Birds of a Feather
Posted on Thu Oct 15th, 2015 @ 3:19am by Commander Elliot Drake & Captain Melody Windsor & 2nd Lieutenant Robert Lancaster & Staff Warrant Officer Meroka Setan [R. Lancaster]
Mission:
First Strike
Location: Above Torros III
"This is Lieutenant Commander O'Conner to Commander Drake," the Flight Leader said through the communications frequency that the shuttles, fighters, and the runabout were all linked to. "Red Flight is in escort position and ready for atmospheric entry."
Drake found his leg bouncing out of nerves and anticipation as their shuttles approached the planet. With the loss of the Baltimore still fresh on his mind, he couldn't help but fear that they may soon suffer the same fate. Elliot was roused from his thoughts by O'Conner's message. "Drake here. Copy that. Keep your eyes open. We'll provide as much sensor support as we can."
Bobby listened to the chatter as he banked his fighter through a turn as the ships angled up for the descent into the atmosphere of Torros III. He kept himself off the open line for now so his voice wouldn't add to the orders and confirmations being passed around. "Weapons check, Meroka," the pilot said in a calm voice but one loud enough that it would be heard over the noises of a dogfight. He breathed slow and smoothly.
The Bajoran sitting behind him breathed in unison, and answered a moment later, "Phaser cannons hot. Torpedos armed and primed for launch. We're good to go, sir."
"Copy that," Elliot Drake replied from his shuttle command center. It was about to get rough. "Captain Windsor, escort is standing by. Are you ready to descend?"
"In the pipe, five by five. Take us down, Commander," Melody replied over the comm.
The line of small ships continued their descent towards Torros III, from a distance appearing like a line of winking jewels falling towards the planet. Red Flight had taken point, ahead of the Marine dropships and Commander Drake's runabout, while the other fighters were arrayed in a protective cylinder around and behind the shuttles. The lead fighters began to glow slowly but with ever increasing brightness as they plunged into the atmosphere in as steep of an angle as the shuttlecraft behind them would be able to manage, leaving hot plasma contrails in their wake. A second behind them the dropships began to heat up as they too began the atmospheric breaking that was part of the planned descent. By coming in as fast as they could manage, the Starfleet personnel hoped to strike hard and quick.
Shuttles and fighters alike bucked in the intense wind currents and thermal layers of the atmosphere. On many of the ships consoles sparked as inertial dampening systems and structural integrity were pushed to their maximum ratings, but they held together. Since they learned of their orders the skilled mechanics and flight crews back on board the Manoora had worked their asses off round the clock to make sure these ships would be able to handle all that was demanded of them. With equally skilled pilots at the helm, this fiery dive towards the planet's surface was a metaphorical sword thrust at their enemy.
As the fighters leveled off and guided the ships that followed out of the clouds, dropping ever lower till they almost hugged the contours of the land beneath them to avoid defencive batteries, the roar and crackling faded till the pulsing sounds of engines and the howl of the winds became dominant. There was no attack, however, and as the flight neared their target the silence of the Cardassians grew more and more ominous.
"Stay sharp," Lieutenant Commander O'Connor said over the comms, not just to his own squadron but to all the other ships that followed. The seasoned pilot scanned the skies with his dark eyes, watching for any sign of the enemy when the sensors showed absolutely nothing. "They must've seen that crazy ride we took down here, they know we're coming..."
-----
The rest of the approach had gone smoothly. Too smoothly. There was no incoming fire from the planet's surface, no enemy fighters scrambled to intercept them, not even an angry Cardassian voice on the comms to demand to know what they were doing. Just blue skies, a few clouds, and a startled flock of what passed for birds on this planet as the ships made their screaming descent. Just five minutes after they'd entered the atmosphere and the fighter escort began to peel back from the formation, leaving the shuttles free.
"Dropships, you're clear," O'Connor said. "Good hunting. Red Flight, begin scanning enemy installation for possible targets of interest. Might as well do something while we're down here."
"Thanks for the date. We'll have to do this again some time," Melody quipped into the mic with a grin.
