Disclaimer
I don't own Macross. If I did, I would be far too rich to be
bothered writing fan fiction.
Previous chapters can be found here:
<http://tailkinker.contrabandent.com/drogan.htm>
05: Location
"Lock and clear!"
The massive maintenance servos, wrapped almost gently around
Scutum 303, locked down, and Corporal Takemoto popped the
Destroid's canopy. She hesitated, glanced down at her empty
gunner's seat, then hopped out of the cockpit and slid down the
ladder to the ground level.
Lieutenant Borela stretched as he emerged from the AAR-II. "I
need an espresso, right now." He glanced behind him, as Private
Taylor escorted the two prisoners from the vehicle. He made a
mental note to give Taylor some instruction in the proper
handling of prisoners; either one of them could have relieved him
of his firearm easily enough.
"Officer on the deck."
Enlisteds across the entire hangar snapped to attention, as Major
Sutton stalked across the deck. He marched up to Borela,
returned the Zentran's salute, then said, "I understand you lost
some good men."
"Yes, sir. MacDonald, Webb, Wog and Saro were all slain. Did
Barak 103 successfully recover, sir?"
"He did indeed."
"I am glad to hear it."
Sutton glanced over at the two prisoners. "And these two?"
Borela sighed. "The one with the green skin is a Zentran. The
other claims to be human, and a Captain of Intelligence. Claimed
Section Twelve as soon as he could."
"Seems to be a common trick among them." He jerked a thumb over
his shoulder. "You've earned some downtime; go grab some
coffee, listen to some jazz, whatever you do on your time off."
"Yes, sir."
* * * * *
Captain Roberts tossed her notebook computer onto the Major's
desk. "The debriefing, or interrogation, or whatever...it went
quick. And none of it was good news."
"Tell me what you've got."
Roberts gestured towards the notebook. "It's all in there, sir."
"I thought you knew me better than that, Captain. I want a quick
rundown of what you've learned. Not the full monty; I'll get
that from your report. But I need to know what's going on."
"Yes, sir. The variable fighters that Raptor Flight encountered
are a new form of variable fighter, called a Drogan. They were
designed by a human engineer, name unknown."
"A variable fighter engineer, working for the Malcontents?"
Sutton shook his head. "What on earth could they possibly have
offered him?"
"No idea, sir."
"Continue."
Roberts closed her eyes. "The Drogan variable fighter was based
on the old SV-51 design used by the anti-unification rebels, back
before Space War One, but has been modified to look a lot like a
Valkyrie. Twelve were built, plus one prototype fighter, and
they were talking about making more. The Malcontents intend to
use them in a terror strike somewhere in Southeast Asia."
"Terror strike? With only twelve ships?"
"I don't believe we have all the information yet."
"Did that Captain, or whatever he is, hold anything back, you
think?"
"I don't think so, sir."
Sutton stood up, and turned to face his wall map. "Where exactly
are they based?"
"We don't know that, either. Apparently the battle at Crash Site
1137E was a delaying action, so that they could get the fighters
out of there."
"They threw away a company of mecha, plus a Destroid, just to get
these fighters out. If they'd used the fighters, Lt. Gorilla's
forces would have been wiped out."
"Captain..." Roberts winced.
"Sorry. Lt. Borela." He turned to face her. "We picked up
those fighters, by the way. They were flying out to sea. Did
this Section Twelve guy mention where they were coming from?"
"Yes, sir. Crash Site 1150F."
"1150F." Sutton frowned. "What's 1150F?"
"1150F is the crash site of Armour Eleven. One of our own
ships."
* * * * *
"Hey, it's Borela!"
Lieutenant Borela raised a hand in greeting as he entered the
lounge. The entire room broke out into cheers. Several fighter
jocks raised their glasses, and the one Destroid pilot present
snapped to attention and gave him a very crisp salute. A Private
of maintenance ran forward with a cup of espresso, and someone
started up some Duke Ellington on the stereo.
"What is the occasion?" Borela glanced around in bemusement.
"Did I miss Christmas?"
