Duty, 34: The Price of a Day
07 Apr 2023Meowers
There is a certain dilemma about being a good leader. To be a good leader, you have to, obviously, be good at it, and also you should survive long enough while applying your skills. Forces that you lead will definitely like your example, seeing you fighting alongside them, however, doing so drastically decreases your chances to survive. Staying behind have always been easier.
I knew this was going to happen sooner or later. Of course that Hydra appeared right in the middle of the battle, turning two militia ships into fireballs in what looked like an instant. Poor folks were too overwhelmed with constant evasives already, the bastard jumped out of hyperspace and accelerated sharply straight to the centre of the battlefield, sending long bursts at those who were on its way. It used our fatigue, no doubt.
And... A mistake I won't forgive myself for making, probably. Or... Was it a mistake? Or I just had no choice at the moment? I could've told the pilots to avoid the larger ones, and do the same myself, so, erase the Cyclopes quickier, and then attack the Medusas with all ships we've had... Although, those big scumbags, if not kept at bay, would've been a serious trouble... Ah, crap. You know, I can't say for sure. What's done is done. Shit. Anyway, I knew, I goddamn knew that Hydra will appear eventually, and, even being aware, I've put all my Gauss rounds into the goddamned Medusas. Yep, two mean bastards less, and my folks got another one, but they were now unsettlingly low on ammo, and I was almost out. We had to retreat, even for a short time.
"Muir, stop counting shots, RTB with your wing and rearm!"
Matthew. These were the last words I've heard from him.
We rearmed and refuelled as fast as it's even possible, and the cup of coffee I've had on the landing pad... That brown liquid literally disappeared in me in a moment, followed by a pair of cigarettes. Still, not fast enough. From down there, I saw the battle slowly moving to lower altitudes, I saw AA cannons rotating and selecting their first probable targets... Yeah, we splashed three Medusas in total, and Matthew's wing removed a half of the Basilisks, although, there were just... Too many of them. I saw several ships exploding. But I never thought Matthew could be amongst them. Like... Really? Matthew? He's far better than me, how that could be even... Damn.
Returning to the battle, locking the Hydra as soon as I saw it on my sensors, I ordered David to assist me, and Christine with Peter to engage the remaining Medusas. Once we got closer, Roberto reported: Matthew's wing engaged the Hydra when I left, covering Mion's group that has been busy tearing down their cannon fodder. And seems like the blasted Hydra noticed my absence. Sacrificing some of the ranks, throwing a bunch of Thargoids to attack Roberto's group aggressively and push them further away, it led a part of the forces into the gap. Right behind Matthew's pilots. And attacked them head on itself. Matthew managed to shatter two Hydra's limbs before his wing has completely fallen into the clutches, and that strike in the back was fatal for one of his pilots. And, his last instruction was given to his remaining two wingmates; to retreat and meet Roberto's forces, while he desperately tried to buy them some time, pulling the Hydra away, being surrounded and shot at from every side.
"This is AXDF wing leader Ina Muir. I'm taking command of the joint forces. Planetary defence ships, retreat under the AA coverage slowly. Holbrook, Mitchell, first AXDF wing, stick together in the middle and prioritise the Medusas. AXDF anti-Scouts, spread out and retreat. Willett, keep the scum off my back."
I boosted to the Hydra, spiralling, evading its shots, dropping a heatsink, and my first rounds lit up its third limb. Damn this thing is tough. And ugly. However... I shoot, it bleeds. You know what that means. I'm here to bring them as much pain as possible. And, if they can't feel it, I'm going to make them begin doing so.
Damn that was hard. I had to pay attention to everything, not only the Hydra, but also the rest of the forces. It was... Dozens of times easier with only three pilots under my command. The distance, the positioning, the balance, the pace of our retreat, damage and ammo reports, all that just took every little bit of my brain. Too fast, and my wing would've been left cut off; too slow, and the Thargoids would've turned everything into a chaos. They were still outnumbering us, and our only chance to keep ourselves in fighting shape was in covering each other and concentrating the fire where it was needed. I heard the chatter, I definitely felt that strain in the voices... These people saw too many of their comrades die today.
We descended lower and lower. I saw buildings through the atmosphere fog, I saw silhouettes of AA cannons... And, eventually, they made their first shots. I saw a Cyclops falling apart on its last dive, and the debris, hitting a building. A fire, starting to burn on the ground.
"Head to the north, don't let their guts fall onto the settlement!"
Hopeless. Bastards attacked our AA turrets, seeing a threat in them, AA turrets returned the favour, and the pilots used their chances to nail some rounds into the Thargoids' backs... Can't blame them for that. More and more fires covered the ground, and, at some point, settlement on-foot militia had to show its teeth too, firing their portable launchers from the roofs and balconies. Those missiles, they can't do a massive destruction, but being launched frequently and from literally everywhere, are more than capable to be a support, at least forcing the green freaks to change their plans.
The Hydra. We exchanged some shots, I've already had power distributor malfunctions, a couple of heatsink dispensers blown off and some nasty holes here and there all over the hull, when its fourth limb started to glow red, and... Did I see it starting to flinch? It turned ninety degrees, facing the space, emitted the roaring noise, then turned back to shoot somewhere 'in my direction', completely missing every shot in the burst, and then headed back to space again... A friggin' invitation.
"Stop the retreat and give those arseholes all you got!"
I squeezed the triggers, and my shots landed right where it hurts. Heatsink, a sharp evasive, and another volley smashed the heart of the beast, sending the small jagged debris flying. The Hydra roared and accelerated quickly, running away from me, up to space. Using that reload second, I took a brief look on what's happening down there, but it was unnecessary. Following reports told me that we've got them on the run. Finally.
Of course that bastard chickened away. I don't have enough firepower to stop it. But it ran away. And took its suckers along with it. And more than a half of them didn't make it, thanks to... All of us. The pilots, the AA gunners, the ground militia, techs and medics. All of us.
I've had some time to look at the town from up above, to listen to the comms, while commanding the landing sequence, making sure that the most damaged ships and wounded pilots will get the first priority. Pillars of smoke reached the skies, flashing lights flooded the streets, several buildings were covered in the neutraliser foam, several more were burning, and a pair of turrets had a clearly visible, severe damage. Yet still, in a contrast, I heard inspiringly bright, loud, if only tired, voices in the reports, like... These people knew there will be losses. These people knew the price. And they paid it to achieve that victory today.
And I looked at the sky. Right above me. At the place where the Thargoids came from. I've no doubt there will be another attack. More losses. We made them turn their tails today, but... They will return. Certainly. And we... Damn. That's a bit of an 'I' from now on. Uh... I don't have enough pilots to put in a line, to stop another wave like that. I should insist on evac preparations. And the local figures should definitely hear me now. We must leave this place. I know the sentimental value of it... Though, even if we won the battle, apparently, we're also condemned to losing the war.
Had to count our losses on the debriefing. You know what? A part of me wants to grab Mion by the hand, go somewhere, close the door tightly behind us and sit onto the floor right next to her. With my eyes down, and that long quiet "shiiiiiit" on the exhale. Too much information to process. I wasn't exactly ready for that. And, another part tells me that I'm in charge of what's left of us now, and I should be a kind of example. What kind of example can I be? Ah, dammit... Yup, I'll finish recording this one and go see her. And let happen whatever might happen. Even me dropping onto the floor, whatever.
We may be condemned to lose a war here. But, we won that day.