Chapter 10
WSRDC, New Texas,
I had to fight to keep the blush from my face. To have an aerospace fighter named after me was embarrassing as hell. Even more embarrassing then after having one designated as a Claymore. But as I closed the canopy and pushed the throttles forward I could feel the excitement rising. Even with the sound dampening qualities of my helmet and the cockpit canopy I could hear and feel the massive rumble of the Pratt & Whitney R-4360-31 cyclone engines with duel thrusters. When Lilly’s voice came out of the speakers I was surprised by the quality and tone.

“Terresa, I think I’m in love with this new body Chief Daily built for us. I don’t have to fight with the C-n-C on board this airframe.” Lilly’s voice had a soft lilting quality to it now. Gone were the hard edges that came from the speakers in the Strike Eagles. Her voice now matched that when it was just her in my head.

“Let’s get off the ground before they catch us Lilly. I doubt that the Prince and my brother are going to stand for us taking out an extremely experimental aircraft right now. Now get us a course plotted for the Division Command Post, sister.” I was still pissed at losing that first Lightning to the Black Witch.

Lilly must have picked up on my anger over that loss as the growl that came in answer to my order reflected my own feelings. “Just get us off the ground sister dear. Then come right to heading one-four-eight. Then pour on the power.”

The radio crackled to life as I reached the hammerhead for runway one. “Unknown aircraft on runway one. Give your destination and id. Over”

I thought about that question. Then giggled as I keyed my mike. “Tower, this is Claymore flight zero-zero-one. Outbound for glory or death. Out”

I don’t even bother with further reply and shove the throttles to the stops. As I thundered down the runway I realize that we were only halfway down the strip and we were airborne. “MY GOD! This baby has power to spare.”

“Terresa, believe me when I say that we have yet to tape into the true power of this aircraft. I’ve had the engines throttled back to half until they are broke-in good. I won’t even go into the firepower this little beauty is hiding. The Chief was right when he described this aircraft.”

“Claymore zero-zero-one, just what the HELL do you think you’re doing? Over” I knew the voice before they even finish the second word.

“I’m going where I’m needed Alpha Tango Charlie. I told you before Slingshot I’m a Fighter pilot. This is my battle position. Over”

I knew that Sylvester was not going to take my answer well and I was right. “That is a negative Claymore flight. You are to return to base immediately. Over”

“Sorry no can do, Slingshot. I got a full load of Mavs, Snakes, and Hawks. Not to mention AC rounds. I got to drop more than half, or I plow in on the runway. So, I either help Delta Charlie or bomb the nearest merc post. Your choice. Over” I know that I just threw a monkey wrench into their works. I didn’t care either. I was headed for Division Command. “Lilly, how soon can we go to full military on the engines love?”

“Another five minutes Terresa. After that I can give you ninety percent on the engines. More than enough to get us there in time.”

I smiled behind my visor. I had already climbed to nine-hundred feet and set a course for the Division Command Post. I know that I’m running late but I have to try and help. I watch the timer on my HUD for the next five minutes. When it reaches zero Lilly slowly increases the power of the engines. Over the next ten minutes I watch the airspeed indicator climb steadily. I am amazed as my speed passes the Mach four mark as if it wasn’t there. Finally, at just over Mach four point nine my speed levels off. At this speed I’ll reach the battle in under five minutes.

“Lilly, are we really pushing Mach five?”

“We can go faster, Terresa. I just haven’t released the full power of our engines yet. I figure that they need more time to break in before going all out.”

“Holly shit! Lilly, you do know that no other fighter can match our current speed? Let alone anything faster than this. We’ll have to throttle back for combat maneuvers.” I couldn’t believe what I was saying. The FB-11 wasn’t a sportscar. It was a fracking rocket ship. NO! It was a demon of speed escaping from Hell.

“I doubt that we’ll have to slow down that much Terresa. The airframe is stressed for speeds and maneuvers at Mach six point eight. The only limit for this fighter is the pilot. Which in your case, there is none.”

The threat warning cutoff any more debate. I spotted the Ju-38 Stuka fighter bomber climbing fast to intercept me. I key my mike. “Black Eagle Six, this is Claymore flight zero-zero-one in bound from Whiskey Romeo Delta. Authenticate blue thunder how copy? over”

“Good copy Claymore flight. Authenticate Purple rain. Be advised that all aircraft in the area are hostile. I say again all aircraft are hostile. Over”

That was all I needed to hear to send the Stuka to the happy hunting grounds. I announced my arrival over the battlefield by downing the Stuka with a bust from all eight of my PPCs at once. Even through all the soundproofing of my cockpit canopy and helmet that one attack sounded as if the God Thor himself attacked the Stuka.

