Rogue Command (The Kalahari Series) (48 page)

BOOK: Rogue Command (The Kalahari Series)
9.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The Humatron fighters were swift and agile, proving deadly adversaries, and they had brought down a number of Deltas – but they had an Achilles heel. They were short-range fighters designed primarily for ground support and they lacked endurance. Being held in close combat in the Rima Hadley area for some time now was beginning to tell, and several were peeling off – desperately short of fuel. But Doug Winton and ‘A Section’ harassed them all the while. Turning north for a fuel stop made them highly vulnerable.

Richard watched the energetic clash between a Humatron fighter and a Delta Class that was taking place south of him by a few Ks. He watched the Humatron pilot pull some incredible manoeuvres and speculated on the role of human pilots in the coming years. Many of the specialist close combat tactics the machines were using caused Richard to think that the robots had the benefit of strategic computer programming – programming that utilised decades of aerial combat experience, as some of their manoeuvres were typical of the Second World War era.

Suddenly the Humatron craft exploded, being caught by a second Delta who had launched a coordinated attacking run at exceptionally high speed and subsequently zoomed off into the distance.

Flying inverted and using a skidding technique to hamper an attack from behind, Richard caught sight of Borghine’s Delta Class making another low level strafing run at the head of the Rima Hadley – as there were still a number of robots moving out of the valley and onto the Putredinis Plain.

Suddenly he saw a Humatron fighter manoeuvring into Borghine’s seven o’clock position in order to attack from behind. Richard slammed open his thrust levers and pulled the Swiftsure into a near vertical dive in support of Borghine. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw another black-coloured Delta Class flashing along the valley. The fighter jinked right, reversed the turn left and then quickly rolled inverted, pushing up to get the Humatron in his sights, and then cleverly loosed a sonic torpedo as he pulled a clearing turn back to the left. This trick eliminated the possibility of the torpedo locking onto his colleague. It worked; the enemy fighter exploded moments later into an effervescing ball of sparks.


Merci, mon ami
!” called the familiar voice of Borghine, and Richard knew it was Tardier who had come to his rescue.

Suddenly a Humatron fighter streaked past Richard’s cockpit close enough to make his ship shudder, and then, in the blink of an eye, Black Six shot past in hot pursuit. Canales fired a pulse torpedo, but both ships were out of sight in an instant and Richard was unable to see the outcome.

“A rapid turn to the right at this moment will avoid the incoming fighter gaining a weapon lock,” said Thomas calmly.

“What the . . . !”

Richard didn’t see the threat but turned immediately – instantly two brilliant beams of light flashed past. Richard tightened the turn – another beam of laser light illuminated his cockpit. He pulled up into a vertical climb, used the forward retro to push over his nose, and entered a spin; he closed the thrust levers and dropped like a brick.

“Black leader, one on your tail!” someone shouted over the radio.

Richard plunged towards the ground, down towards the steep valley escarpment. Suddenly, and with split-second timing, he reversed the direction of retro thrust and, using cross-controls, recovered from the spin with barely 1000 feet to spare. Then he quickly pulled his craft into a series of manoeuvres.

“Where is he, Thomas?” Richard shouted.

“Still behind us, Commander.”

“Dammit!”

Still losing altitude, Richard increased his rate of descent and dived into the valley. He was within a hair’s breadth of the valley side and rocky outcrops flashed past. He was heading north-east and made a snap right turn towards open ground and then a dummy left turn that he promptly reversed. Feeling exposed, he flicked his ship to the left again, back towards the hard, cold, wall of rock. Flashes of laser light followed his every move. Tucked in so tight that the rock face appeared to burst through the canopy, Richard pulled and pushed and jostled his controls.

“Can’t shake him!” Richard blurted.

Suddenly Richard was showered with rock fragments – a laser blast had hit the rock wall just in front of him. At that speed the pieces were like bullets and several perforated his wing. Richard instinctively ducked as a fragment smacked into his windscreen. To his dismay, a tiny crack formed.

“Hold on!” Richard called in desperation, and he snap-rolled to the right and dived down towards the valley floor – the Humatron followed him.

