The Red Leopards of Zaxon B (Galaxies Collide Book 2) (8 page)

Flight Lieutenant Anjara glanced down at the flashing proximity lights below on his display, his eyes widening in surprise as he suddenly realised where his seven fighters had reached across the space above Zaxon B. His initial briefing being to complete a sweep for any remaining low level enemy fighters, before progressing to attack the two Morgon Decimator Warships above with the torpedoes mounted below four of his wing members’ sleek craft.

Licking his scarred lips, he drew deep breath in anticipation, his eyes closing momentarily in relish as he considered the next few moments. They had flown far further than he imagined, his fond concentration on the pilots in his charge distracting him as their star fighters swept faster than in training missions across the high altitudes of the planet just inside the atmosphere.

Flashes above him sharpening his senses once more, the battle raging above his small command as they swept forward. Ahead, he could just make out dots in dark space, the small craft that had flashed on his display, the Morgon transports shuttling troops and supplies back and forth from the planet’s surface.

Anjara clicked his microphone, his adrenalin rising and voice almost a croaked whisper, ‘Radio silence from now on…Morgon transports ahead, their fighters are above us…keep low and sweep up upon their craft…one action before their ships above open fire, then
bounce
onto their Warships…those are our main targets.’

The tiny speakers in his ears clicked several times, his subordinates indicating their acknowledgement as their excitement rose, their fingers touching the microphone button on the sleek crafts control sticks. Several licking their lips in anticipation as they realised they had inadvertently broken through the enemy fighter shield by accident…the Morgons not expecting a low level attack and are deploying their fighters into combat above the atmosphere!’

The Flight Lieutenant clicked his microphone again as the silver wing swept forward towards the transports, his adrenalin soaring and evident in his voice, ‘Hit them hard! Good Luck…Our time is now!’

The seven star fighters accelerated, their pilots beginning to grin in their adrenalin high as the transports began to gradually get bigger, the large ships above seeming oblivious to their approach. The silent seven craft surged forward, their luck seeming too good to be true as they neared the unsuspecting enemy, sparks flickering around the powering forward guns as pilots prepped for the battle ahead.

Anjara grinned nervously, his thumb flicking the safety off his laser gun mechanism as the static sparked and surged along the length of the six barrels and muzzles. The dots were getting larger, the small craft blissfully unaware of the danger nearing as they dropped from the large transport ships above, the fighter escorts circling far above and protecting the Warships nearing Alexion One. He clicked the microphone eagerly, his breath held, ‘Attack formation…’ He sucked air excitedly, ‘Engage at will…’ The return comms clicks came immediately, his recruits eager to follow their leader into battle for the first time, their craft sweeping level with his as they accelerated towards the multiple targets ahead.

Warning lights flashed briefly across the Morgon flight screens, the pilots glancing down in alarm as loud proximity alarms filled their headsets. The transports engaged countermeasures, flares burning from the rear of their darkened vessels as the silver Trevakian craft swept into the formation. Laser cannon blasted through the weak protective screen as the Morgon craft began to weave and accelerate. Two vessels exploded immediately, their hulls buckling and imploding as direct hits forced their way through the armoured plate. The small ships behind flew into the debris field,  smashing against bodies and shrapnel thrown across the near space as flashes impacted on the atmosphere below, the numerous objects burning up in the intense heat.

The Trevakian vessels swept through the transport formation, firing at as many craft as possible. Three more transports exploded, the silver fighters buffeting on the blast waves as they accelerated further, banking quickly as the large spaceship gun turrets above attempted to react. Three more damaged transports broke from formation, attempting to reach the safety of the planet below as the silver fighters shot after them, the laser blasts sweeping past the terrified enemy pilots.

Explosions flashed across near space as two of the pursued transports broke up, their passengers thrown out into space and killed instantly as their bodies disintegrated. The Trevakian fighters swept between the large dark Morgon ships above, defensive laser fire flashing across their cockpits as the pilots gritted their teeth, accelerating after their commander.