Takemoto walked up to him, a wide grin on her face. "I managed
to weasel the gun tape footage from Lucern 104 outta the Captain.
Popped it into the VCR here." She jerked a thumb towards the big
screen. "These guys watched you take out a Destroid single-
handedly, with your bare hands."
"My hands were not bare; I was wearing gloves. And carrying a
pistol."
"Think they care?" She stepped forward, and lowered her voice.
"You probably also saved my life. If you hadn't taken out that
artillery pod--"
"If I had not, then the entire team would have been killed."
"They were using anti-radiation missiles. If you hadn't crawled
to within punching distance, then painted for the air strike
while practically within the blast radius..." She tilted her
head. "The next two missiles woulda killed me for sure."
* * * * *
"Armour Eleven!"
Roberts nodded. "It'd make a good base of operations, sir.
Mecha construction facilities, lots of spare parts."
"I was on board Armour Ten during Space War One. I know what
they carry." He shook his head. "We have to investigate the
site. It may contain some clue as to where they were going, or
what they're gonna do."
He turned and examined the TO&E. "I want Black's wing to check
out the crash site. Also, keep two Lightnings on Ready One, in
case they're needed. Mission to commence at 0600 tomorrow
morning."
"Aye, sir. Rules of engagement?"
He considered. "We need information more than we need dead
heroes. Level Three."
"Not to fire unless fired upon, or unless commander on site deems
it appropriate to mission success."
"Exactly." He turned and punched the intercom. "Sutton to
Kosuji."
"Kosuji here, Major."
"Captain, is Seraph 224 up?"
"Yes, sir. Her gripe list is almost clear."
"What's left?"
"IFF isn't working. Not a down gripe, but the bird can't be
wingman. She'll have to lead the wing, or you'll have to rewrite
doctrine."
"Will Black make any noise?"
"No, sir."
"Give her the wing. Black will still lead the flight. Orders to
follow."
"Yes, sir."
He released the intercom button. "Captain, I want you to direct
this mission. You'll know what you're looking for."
"From the front, sir?"
He glanced back at the TO&E. "There's no two-seater on the
entire base; I think you'd better handle it from CIC."
"Yes, sir." She saluted, turned and left.
* * * * *
Seraph 224 leaped off the runway like it had sat on a tack. Sora
couldn't help but let out a cheerful, "Yahoo!"
"Calm down, Raptor Two."
"Sorry, sir. Just glad to be in the air."
"Roger that." Black keyed the all-call. "Raptor Flight, form up
in ferry six. Hasukawa, take lead."
"Two." There was a question in her voice, but Seraph 224 slid
forward to the point position.
"Our destination is near Louang Namtha; set course 271 for 575
kilometers. Angels twenty, four hundred kilometers base.
Execute."
"Two."
"Three."
"Four."
"Five."
"Six."
* * * * *
Roberts glanced over at the navigation board. "Time to target is
one hour twenty-five minutes, correct?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"At seven-twenty, I want the Ready One birds rotated. Pull
Scorpio in from patrol, launch Leo, and put Aries on Ready Five."
"Yes, ma'am."
She sipped her coffee, and considered the board. "The Drogans
overflew Dien Chau; that would put them in the Gulf of Tonkin.
Somewhere."
"Could they have been making for Sanya, ma'am?"
"Possibly." She considered sending a recon team to check out
Sanya, then shook her head. "Let's wait and see what Raptor
develops."
* * * * *
"Area is cold. I've got a functioning heat pile at one end of
the complex, but emissions look low for an Armour."
"Noted." Black considered the tactical situation. The Armour
was crashed in a bowl-shaped depression, five miles in diameter.
The bowl was filled with jungle, save for immediately around the
Armour. Rocky ridges ringed the depression, sufficiently steep
to make a low-angle approach impossible.
"Maximum range for Zentraedi particle-based weaponry is close to
two miles...Ghost Lodge, this is Raptor One."
"Go ahead, Raptor."
"We are on site, and orbiting at five miles. No sign of enemy
activity, and we're not getting any thermals or active
electromagnetics."