Ahead, at the end of the valley, Richard could see a column of thick, milky-white smoke; it was rising from a downed fighter with its rocket fuel flaring. Richard pulled his thrust lever closed in order to reduce speed and all the while he darted up and down and left and right, narrowly avoiding the deadly barrage from behind. He flew headlong towards the smoke. With a thumb controller he positioned the forward retro to the left and the aft retro pointing horizontally to the right and as he was about to zoom through the smoke he jammed open the lever and simultaneously pressed the trigger of his cannon. The effect was instant. Russian roulette – as the incredible stress levels could rip the Swiftsure apart. Both ships flashed through the smoke, but Richard was spinning like a top and with his cannon blazing. An instant was all that was needed, as the Humatron had little idea what had happened before his craft disintegrated in the hail of heavy gunfire.

Richard was still in trouble, however, as the high rate of spin was disorientating. Despite his immediate cancellation of retro thrust the swirling motion continued and Richard’s vision became blurred. They began to lose altitude.

“Adjust forward retro to the right, Commander,” ordered Thomas. “Do it now!”

Richard complied, although he was unaware of the effect on the retro’s position. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge to vomit.

“Stop! Apply retro thrust now . . . Stop! Now, Commander, please pull up!”

Richard pulled back on the stick and instinctively increased the main thrust; soon they were in a rapid but stable climb. It took Richard a few moments to regain his senses.

“Commander, when you are able, you may wish to look to your right,” continued Thomas. “There are three S2 Shuttles arriving from the Mare Imbrium sector. According to communications on the secondary control frequency they are equipped with assault pods. I count eight Humatron fighters still in this vicinity; you may wish to provide close support to the S2s as they will be vulnerable when they make their approach to land.”

“Thank you, Thomas, that’s helpful . . . Wait!”

Richard refocused and caught sight of two Humatron fighters behind his right shoulder – he immediately manoeuvred but lost sight of them. “Thomas, the sensor screen, where are they?”

“Quickly turning into your eight o’clock, Commander. But they don’t appear to be manoeuvring to attack; they’re turning north.”

“They are going for fuel,” said Richard. He scanned the area and saw Borghine’s fighter involved in a one-to-one. “Black Six, from Black One, where are you?” he called over the combat frequency.

“Ten o’clock high,” was the reply.

“Copied . . . Black Two and Black Six, two Humatron fighters, north-west by three miles, heading north for refuel. Break off and follow them. Engage when they land and then destroy the refuel station and operating base.”


Oui, Capitaine
. . .”

“. . .
Vamos alla
!”

The struggle over Rima Hadley was coming to an end. Thomas’s idea of providing support for the three S2s was sensible, but they were already disappearing from sight in a north-easterly direction.

“Black Three, Four and Five, this is Black One,” he called over the radio. “Follow me onto a heading of zero two zero degrees, increase forty lutens. Red One . . . over to you and good luck.”

“Copied Black Formation,” said Doug Winton. “I see you going.”

“Keep an eye on the sensor picture, Thomas,” said Richard over the intercom. “The Humatron fighters are thin on the ground at the moment – I think they are reaching the end of their endurance – but we can expect some more on Andromeda’s eastern flank.”

“Yes, Commander. Three S2s dead ahead thirty kilometres, open formation. They appear to be decelerating . . . Wait! Contact enhancement indicates firing of the assault pods . . .”

“Good, troops on the ground, let’s go.”

Designated ‘lunar independent’ because they are auto-piloted, self-propelled and able to carry a fully kitted Space platoon, the Nexus Aerosystems-designed assault pod is essentially an orbital APC – an Armoured Personnel Carrier – with a sting. Allocated the ISSF inventory code LAAP 12, the pods boast potent weapons, sensor screens, life support, generous self-destruct and a maximum complement of twenty heavily armed Special Forces operatives. Designed originally for rapid deployment anywhere on the lunar surface and with an almost invisible radar signature when launched in Space, the anti-acquisition, spiral re-entry profile afforded the system the affectionate term ‘shock troopers fantasy ride’ by those who deployed in them. This time, Richard could see that they were utilising a ‘low-altitude, minimum flight time strategy’ and no sooner had they dropped from beneath the mother ships than the three S2s rapidly vacated the area.

“Sensors indicate two further S2 approaching from the Rima Fresnel area, Commander. I understand from communications on the secondary frequency that this is the total ground force available until the S2s return again from Earth.”

