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The Defense of Earth 1: The 889th Tactical Fighter Wing
Posted By: Steele<hoffmansteele@hotmail.com>
Date: 15 March 2003, 10:39 PM
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The 889th Tactical Fighter Wing
0500 Hours, October 14, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Widower, Earth local space
Commander Rick "Einstein" Mitchell stormed into the briefing room, a dispatch clutched tightly in his fist. He heard the barked "Atten-shun," from one of his officers and turned around, his face a grim mask. "As you were," he snapped, the stress starting to boil out.
When the pilots sat back down he continued. "Two hours ago a Covenant Armada arrived in system and massed near Mars. They destroyed the outpost stationed there." He let that sink and watched the shock dawn on many of the pilot's faces. Before they could start asking questions he said, "I know you have questions and concerns, but for now we have a mission.
"Their armada consists of over a thousand ships; most being destroyers and cruisers. But there are a few troopships along with a few carriers. As you know, these vessels carry enough Covenant to completely invade three Earths. To underestimate the situation, if those ships reach Earth Orbit and drop their loads, we're fucked.
"The Covenant capital ships won't be too much of a problem since are ships numbers are about twice of theirs, not including the 200 new Battleships we have. Anyway, our mission will be to wait near Earth and take out the Troopships when they arrive. Gentleman, the Covenant is getting predictable. ONI believes the main Covenant fleet will engage our fleet somewhere near Mars.
"And, while their distracted doing that, the Troopships will execute a pinpoint slipstream jump and arrive right on top of Earth. We'll be waiting for them. While the Super MAC cannons could handle the majority of them we're gonna make sure none of those freaks hit orbit.
"The 909th Tactical Interceptor Wing will assist us. Other than that and the UNSC Widower we're all alone. All the other ships will be too busy handling the Covenant forces in-system. Your personal assignments should be uploaded to your APA (Advanced Personal Assistant) by now. Any questions?"
A black Lieutenant Commander stood up. "Ahhh...sir, a single Covenant Carrier can launch at least 350 Seraphs. And you said there were at least fifty of them. Against 144 Dagger Fighters and 72 Longsword Interceptors. Don't you think the odds are slightly against us?"
Rick threw him an angry glare. "I'm well aware of the odds, Commander Smith. But we'll have over sixty Super MAC guns. As soon as the Covenant ships appear, they're good as dead. We won't have too much to worry about.
"And even if there are hundreds of the bastards, we'll stop them from getting to Earth at all costs!" He turned and looked at each one of them. Apparently satisfied he went on. "We need to be ready to launch in an hour—dismissed."
The pilot's snapped to attention, saluted and filed out. Rick followed them and headed toward the locker room. He suited up and jogged to the launch bay. He walked in and grinned at the sight of hundreds of fighter aircraft being setup on multiple launch rails.
Rick sprinted up to his Dagger and almost reverently ran a hand over the wing of the aircraft. The Dagger resembled its namesake. It was long and slim, with a sharp nose. Two forward swept wings sprouted from large intake/weapons vent. Situated in the middle of the craft was a rounded cockpit with two large vector thrust engines nestled in behind it. They were relatively new aircraft and were known to outperform any Covenant spacecraft.
His Dagger was painted a jet black, like all UNSC aircraft. The nose of the aircraft sported a smiling shark swallowing a Banshee. Beside it was written: 'Covie-Eater' Right below his cockpit canopy was his name and rank. And below that were meatballs, signifying his kills. Twenty-Seven of them adorned the side.
Rick climbed up the ladder then looked at his crew chief, "She okay?"
The chief grinned, displaying a face full of crooked teeth. "She's as smooth as a prom queen's thighs but nowhere near as risky. She won't let you down. Good hunting. Oh and by the way, I expect you to come back with at least another ace marking to slap on your campaign list."
"Don't worry, chief, I won't let you down," Rick responded as he dropped into the pilot's seat and strapped himself in. He put on his helmet and clicked on his COM, "Control this is Gold Lead, I'm in the green and first in the duck shoot; ready to launch."
"Copy Gold Lead, permission granted, May your enemies die by the score."
Rick signed off, and switched to his Squadron Channel. "Alright boys, we're the first out and the closest to where the enemy is most likely to appear. So let's do this and do it right."
COMs clicked in acknowledgement. He waited for his fighter to spin around in the docking harness. When it did a green light popped up on his HUD. He slammed the throttles forward.
Over 500,000 square pounds of afterburning thrust came from each engine and slammed into the acceleration backstop right behind his fighter. His fighter was launched out of the bay at over Mach 29. Behind him the rest of the 889th's Gold Squadron launched; looking just like large missiles.
Rick slammed his control column to the side, causing his Dagger to turn almost ninety degrees in the space of a second. He now skimmed along parallel to the Widower's hull. He pulled up and cruised around, waiting for the rest of his squadron to form up. When they did, he snapped out a stream of orders and his squadron started to deploy to their position.