I rolled right to clear the falling wreckage of the Stuka and dropped towards the deck. I knew where my next targets would be waiting. I miss judged my speed and overshot my targets. The three RD-4S Wrights flipped over in the wake of my passing. At so low to the ground the Wrights were unable to recover in time before crashing into the ground. “My GOD LILLY! WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?!”

“We caught them in our backwash Terresa. I think that our new fighter might be just a little overpowered for what it is designed to be.”

“YOU THINK!” I couldn’t believe what had happened. Little did I know that my speed and attacks was causing sonic booms on the battlefield below. Nor did I realize the impact those sonic booms were having on the battle. I pulled back on the stick and climbed to find my next target. As I broke through the cloud cover there they were. Four KV-81 Sturmgewehr’s setting up for another attack run on the base below. As we closed I scanned for the one KV-81 Sturmgewehr that I really wanted.

“Damn it Terresa that bitch isn’t here. Why isn’t she here?!”

“Calm down Lilly. We deal with these four first. Then we go hunting the Black Bitch. Understood?” I needed Lilly to concentrate on the targets in front of us. “Besides if she’s not here, then we damaged her more than we thought.”

“Alright Terresa, but I still want that bitch.” I would swear that Lilly was ready to spit nails over not being able to fight Emily Calisto. I open the throttles to the max and nose over on the Sturmgewehr’s. The poor dumb bastards don’t even realize that I’m on their six o’clock high before it’s too late. I start firing at seven hundred meters shifting between the PPCs and PPLs. The speed and unexpected attack catches them all off guard. In my first pass I destroy two of the heavy fighters. Once I’m clear I pull up hard on the stick and climb again. Only this time I head straight for the two remaining Sturmgewehr’s. I get a hard lock whistle from my missiles and fire. I watch as two Maverick air-to-air missiles leave their launch rails heading for the enemy at over Mach four. Between my sudden change in direction and the speed of the Mavericks the two KV-81 Sturmgewehr’s never had a chance. They died the way they live. Fast and violently.

“Terresa, come hard left to course three-two-nine. Six heavy bombers inbound. From my scans we’re looking at Avro Mk-1 Manchester Heavies. Terresa those bombers carry enough ordinance to flatten the base.”

“Shit! So much for hunting the Bitch. Time for that later.” I pull hard on the stick and stand on the left rudder pedal. As I head for the bombers I run through the weaknesses for Manchester bomber. The more I scan the more I want to spit nails. The Manchester is a damned flying fortress. They’re as fast as most fighters and pack enough armor that I’ll need the autocannon and Sidewinder Rattlesnake ATA missiles to bring them down. As much as I hate this I flip the arming switch for the autocannon to arm. “Okay Lilly. Let’s get to work.”

I push the throttles forward once more, so I can get some altitude on the bombers. I know coming in from above is risky as all hell, but it is the only way to attack heavy bombers in formation. You dive down through them with guns blazing. All while hoping their defensive weapons don’t get a lock on you. Bombers maybe slow compared to a fighter, but they pack a shit load of anti-air defensive weapons. As I reach my attack position I spot my biggest worry. The escort fighters.

“Lilly, I know that I am not seeing what I am seeing.”

“I wish I could lie and ease your mind Terresa. Those are one-oh-nines straight out of hell. I count eight.” That was two for every bomber. Bf-109E fighters are a true nightmare in the skies. And I had the pleasure of taking on eight of them AND trying to stop a flight of Manchester bombers.

“Frack it! Glory or death!” I called out as I dive on the bombers. “Hang on to your ass Lilly here we go!”

“Death or Glory Terresa! It has been an honor to fly with you if we don’t make it!”

The fact that we were both having to scream over the roar of the engines was not lost on me. from twelve-hundred feet I dived on the bombers gaining speed with every passing hundred feet. My altimeter was whirling around like the second hand of a stopwatch. I rocket in from the six o’clock high position on the bombers. Their tail-gunners are the first to spot me and open up with heavy pulse laser fire. I return fire using my PPLs. I know that they’ll only peal paint at this range, but it will hopefully throw off their targeting. Lilly gets a double hard lock for the Sidewinders. I pull the trigger twice and two of those aircraft killers leave their launch rails. I don’t bother to follow them in with my eyes. Those babies are radar guided and they don’t miss.

