. A large beam-like streak was emitted, as the projectile flew at a flash. Space was void of noise, but not of action and reaction. He could feel the unit being pushed back by the massive recoil of the gun, but the power released from it, to Norican, was supreme satisfaction.
There was an explosion from the impact. Then a secondary. The Corvette began to lose control, as fire and smoke came out of the damage holes. It was almost like slicing butter with a hot knife, Norican thought.
“Open fire, open fire!” Deschamps said over the radio, and all hell broke loose.
Tracers of 40mm autocannon rounds headed towards the damaged ship. Norican charged his railgun again. It took ten seconds, and he sat there as it did. However, before the gun charged up, the corvette went out of sight. “Goddammit!” he said. “I’m going after it!”
He unlocked his legs and boosted himself away. He went after the corvette. Not long after, he had visual. He put his visor down and locked on. The Engines!
Beep. Beep. Beeeeeeeeep.
He squeezed the trigger. The gun ignited. The recoil changed the course of his motion, pushing his unit away from where he fired. However, the delivery was superb. Another direct hit, and right from the engine through to the roof of the vessel. The vessel ignited. Its magazine was hit, and it burst in flames, and crashed into the husk of a destroyed cruiser.
It exploded. In the chaos, and amidst the adrenaline, the radio flared up.
“All Reapers, damage report?”
“Good hit, good hit. Outstanding shot.”
“Good shooting. Damn!”
“Wooohooo!”
“Kill confirmed for Mister Norican. One Corvette lost to the stars.”
Norican sat in his cockpit and thought as he saw the awesome destruction of yet another Dominion ship. Another one lost to the stars, eh? Another life turned to stardust. Another hunk of lifeless metal in the vasts swathes of the universe. Another meaningless death in a seemingly unending war. I sit here an instrument of fate, a tool of nature, to bring life or death upon hundreds of souls, souls that matter not, lost or saved, among the hundreds of thousands, among the millions who have died in this childishly illogical war.
“Hope they stop coming, lads.” He said through the radio. And with that the end of this conflict.
Jensen cut it off. “Save the celebrations for later. We’re heading back. Tiger Charlie, Tiger Charlie, we have disposed of the two Bogeys. We are now RTB. Out.”
***
ns 15.158.61.20da2