"Roger that."
He hesitated. "Ghost Lodge, I'm gonna send one wing in to take a
closer look."
"Proceed with caution, Raptor."
"Of course. Raptor out." He clicked over to the Flight
frequency. "Raptor Five and Six. I want you to make a close
pass. If you spot anything at all, call it in immediately."
"Five."
"Six."
The two Valkyries broke off smoothly and started a close run on
the structure.
"Looks like the structure took a hell of a beating when it
crashed; I don't see a lot of stuff still intact." Raptor Five
adjusted his course, flying over the flight deck of the battered
starship. "Looks like those elevators have seen use, though.
And I've got some carbon scoring on the deck."
"Raptor Five. Any sign of anything hostile?"
"No, sir. Whatever was happening here, I think we missed it."
Black sighed. "Roger. Ghost Lodge, we're going in."
"Confirmed, Raptor. Good luck."
"Right." He tilted the Valkyrie, bringing it nose-on to the
warship. "Raptors Five and Six, switch to Soldier mode and
police the area. Raptor Two, you're with me; shift to Gerwalk."
"Two."
"Three and Four, stay high in Jet mode. Angels Fifteen." He
reached forward and pulled the G lever, and the fighter
reconfigured into Gerwalk mode. He adjusted his trim, and angled
to meet the flight deck.
And his RWR went wild, for just an instant, then the entire
cockpit went black. The flight controls went to mush in his
hands, but he could feel the jet starting to sink. He rammed the
throttle forward, stomped the rudder pedals, pulled back on the
stick, but the ship continued to plummet. EMP bomb, he thought,
and with that realization came the knowledge that even his
ejector controls would not work. His engines flamed out, and the
deck came rushing up at a horrible speed.
"Oh, sh--"
* * * * *
Sora watched in horror as Seraph 209 slammed into the Armour's
deck and exploded into a greasy fireball.
"This is Raptor Two to Ghost Lodge! Raptor One is down! And I
think Raptor Six is as well." The Soldier Valkyrie was face down
in the dirt, not moving. "I registered an enormous EMP spike
just before Raptor One went down; I think they had an EMP bomb."
"Three's hit!"
"What? Who's shooting?"
"Four. It looks like a Shilka. Hell, I count four of the damn
things!"
Sora gritted her teeth. "All units, break and attack!" She
thought the fighter through a punishing turn, readying her battle
rifle as she did. "Ghost Lodge, we need reinforcements right
now!"
"Roger, Raptor. Aries flight is launching now and will be
hypersonic in thirty seconds. ETA five minutes. Break contact
if you can."
"Understood, Ghost Lodge."
"Five. I'm picking up guidance radars, looks like a Tactical
Scout and some Artillery Pods. They're up on the ridge."
"Kuso...if we try to climb out of here, they'll take us apart."
She gritted her teeth. "We're gonna have to try to kill those
Shilkas."
* * * * *
"Aries Flight, go-mission."
"Roger!"
Ready One was a bit of a misnomer; the time to launch the Ready
One was just under ten seconds. The canopy was already closed;
Warrant Officer Chambers merely advanced the throttle to maximum,
and the VF-4A Lightning III lifted off vertically from the
runway. To his left, Barak 106 was launching in parallel.
"Aries Two, reconfigure and activate the rockets."
"Two."
The booster rockets, attached to the back of the modular
fighters, flared into life, and Chambers was slammed back into
his seat. The ten gees of acceleration provided by the two
massive rockets was dangerous, even with the fighter's
compensation gear, but the pilots were only exposed to it for
twenty seconds. But by the time the expended rockets were
ejected, the fighters were moving at close to seven thousand
kilometers per hour.
* * * * *
Seraph 211 had been badly hit by the Shilka, but was still
combat-worthy, and Rhodes pulled the bird around to engage her
attacker.
"Three's in and hot on missiles." Her Valkyrie bucked, as six
rockets were launched from the underwing pylons. The Shilka
ignored them, and hammered away at the jet itself. Rhodes yanked
the plane away from the tracers, managing to avoid getting hit,
and four of the six rockets slammed into the Shilka.