Flight Lieutenant Anjara clicked his microphone, his voice tense as nearby explosions rocked his fighter, ‘Follow my lead up to the Warships…avoid engagements and target their cargo bays…then we move onto any dropships targeting the space station.’ He grimaced, a nearby explosion clattering shrapnel against the hull of his vessel, ‘Keep close…guard the craft with the torpedoes!’ The speakers clicked in his ears in response, his trainees now surging with adrenalin as flashes lit up their cockpits.

The seven fighters soared upwards, the two distant warships beginning to get bigger in their forward screens as the turbulence and flashes gradually subsided behind. Alexion One became clearly visible in distant space as the fighter battle escalated before the space station, the large turret guns flashing as they fired out towards the approaching warships.

As the last damaged transport burnt up against the atmosphere, frantic alarm messages were transmitted to the warships, their rear gun turrets turning to meet the new threat. Laser fire spewed from the guns, the bright red high energy charges sweeping out to meet the incoming silver fighters, bursting in blackness, the flashes distorting in the space around them.

Anjara grimaced as his fighter bucked through the explosions on either side, the warships looming to fill his frontal screen. He clicked the microphone again, his voice tense, ‘Close up, minimal target exposure…straight in and through!’ The return clicks came from the apprehensive pilots surrounding him, flashes filling the space around them as the rear turret guns fired continuously at the oncoming fighters.

The outer fighter bucked, shrapnel shattering one of the engine cowlings, the young pilot struggling with the controls as he broke formation, the silver craft beginning to spin downwards towards the atmosphere. The radio surged in Anjara’s ear, the stricken craft’s automated systems attempting to stabilise its descent, the voice broken in fear, ‘Flight Leader…Starboard engine damage sustained…outer hull weakening!’

The flight lieutenant clicked his microphone frantically, ‘Return to base number four, fly low through atmospheric debris for cover!’

Static soared as the fighter fell from covert radio range, the young pilot seeing the flashing display before him as the craft deployed safety measures, isolating his fuel cells and limiting exposure to the damaged engine. The cockpit spun as the silver vessel bounced against the upper atmosphere, blast visors deploying across the transparent surfaces as flames and heat seared the bright silver sides. Tears filled his eyes as the cockpit went dark, seeming to entomb him as the craft spun and bucked, turning over on its back in the intense pressure of re-entry. Then the lights flickered and shone, the power re-established after isolation of the damaged parts, the vessel flipping and descending through the pressure. The metal around him shrieked and screamed, sparks flying from the wings and fuselage as the small craft swept through the atmosphere ring, the sudden silence indicating he was descending through the sky above Zaxon B. The blast shields swept back, the craft’s remaining engine surging in power to correct the descent and the pilot feverishly tapped his controls, yanking the stick to level as the scorched fighter swept along, three hundred metres above the planet’s surface. His eyes widened as he saw the ground rockets rising after him, the craft having emerged over Morgon lines, a computerised alarm filling his ears, ‘Missile Lock! Missile Lock!’

He weaved the stick, increasing power to the remaining engine in an attempt to escape the pursuing missiles and rockets, the computerised voice seeming to escalate as the projectiles neared their target. His teeth clenched, he pulled back on the stick hard, the fighter soaring into the heavens once more as debris broke from the damaged rear engine, flares cascading from the tail as blasts rocked the craft from below. He levelled briefly, then spun the craft to the side hard, the hull screeching once more as alarms filled the cockpit, the silver sides scorched and pitted from battle damage. Banking back, the last of the flares exploded behind him, the remaining missiles igniting in their ferocity as the engine cut out, stalling.

