Logbook entry

Duty, 21: An Enemy Within

14 Dec 2022Meowers


We were all determined to tear this place down, today, no other options. Both AXDF forces and local militia; as soon as we get to know its location, people started planning. Everyone in our camp was involved somehow. The strike couldn't be delayed since they already know we found them; and we must not let them to reinforce their standing in the system. Soon, our ships were prepared for the take off and we received our mission plan: heavy T-10's and Anacondas were fully loaded with unguided rockets to wreak havoc on the ground and had SRV bays installed to conduct a final cleanup, whilst medium-sized ships with standard AX loadouts had to wipe out everything that moves in the sky, before the bombardment begins.

My wing was ordered to take part in the initial assault on whatever Thargoids could be found there at the moment. Then we had to move upper, to observe the surroundings, watch the full picture and provide backup if needed, leaving the battlefield to more fresh forces with fully repaired ships. So... I've made four big cups of coffee while we still had some time and gathered my pilots before the flight. A little chatting never hurts, and, well, also I had to make a promise. About having a word with the officers and Matthew here, when we return. We were tired, especially David, and... Khm. Me. Maybe. Christine and Peter, who returned earlier, had some time to rest, but obviously that wasn't nearly enough. Still, almost a week of living in our hangars was taking its toll.

The approach was similar to the previous flight, we dropped from the cruise mode above the same destroyed miner camp, and headed to the surface, to resume our flight on low altitude, covered by the terrain. I've no doubt the Thargoids have an ability to track ships during in-system cruise flights, so that move looked reasonable enough. No need to alert them before the attack begins.

And there we go, that last mountain ridge. The same group of Thargoids was still there, roaming above the field and sending their beams down to the pods... Was it a kind of refuelling procedure? Or were they... Feeding their gooey babies? Ah, whatever. This time we had a significant advantage in numbers and Matthew commanded fire at will; and, hah, let's keep the stakes high, I've already had a Medusa in my target lock. I boosted forward and fired several rounds at the beast, lighting up its first limb, and, right after that, manoeuvring to place my next shots, I saw someone else blasting the limb away, turning it into a shower of melting debris and greenish clouds. Shocked, Medusa started rolling chaotically, trying to figure out who was the source of most danger, but new shots came from just everywhere.

It was sooo awesome, the Thargoids were hectically running around like chickens, shot at from every possible angle, firing back erratically or trying to escape, screaming and darting from one side to another. Pieces of their ships, and hulls of destroyed ships were falling on the field, crushing the pods, squeezing the greenish liquid out of them. That was a view, I say. So when that Medusa was stripped off its five limbs, I requested a permission to disengage and proceed to the second part, to observe and act as a backup, but something odd started to happen...

One of our ships, a Chieftain from a local wing, suffered an internal explosion and disengaged its target, pulling up, leaving a trail of smoke and sparks, and the pilot reported about enormously high heat levels. Heatsinks couldn't help, they were just... jammed. Every one of them. Soon, several more heatsink malfunctions were reported. One Krait made an attacking run, bombarding the Cyclops and totally eviscerating it, but then the pilot activated all available heatsinks, some of them jammed, some of them even exploded, a piece of armour plating struck the engine block, and ship gone spinning at low altitude. Pilot ejected immediately, and his Krait smashed into a hill.

Shortly after, another pilot ejected when his Chieftain caught fire and one of the thrusters blown up mid-air. One more Chieftain was shot down when its pilot tried to leave the combat with madly elevated heat signatures, and the Thargoids concentrated their fire on that ship. We had to improvise. Thargoid resistance was cut in half already, but more of them could appear at any moment. I commanded my folks to return and engage the rest of them; thankfully, Medusa was already dealt with, so we had a couple of Basilisks and a bunch of Cyclopes to play with. And ground attack ships had to start their run now, relying on armour and our support. All local AX fighters were sent to the low orbit with an order to power down everything except engines, comms and sensors, and wait for us to escort them back. SRV cleanup was a no-go, we needed to unload all our boom-boom stuff and then get out of here.

