Duty, 29: Blindfolded
08 Mar 2023Meowers
Hell. All signs of the war of attrition. Can't remember the last time when I had a proper sleep for two consecutive nights. And yeah, here am I, again, in the cockpit, listening to Marshmallow's engines humming on standby, one hand on the thruster controls, coffee cup in another. Waiting. What exactly for? Anything. Matthew and his pilots were scrambled half an hour ago, they took one wing of locals with them to catch a pack of Thargoids on the low orbit, too far for a direct comm, but too close for comfort. If there are too many of them, our folks might need a support. Anyway, now we have an order to keep at least one AXDF anti-Interceptor wing in the settlement in case of shit falling down from the skies.
Goddamned blockade is taking its toll already, we're not that down to ration our food, though the settlement's trade and supplies are completely stopped and we have little to no communications with the rest of the Galaxy. I can't tell exactly what's happening out there, but seems like something big, and even the AXDF command is keeping their explanations awfully short. Some of the traders, who were left on the 'other side', in more populated places, cut all contacts, much likely appropriating community cargo ships. Screw those chickenshits. Good to know though that those who remained true are now trying to stick together and devise some kind of a plan. An evacuation maybe. Or at least they can raise some money to call for help.
You know? I'm goddamn tired. If I had my way, I would command an evacuation right now, while we still have enough combat-ready ships to punch through the blockade several times, covering the transports going back and forth. Twenty thousands of people. And... Damn. They're civilians. They have their jobs, their homes, their stuff here, you can't just throw them to some random direction hoping they will find their way and some solid ground to land on, and call it an 'order to retreat' with 'manageable casualties'. There's certainly something that I don't know about the full picture... But, huh. I'm neither a politician nor a strategist. And those who are, are now relying on me, hoping that I'm good at what I'm supposed to do: leading a wing and smashing Thargoids.
Speaking of leading a wing... Dammit. I never thought keeping an okay face could be that exhausting. I have all the motivation to do it, I have my three pilots to be an example to, to keep their morale up, as it seems like the only way now. What a peculiar example, hah... And now it's almost four months since my last contact with the clinic in Komotae. Damn head stuff. Like, normally, I'm trying to cheer people up, to support them, sometimes I'm even cracking jokes, all that, and not because I feel something that could make me do so, but... I think that's the best way, so, I'm just following that programming, that pattern. And, well, it's becoming more and more difficult. A week ago, I've had a little chat with Christine, and it was her who called me and asked if everything is alright. Told her that I'm so distant because I'm tired, blah blah blah. Yeah, that's a truth, but... simplified.
What else should I tell her? That I don't want to talk and socialise because I see no reason? That I'm going to lose whatever little I have now anyway, because such is the nature of my life, and all those silly little hopes are pointless? That I'm stuck in an eternal uphill battle, I don't know why I'm still alive and what's all this for? That, while other folks around me enjoy their lives and all the things they have in their lives, I'm still stuck in my endless attempts to build, rebuild, repair, my time is running short and I'll never have a chance? Heck. This is not what a soldier wants to hear from their commander. Imagine a bunch of pilots or soldiers crying after every mission, and their commander is crying as well. You don't want to see those between your home and the Thargoid threat. And... I think that my responsibilities now are the only thing that keeps me together. I can't stand down. I have a job to do.
Strangely, speaking of those 'silly little hopes' made me remember that night on the balcony, with Mion, our talks of imaginary future and a bit of stargazing. So... We haven't talked much after thing I've done to those fanatics. Yes, she immediately, and correctly, figured out it was my work, and asked me directly, in private. And I hate lying. So, now, our communications are nothing more than... Asking each other 'are you alright?' after seeing each other landing, and nothing more. Glad she's alright.
Whatever keeps her asking...
Goddamn, what the heck? A siren?
Shit, the AA cannons are powering up. Take off first, ask questions later. Thrusters on full, weapons ready.
"Take off and watch the sensors, join formation on 3 km!"
Nine Cyclopes, a couple of Basilisks and one Medusa, appeared from hyperspace right above the settlement and set a course for atmospheric entry, heading directly towards us. But how did they get past... Ah, crap, no time to think. My wing is going first, two local wings are half a minute behind us. One of them is just three ships, dammit, have to keep those folks in the rear guard...
We fired our first shots at mere 40 kilometres. Had no options better than a head-on attack, slipping past them and moving upwards, dragging the beasts away from the settlement. My wing concentrated on the Medusa, and we instantly dispatched its first limb, forcing the bastard to stop its descent, and when it turned around to aim, we were ready for the next attack. Locals... Commanded them to keep the mass of Cyclopes locked in a combat, but, firstly, they had to survive as long as possible, manoeuvring and dropping heatsinks, no more frontal assaults, hit-and-run until we finish off the primary threat.
Still, one of them just had to play a hero, attacking a Cyclops tenaciously and exchanging blows. We've had a Medusa to fight, dammit, and why their wing leader didn't stop them? Crap. First, I saw a Chieftain playing a joust with a Thargoid, then I saw the same Chieftain spiralling down with both rear thrusters on fire, surrounded by alien debris and a caustic cloud. Crap. We can't afford to lose ships like that, thankfully, the pilot ejected... One more desk flyer in our team.
Damn Basilisks. Bastards are fast. I told once that in my wing, only my Marshmallow is fast enough to outrun them, we also had two fast ships in Matthew's wing, other AXDF ships were about the same speed or slightly slower, and locals... Uh, you better don't ask. So, we were about to reduce that Medusa to a pile of rubbish, when those two disengaged and headed straight for the settlement. Friggin' gunky tricksters. At least we succeeded at moving them a bit farther away from the town...
"Christine, take the lead, I have to catch them!"
I've rarely seen them so determined, like... Did that Medusa give them an order to do so, feeling like the battle is going to be lost? With little to no attention to my shots, the Basilisks entered the lower atmosphere in what was looking like a suicidal attack. Squeezing the triggers so hard that my fingers began to hurt, I've tried to destabilise them, landing my shots closer to the edges of their limbs. No result, one ship just isn't enough for that, those freaks are... hefty. And, damn, two of them, I couldn't shove them both to the side.
AA cannons helped me, finally, tearing the most damaged Basilisk apart as soon as we entered their coverage zone. But the second one was still hanging on, with one heart left, the beast was twitching and roaring, struggling to maintain a straight course...
"Incoming! Evac the comm tower! AA, keep firing!"
Aiming at the Basilisk's... What do they have for an arse? Well, my best idea of that moment was to hit the boosters, punching the beast, pushing it away from the collision course, while AA turrets bombarded its front side with their relentless barrage. Hell, I saw its hull cracking and that greenish crap pouring away, almost like blood, pulsating, covering a good half of my canopy glass. Bless the altimeter, dammit... And when the Thargoid's body finally collapsed, I pulled the stick and squeezed the boost switch once more, hoping that my sharp acceleration will spread the debris far away enough.
Still, had to return to the battle after burning the caustic crap off. Was happy to see my folks doing okay, dealing with the leftovers. Not so happy hearing that locals have lost one more ship, at least the pilot was fast enough to eject in time, before their Krait turned into a fusion bomb by a powerplant failure. Requested a damage report from the ground services on our way back, seems like the day was saved, one of the big chunks severed some cables and antennaes on the roof and continued to the warehouse full of completely inoperable ship parts waiting for recycling, making them, well, even more inoperable. But nothing really bad.
However, again, how did they manage to get past our satellite array undetected? I guess that's a question of the day, and I'm afraid I cannot answer it. However, I'm completely sure I have an answer for another one.
"Are you alright?"
Yes, I am. I am, still.