Suddenly his sensors screamed, warning him of an opening in Slipstream space. He looked up and gasped. Green light boiled and expanded as a Covenant frigate exited slipspace and began disgorging Seraph fighters. Almost before it was done a dozen Super MAC rounds struck.
The frigates shields didn't do a thing. The large rounds ripped all the through the enemy vessel. The ship was torn apart from the force of multiple impacts. Its spine broke and pieces of the vessel started to break off, trailing plasma and fire. Atmosphere vented out, Covenant personal and equipment spilled out into the vacuum of space, and one large remaining piece of the frigate expanded outward in a rolling blue explosion, leaving nothing behind but debris.
His squadron cheered. "Can the chatter," he snapped. "We still have forty eight Seraphs to deal with. Now give me a Line Maneuver."
The Daggers formed up in a single staggered line, flying straight for the enemy. "Fire at will," Rick ordered, as if ordering an evening meal. He switched on his IR weapons system and immediately got a lock.
"Gold Lead, Fox Two," he said as he launched two AIS-36 ALRAAMs. Similar reports came back to him as twenty-four missiles shot toward the enemy. Rick looked out and tried to pick out the Seraphs but he couldn't see a thing, so he turned to look at his instruments. He watched as the impact clock hit zero and multiple targets dropped off his sensors. Looking up he could see bright flashes in the distance. His computer told him his missiles had scored two kills and that eight Seraphs remained.
"Alright boys, we're going to close and use the High-Low-Drop, got me," Rick said over his COM. "We gotta handle this quick so the other squadrons will have launched." Acknowledgements came back to him. He let his speed increase to Full Military Power, and climbed above the rest of his squadron. His wingman followed.
The Seraphs kept going, straight for the Daggers, in a headlong rush. Just before his squadron reached contact range, the area of space in front of him turned green and spat out dozens of Covenant Carriers.
The Super MAC guns opened up, spraying scores of MAC rounds at the enemy ships. The majority of Covenant ships didn't have a chance. MAC rounds tore through their shields and their armor, and then kept going, kinetic energy unabated. Lifeless hulks floated about, atmosphere leaking from ruined sections.
At least seventy destroyed Covenant Carriers floated around near Earth. And over thousands of intact Seraphs, and miniature Troopships continued on to Earth. And there wasn't a thing the Super MAC guns could do about it. They tried to hit the large Troopships and destroyed many of them. But the rest were now between Earth and the cannons. The MACs wouldn't fire for fear of hitting Earth; it was now time for the 889th Tactical Fighter Wing to do its job. And it had never failed.
Rick knew they had to stop the Troopships, but first they had to get to them. And being in the middle of a twisting dogfight with thousands of spacecraft wasn't exactly helping matters. He switched to a channel on his COM. "Captain Swenson, I need your Longswords to attack the Troopships. We'll try to break away and give you cover, but those Troopships need to go, sir."
"I copy Commander, We're attacking the Fatties now, but we'll need cover when those Seraphs start to jump us."
"Yes sir, we'll be there as soon as possible." He switched over to his Wing frequency, "Green, Red, and Blue squadrons give those Longswords cover. Yellow, Silver, and White squadrons come pull us out of this mess. The rest of you do what you can, within mission parameters."
His squadron commanders all acknowledged him and took off, under orders. Rick was about to dive into the swirling, twisting, and rolling dogfight below him when his sensor board lit up, telling him there was an enemy on his six.
Rick stomped down on his rudder and hauled back on the stick. His Dagger snap rolled and dove downward as Plasma fire lit up the section of space his fighter had just occupied. As soon as his nose was pointed down, he yanked his fighter into a hard port turn. When the Covenant Seraph did the same he turned back to the right. This initiated a dogfighting maneuver known as the Vertical Scissors.
Rick cut his fighter hard to the left and reversed thrust, causing the Seraph to shoot out ahead. Rick aligned his targeting cursor up with the enemy and pulled the trigger. The twin 20mm cannons right below the nose of his Dagger vomited fire at the Covenant craft. The Seraph disintegrated into a flaming piece of debris.
Rick keyed his COM, "Vape one Seraph!"
Similar reports were heard as Gold Squadron fought their way out of the mass of Covenant fighters. Rick rolled out to his left and formed back up with his Wingman. He said, "Thatch Weave." Immediately both fighters formed a moving circle pattern, and any fighter that tried to drop in behind either one of their fighters was eliminated by the other one.
Using this technique Gold Squadron managed to escape the furball, losing only one fighter. When they formed up with Yellow, Silver, and White squadrons, missiles were launched to discourage any pursuit.
"Alright, we've got to give those Longswords cover so they can take out those Troopships before they hit the Atmosphere. We gotta go now, full burn baby!"
All the Dagger pilots immediately turned on their afterburners and accelerated toward the mass of Troopships and Interceptors. Rick reached down into his cockpit and flicked on music over the whole COM channel. It was old music; at least 500 years old, but still enjoyed.
The Daggers dropped down and deployed right on top of the Troopships to the theme of Metallica's Enter Sandman.
To be Continued in The Defense of Earth 2
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