So, when almost every Thargoid bastard was shot, Matthew told me and my wing to find and collect the escape pods. And... I delegated the task to my pilots, while heading to the crash site of the Krait lost in the previous fight. I... I've had no illusions about him surviving that crash. There are no wonders. It was horrible, the debris were scattered at the foot of a mountain ridge, over a large area, the speed was high and his ship still had ammo and fuel onboard, so it exploded, and he had no time to eject... Nevertheless, I simply had to land nearby and search for... Something. It felt terribly unfair just to leave the crash site as is. He... Deserved an effort, even if it was pointless.

Wandering around and looking on the ground, trying to find... Uh. I didn't even know what to search for. Jagged, twisted pieces of metal, wires, melted plastic, on a scorched, charred sand... And silence. No words, no signals, no movements. Nobody could survive that. I was just... Wandering around. In my thoughts, I've returned a few hours earlier, when we emerged from the other side of that ridge, with engines roaring and guns blazing. With all our trainings and successful fights, did any of our pilots thought about... That flight being their last one? Their end, on that useless, nameless rock? If I were able to, you know, really return there, what would I do? If not for that fight, we'd have to face more of them now... And what about me? I might meet the same fate one day, and somebody else will wander silently around the debris, searching for something that's somehow connected to me... Or not. Maybe, I'll be found months, years after the crash. And why?.. I don't know anything about that young man. Maybe he had a family. Maybe not. I don't know what kind of life he lived. But I wanted to find something, just in case someone ask for it. To make them sure... He wasn't forgotten there. And, if the same fate awaits me, why someone would bother to find whatever left of me?.. But, to be completely honest, there will always be a pilot to replace me if that happens, and if that happens, my only hope it won't be in vain, that my last fight will make somebody else's life better and safer. And me... I'm just a line in the flight roster. And I'm okay with that. Not the worst way to go for me.

We had to return. I've found... A piece of armoured suit chestplate, bent and with a small chunk of metal stuck in it, a cracked helmet glass, with dried blood stains, and a glove. Couldn't find anything more. The cockpit was totally destroyed in the crash and pilot's death was instant. So, our bombers spent all their ordnance and Matthew's wing made several low-altitude sweeps, hammering what's left of their ammo into the surviving pods. The place was turned into a mangled mess of sand, dirt, Thargoid debris and greenish goo. However... Peter brought more bad news. An escape pod he found was shot by the Thargoids, and the pilot inside was dead. Uh... At least it happened almost instantly, two Thargoid rounds went through the central section of the pod. So, he loaded the pod onboard his Chieftain.

I requested an inspection of our and local ships, and... Results made me especially angry. It was definitely a sabotage. Heatsink ejection ports were filled with thermoplastic composite, that stuff techs use to quickly fix the small holes in the armour. Deeply enough to remain unnoticed during the pre-flight checks. So, they couldn't eject, and, being stuck, they raised the temperature of the ship, damaging the heatsink launchers, cooling contours, other modules, whatever was placed around them. And it was done only to the local resistance ships; AXDF ships, guarded by our forces, were totally fine. Argh. More work for the techs to replace all that crap... And also...

Spent some time watching automated recorder footage from Peter's ship. His actions during the last fights. Local security trusts him, but the same local security allowed that shit to happen. Yeah, they could be corrupted as well, or they could have some Thargoid lickers in their ranks... But, huh. Our guy was doing right things on those videos. I mean, he's been shooting at Thargoids with some explainable misses here and there, not totally imitating his attacks, and he already has some confirmed kills flying in my wing.

Made a call and told I'm going to visit him and talk about his plans. Those Thargoid-loving arseholes should be put down, and if he knows how to untangle all that... I'll let him try.

Maybe he has a torture room in his place, who knows, hah.

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Me standing on the surface of HIP 29991 Planet 2
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