Bobby turned to look out the cockpit of his fighter as the first of the shuttles touched down on the planet's surface. The young man had a grin on his face; everyone had gotten down without any problems. For all his bravado, Bobby would rather it like this. No one hurt, the mission proceeding perfectly. Boring meant things were safe even if he was sure Meroka's trigger finger was itching for some paybacks against the Cardassians.
"Anything on sensors that looks like it should go boom, Meroka?" Bobby asked, the smile plain in his voice.
"Oh, plenty, sir," his TacOps replied. "But I assume you want me to hold fire while we have people down there, right?"
"Well, it might be fun to see the grunts running like startled ducks if you fired a couple of phaser blasts over their heads..."
"Not funny, Lieutenant."
Elliot monitored the sensors from his runabout. He didn't do much to join into the chatter, and instead just listened intently, trying to understand the slang used by some of the pilots. It was going to take a lot of getting used to, he decided, just before the proximity alarms sounded. "Red Flight, we're detecting incoming fighters, bearing 165 mark 049 from my position."
Sure enough, just as Drake reported, three sets of fighters approached from behind. Clinging close to the buildings below, they had used the interference to hide their approach. Now that they were out in the open the were exposed, but by now they had already fired their first salvo.
As soon as the warning came through, the pilots of Red Flight made a sharp turn up and to starboard. It wasn't fast enough though. The shields of the fighters glowed as they were pounded by phaser fire. "Break formation!" O'Connor ordered and he and the Lancasters split onto different headings to stop providing such a tightly bunched target. "Pick your targets and engage."
Now that all the waiting was over, Bobby had put aside the jokes and the boredom. They belonged to someone else. His fighter shot forward as he kicked in half the auxiliary thruster output, sending him head on towards one of the Cardassians. Meroka lit the enemy up with their own phaser cannons, the two of them knowing what the other was going to do without needing to speak. Bobby's fighter rocked as it took a few hits but the manoeuvre had taken the other pilot off guard. At the last moment, as the Cardassian's shields began to weaken under the barrage, they acted fast.
Bobby rotated all the fighter's shields to the rear, leaving them exposed to the Cardassian phasers for just a moment but they took no hits. At the same time he slammed the thrusters to the max, pressing himself and Meroka back into their seats so hard their flight suits had to maintain their blood pressure. Meroka launched a single torpedo which pierced right through the enemy's shields and detonated as it struck the Cardassian cockpit. The force Bobby's fighter, sent them spiralling at even higher speeds up into the sky as they rode the wake of the explosion.
The gold Cardassian fighters were proving to be rather nimble, and were holding their own against their Starfleet counterparts. But a pair broke from the formation and targeted the runabouts, sending cannon blasts towards the vastly less maneuverable shuttles. Drake's shuttle rumbled his shields absorbed a blow, but the runabout in front of them was not so lucky, taking a direct hit to their starboard engine. Elliot braced himself on the bulkhead and shouted orders to the shuttle's crew. "All shuttles, target those fighters. Lay down suppressing fire." Another shock hit his shuttle. "We could use some help here, O'Connor!"
"Roger," came O'Connor's voice, though it was strained. The squadron leader was pulling such a tight loop that the g-forces threatened to make him black out. "Red 2, on me. Red 3, get your ass back down here." There was a mixture of annoyance and amusement in his tone at the last.
"On our way!" Bobby replied, his fighter high in the sky but plummeting down to rejoin the fight.
The two fighters broke off their engagement of the Cardassians they had been targeting and flew towards the shuttles. Though they were armed and shielded, the shuttlecraft couldn't hold up to fighters for long. The runabout was a powerhouse, but less manoeuvrable and that made it vulnerable as well. For a moment, the suppression fire was working, but the Cardassian fighters would find a pipe and make their way through.
"Concentrated fire, Red Two, target Beta-3, on my mark," O'Connor said while his TacOps watched as the range counter ticked down rapidly. Long seconds passed as Red Flight made its way closer, and closer. And at last, "Mark!"