“Copied, Thomas, but that will probably be too late. I’m seeing a lot of movement on my tactical screen east of the drop zone. There’s a Humatron force moving towards Andromeda.”

Richard’s Formation of four fighters dropped low and skimmed over the undulating terrain as the three assault pods descended vertically a kilometre or so in front of them. As they passed overhead, Richard banked to the left to see tiny retro rockets on the four corners of each pod cushion their landing. Dust and debris quickly rose into swirling clouds as they dropped the final ten metres. And then he looked back over his shoulder to see a stream of men running and dispersing from each of the cube-shaped objects. Within seconds the three platoons were forming a battle line.

The Humatron fighters were noticeable by their absence as Richard, forever wary, pulled his formation into an easy right turn and onto a reciprocal heading. It was then that mortar shells began to fall. They caused multiple explosions in the vicinity of the storm troopers. Richard looked left to see their origin in the lower foothills at the base of the Apennine front. He immediately turned in that direction.

“Standby to engage,” Richard called over the radio, as he checked his weapon systems.

At 50 feet and accelerating towards the enemy emplacement, Richard opened the Formation into an attacking line abreast with a sharp order over the combat frequency. In seconds the ground began a slow incline towards the foothills and rocky outcrops formed effective hiding places. Sporadic streams of tracer shells fired from various positions on the ground where lone Humatrons had moved forwards for spotting duties, but the main force lay ahead of them and Richard and his men had it in their sights.

Ground fire intensified until it appeared as a mass of crisscrossed, multicoloured diagonals – the lines terminating in firework-like microbursts. Richard’s response was to drop lower and he edged the Formation down to 30 feet – territory where ground clutter confused even the most sophisticated fire control radars. Bobbing up and down but with a stable flight path towards the target, Richard pressed on. Now the steeply rising terrain of the mountains reared up and began filling their windscreens. Incendiary shells and tracer streams lit up the black lunar sky. Buffeted and bouncing, the fighters rocketed towards their goal. Outside, the desolate, sterile, Moon was a blur. Richard heard and felt the dull thud of penetrating hits and he saw the damaged area to Chris Quarrie’s right-hand winglet reignite. Smoke billowed and flames licked from inside the holed structure – but this time extinguishing it was impossible, because Chris had already used both bottles.

“Break if you need to,” Richard instructed Chris.

“Negative! On target!” was the reply.

Richard looked forward again as the stronghold loomed. The mountains filled his windscreen. Tardier and Mayard held a good line on his right. The flak rained on them. “Take my lead!” said Richard. “Two left, two right, on my command!” he snapped.

“Stay on line . . . Stay on line . . . ! Steady . . . steady . . . fire!”

Instantaneously, the flak changed direction. Sonic torpedoes loosed; magma shells streaked towards their targets streaming characteristic sulphur trails as their iron pellets turned molten. Richard dropped four sonic eruptors and a continuous barrage from his heavy cannon spat fire and destruction. It was Revelation Day for the Humatron force.

“Break!” shouted Richard, and none too soon; the bleak, unforgiving face of the mountain was about to burst through into his cockpit. Hard right and left turns with heavy g loading followed and then they were away. Nobody looked back.

Moments later they overflew the storm trooper line and Richard rocked his wings in a brief show of solidarity as the soldiers below joyously waved their weapons. But the fight wasn’t over yet – far from it.

Richard heard Andromeda Control requesting part of Red Wing move against the Nanobots that were streaming in from the west and north-west. If they were quick, the tiny marauders – mechanical replicas of African soldier ants, with powerful electro-hydraulic mandibles – could be contained in the biodome complex. Richard knew that some of Red Wing’s Delta Class fighters were carrying ionising plasma shells and that they were much more effective than the standard static variety – each generating one million volts of searing electrical potential. Any programmable functions within a kilometre radius of one of those devices would instantly be erased. He heard Doug Winton take up the challenge.

Other books

JACKED by Sasha Gold
God Drives a Tow Truck by Kaseorg, Vicky
The Writer by Amy Cross
The Fourth Sunrise by H. T. Night
A Bravo Homecoming by Christine Rimmer
White Tiger by Stephen Knight
The Demon Senders by T Patrick Phelps
Stolen Moments by Radclyffe