The others in the Flight were not doing as well. Five was pinned
down in Soldier mode, unable to leave cover. Four was covering
his wingman's six, and Sora herself was trying to get close to a
Shilka without being spotted...
The Shilka hammered the area around her fighter, one round
actually connecting with her ship's arm. She yelled in
transmitted pain as the explosive shell smashed through the left
arm's plating and detonated inside the arm. She viffed straight
up, catching the gunner by surprise, and hosed it down with fire
from her GU-11 cannon.
The Shilka made a very satisfying fireball, and she slid the
Gerwalk back under cover. A glance at the left arm told her that
this bird would be back on the down list for a while.
"I greased one. What's left?"
"Three. I killed mine, but that leaves the north gun and the
west gun still alive. Plus those artillery pods on the southeast
wall."
"Five. If one of you can distract the north gun, I can kill it."
"Three, strafe the north gun. Four, back me up, and we'll kill
the west gun."
"Roger, ma'am."
"Incoming! Rick, they're on you!"
The long-range Zentraedi missile slammed into Raptor Four, and
Seraph 212 came apart. Three other missiles detonated nearby,
their proximity warheads triggered by the first explosion.
"Crap, we're not gonna win this one. Aries, where are you?"
"Raptor, Aries. We are three minutes out. We have the artillery
spotted, and will clobber that first."
"Got it." She shifted to Soldier, relieved that her damaged
machine could still make that transformation, and reloaded her
GU-11. "I'm getting the west gun."
"Roger that. I'm starting my attack run on the north gun."
She thought the mecha into a staggering run, and a Zentraedi
missile slammed into the ground right where she had been
standing. Fragments peppered the Valkyrie, but not enough to
stop it. She jumped a ridge, a brief boost from her fusion
engines launching her over it, and sighted the west gun. She
doubted she could hit it, but fired a short burst from the GU-11
anyway. She hit the ground before they landed, and ran forwards.
"Three's in and hot on lasers."
Not much need for radio procedure, with half the flight already
out. The foliage and dirt around her was kicked up as the ZSU-23
fired in her general direction. Luck was not with the AA gunner
this time, and Hasukawa threw her mecha face down in the dirt,
the rifle/cannon extended before her.
"Goodbye."
She depressed the trigger and hosed down the Shilka, tearing it
open like a chainsaw through a pumpkin.
"Three's off target, and I've got a secondary!"
"Nice shooting, Three, but it's still tracking. Get down!"
"It missed, don't worry."
"About you?" Another explosion. "Never. Five's killed north
gun with Stinger missiles."
Hasukawa clicked her mike. "Roger that. Now we gotta take out
those artillery pods."
"Don't worry about those, Raptor. We'll deal with them.".
Hasukawa sighed. "About time the Cavalry showed up."
"Raptor, Ghost Lodge. Casualties?"
"Ghost Lodge, Raptor. Three fighters down, Lieutenant Black is
dead, but I think Supak and Tsushima are okay." She stood the
Soldier mode Valkyrie back up, and reconfigured to Gerwalk. "I
got a locator on Supak, he must've ejected, and Tsushima's
signaling from inside his Valkyrie." She winced; her left arm
still hurt like hell, the damage messages transferred in a most
convincing way through the Thinking Cap. "My jet is all torn up
as well."
"Roger that, Raptor. We are vectoring Leo to your position;
they'll assume your mission as soon as they arrive. Captain
Kosuji will take over; you can abandon your jet."
Sora scowled, and launched the Valkyrie into the air. "No way in
hell."
"Two?"
"I ain't ditching this bird." She brought the Valkyrie to its
best possible speed, and pointed it towards Haiphong. "Major
told me he'd ground me if I lost this ship. I ain't leavin' it
here. I don't care if it takes me a week to get back to Ghost
Lodge."
* * * * *
My thanks to ChaosBurnFlame and to Kitsy for ideas on this chapter.