The wind whistled around him, the craft beginning to descend once more as he tapped the control panel, his body soaked in sweat beneath his flight suit. The engine fired…then silence, the angle of descent increasing as he frantically repeated the process. A burble of power from behind as the craft shook, a burst of fire from the remaining engine as it gained some thrust, the vessel jolting violently as he clenched his hands around the stick. The radio burbled in his ear, a startled voice recognising his identity and shouting at him, ‘This is Zaxon B control, Morasat Field…Viper fighter four, proceed for emergency landing…we have visual…keep high altitude, enemy is below you! Bring your fighter home…’

The young pilot sighed, his body exhausted from adrenalin and emotion as the craft sped towards the planet’s capital, smoke billowing from the rear of the vessel. His voice was hoarse and dry, ‘Affirmative Morasat Base…Viper Four incoming…I am damaged and will struggle to land…’

Flight Lieutenant Anjara swore under his breath, his craft buffeting violently as explosions rocked the space around him. The five remaining pilots behind were struggling to maintain the attack formation, the flashes all around their cockpits as the blast shields deployed across their vision automatically. The speakers crackled, their commander’s voice grim, ‘Forward into Oblivion…our time is now!’

Another sleek craft rose up from the formation, flames pouring from its engines as the young pilot screamed in vain, the explosion tearing the vessel to pieces as fragments shattered against the other craft sweeping towards the warships. Anjara’s voice surged through their headphones as the targeting systems across their screens flashed red, multiple circles indicating individual points to attack, ‘Fighters sweep upwards, torpedoes fire on my mark…’

Screeching across the hulls indicated the shrapnel field they swept through, the blasts all around them shaking the small craft as they drew into firing range, the computerised voices echoing through their cockpits, ‘Enemy mine deployment…incoming fighter presence detected…’

Anjara’s eyes narrowed, the red dots spreading across his control panel as the warships fired mines out towards them, a Morgon fighter wing recalled to deal with the oncoming threat. His jaw tensed, the scarred facial tissue stretching painfully as he pulled back on the stick, the fighter soaring upwards as it bounced on explosive blasts. His eyes dropped to the screen, flashes illuminating the cockpit through the tiny slits in the blast shields, his voice croaking in terror, ‘Fire all!’

The Morgon turret guns spun upwards, the crew manned weapons mistakenly targeting the nearest attacking craft as the three fighters with torpedoes swept onwards, their pilots clicking the release buttons. The engines on the torpedoes glowed, then fired…flames surging from beneath the silver scorched wings as the missiles swept forward, the three fighter pilots pushing their sticks forward to pass beneath the Warship ahead, accelerating dramatically.

Flight Lieutenant Anjara disabled his blast shields, straining his body upwards to look below as the fighter spiralled upwards, the glow from the missiles sweeping towards the starboard side of the warship. Flashes filled his vision, the fighter next to him disappearing in a ball of flame as the turret guns scored a direct hit, debris crashing against the side of his craft as he winced.

Two torpedoes hit mines, the flashes ripping through space as the high explosive missiles detonated. The other four swept onwards, passing through the blast wave and hurtling towards their target. The warship’s smaller defensive lasers opened fire, blue low energy blasts filling the space near the massive craft as the automated guns reacted to the oncoming torpedoes.

The loading bay was full of Morgon shock infantry, boarding the dropships preparing to attack Alexion One. The gravitational shield protecting the dock glowed green as one of the engineers stared out towards the exterior flashes and numerous blue laser blasts, his nervousness rising as the gunfire increased dramatically. Black armoured troops filed past him onto the nearest darkened craft as he moved from side to side to gain a better view, his concern escalating.

Briefly glimpsing a tiny craft sweep downwards, the lights from stars catching on its silver hull, the engineer shrieked in alarm, the bright flash outside the bay opening alerting him to the danger as the gravitational field flickered. His mind processed the bright light that swept into the cargo bay, the torpedo speed preventing any movement as the fetid and stale air movement was briefly realised, the massive explosion searing and engulfing all the figures at the right end of the long bay. Craft and fuel ignited, the explosions rocking the warship as two more torpedoes swept inwards, their detonations vaporising the awaiting infantry and crews as the engineer’s body disintegrated. Dropships and re-arming fighters exploded, adding to the fireball that swept and consumed the loading bay. The gravitational protective field compromised, body parts and debris were blown out into space, the automated guns spinning as they fired to clear the obstructions, blue energy blasts pouring from all the starboard guns.