Starfleet phaser cannons began to pulse, sending out scintillating orange bolts to hammer the shields of one of the Cardassian fighters. The shields began to glow slightly as the pilot made evasive manoeuvres but they kept with him. Then they began to run through the colours of the spectrum around the area being hit till they were purple, nearly transparent. The Cardassian pilot sent his fighter into a desperate dive just before his shields dropped, but the Starfleet fighters launched a torpedo each. They slammed against the weakened shields and part of their antimatter explosion made it through. The Cardassian's engines burst into flame and the fighter began to fall uncontrolled. That was one down, but another fighter was still harrying the shuttles.
"Commander Drake," O'Connor said as he and Red 2 wheeled about. "I don't know what's up with these Cardassians, but they've never had this kind of shield strength before."
"They've also never been a part of the Dominion before, Commander," Drake fired back over the turbulence hitting his shuttle. "I wouldn't be surprised if the Jem'Hadar offered them more than a few improvements to their weapon systems."
Even as they had spoken, the Starfleet fighters had driven off the second Cardassian fighter from attacking the shuttle convoy, but had neither disabled or destroyed it. The other Cardassians had recovered from Red Flight breaking off and were on their way back now and were once again about to outnumber the Starfleet formation. A few moments before they made contact with each other again, Red Three swept down from above and took his spot towards the rear.
"Nice of you to join us," O'Connor said dryly, but didn't actually reprimand the young pilot. He had take out one of the two enemies so far.
"Sorry, sir, ready to engage," Bobby called back over the comms.
Almost as soon as the words were out, phaser fire lit up the sky again like orange lightning. The glow from impacted and weakening shields made the bottom of the cloud cover blue and purple. The roar of engines was like thunder. Red Flight weaved and evaded more than they could attack, making it as hard for the Cardassians to hit them as possible but keeping them busy enough trying to hit the Peregrine fighters that the shuttles would go unscathed for now. It was only a stalling tactic, and one that would soon see them losing however.
"Red Flight, starburst pattern," O'Connor ordered. His flight immediate responded, flying nearly wingtip to wingtip, cockpits facing inwards to the central point between them. It wasn't just an insanely difficult manoeuvre to attempt in space, here in the atmosphere where wind currents and turbulence threatened them all being within ten meters of one another it was insane. This was what Starfleet pilots were all about though, and if the captain wanted to make an issue of it being illegal...
"Now!" The fighters all pulled away from each other, heading in different directions, while each fired afterburners to ignite the plasma trail behind them. It was far less spectacular than when a flight of five managed it in space, but the results were still flashy. The plasma was a brilliant explosion in the sky that caught two Cardassians in the blast that had been heading straight for them. Their shields popped, their hulls blackened, and their electronics sparked. Then there were four down on the other side.
"Good job, Red Flight!" O'Connor called out. "Attack pattern-"
"Sir, you got two on your six!" Bobby interrupted, catching the enemy by sight while sensors tried to realign themselves after the interference from the detonation. He and Red Two banked hard, trying to come to his aid, but both were set upon by the Cardassians. Red Two was the first to break off, taking his fighter into a steep spiral. Bobby kept on.
"Uh, sir," Meroka said as their fighter bucked and shuddered under the assault on them. "Shields down to 50%...40%..."
"Almost got it," Bobby said through gritted teeth, watching the range counter ticking down. Ahead of him, O'Connor's fighter was pulling tight and sudden turns, but the Cardassians stayed with him. Bobby called for Meroka to open fire before they were close enough to hit, hoping to scare them off, but both O'Connor and his own fightered were taking a beating.
"20% sir!" Meroka called out, nervous. They had lost the breathing pattern between them as often happened when Bobby was trying something far too risky. Bobby waited two more seconds before he realised he wasn't going to make it before he was shot out of the sky himself. With a loud curse, he pulled back hard on his stick, sending himself up and over his pursuing Cardassian in a loop.
Ahead, O'Connor's fighter exploded into a fireball.
Commander Elliot Drake
Executive Officer
Captain Melody Windsor
Marine Commanding Officer
2nd Lieutenant Robert Lancaster
Fighter Pilot
Private 1st Class Meroka Setan [R. Lancaster]
Tactical Systems Operator