As I pass through the tight formation two of the bombers explode. I drop over three hundred feet below the formation before pulling back on the stick and looping back up and over the formation. Not even the 109s can follow me. Both the fighters and the bombers have lost me in the smoke of the twin explosions and the clouds bellow. They were not expecting me to come at them head on firing the autocannon at point-blank-range. I send a double burst into the cockpits of the two lead aircraft. Both bombers are hit full on by two, three-round bursts that tears apart their cockpits sending them plummeting to the ground in uncontrollable spirals.

I’m not as lucky getting out this time as I am greeted by the 109s as I come out of my attack. I feel the pounding of heavy gunfire along my left wing and left engine boom. I double check the readout for damage in those areas. I am amazed to find that neither of them are flashing the warning yellow of being damaged. In fact, they’re still showing green. Even with all the high stress maneuvers that I have pulled none of my control surfaces or airframe indicators show any damage. I feel the smile I wear just crack my lips. I knew that I was now the apex predator in the skies. I was the one that was the hunter. The Death Dealer battle cry may strike fear into the hearts of their opponents but in the skies it would be the faint smile of a Claymore that would bring terror now.

As I sped passed the 109s I return the favor of their attack. I target and fire on their tail-end-Charlie. The poor bastard takes the full brunt of my PPLs. I keep waiting to hear the overheat warnings from all this combat, but they have yet to come. I double check those gages as they mean life or death in combat. What I find amazes me beyond belief. The gages couldn’t be right.

“Lilly, are we really running and gunning that cold?”

“The weapons, engines, and heatsink gages are working correctly Terresa. I’m just as astonished as you are over this. I can only attribute this to a combination of our speed and the oversized heatsinks that Chief Daily installed.”

I want to finish this conversation, but those last two bombers were getting close to their bomb run initiation points. I pull Railly twist at just over Mach four to lose the 109s and climb. At twelve-hundred feet I nose back over and sweep right into a drive on the last bombers. Once again, the whistle of a hard target lock screams in my ears as the bombers come into line. At just over two miles I pull the trigger and two Sidewinder Rattlesnakes leave their launch rails. I pull the trigger a second time sent a second and the last of those killers after the bombers. With two air-to-air aircraft killers screaming toward them at over Mach four the bombers never stood a chance in hell.

I turn my attention back to the seven very angry 109s out to get revenge for the deaths of their charges. As I pull out of the unexpected maneuver I get the steady whistling tone of a hard target lock for my remaining six Maverick missiles. I glance at my HUD and see six solid green crosshairs painted on the 109s. I don’t even think twice and pull the trigger six times. I feel my last six Sidewinders leap from their launch rails and scream towards the targeted 109s.

While the Maverick air-to-air missile lacks the explosive punch of the Sidewinder Rattlesnake it more than makes up for it in pure kinetic energy punch. As the six missiles rocket towards their intended targets I shift my attention to the remaining 109. This one is going to be a pain in the ass for me. The pilot is already pealing off in an attempt to escape the battle. Even as I roll the stick and point my nose to follow the escaping 109 the Mavericks reach their final attack range. At just over two-hundred meters the missiles second-sage boosters kicked in and drove the warheads to their final attack velocity. At just over Mach 8 the solid core tungsten long rod penetrators slam home on the fuselages of the 109s. The sheer kinetic force of those six pieces of metal is enough to crush a five-story building. The light thirty-ton escort fighters never stood a chance.

As the six doomed 109s fell towards earth I zeroed in on the last remaining 109. I slide in behind the poor bastard and flip the arming switch for the autocannon. I want to get this over with fast. He jinks right then slip slides left followed up with a snap roll to climb out of my firing arch for the autocannon. I have to give the pilot his props. The man is good, but not good enough. Not good enough by far. I pull back and left on the stick give a little right rudder and fall right back onto his six o’clock. My crosshairs flash green and pull the trigger. The three-round burst slams into the tail section of the 109. My smile grows even wider as the 109 goes into a slow lefthanded roll smoking. I stay with the 109 and fire one more time. This time the burst stiches down the fuselage on the right-hand side. The 109 jerks up out of its lefthanded roll. I watch as the pilot ejects from the doomed fighter and drops out sight.

“Terresa, come left, head two-eight-zero, and drop to three-hundred feet. There are four PBY-seventy-six King Fish ground attack fighters setting up for an attack run. We might not be able to stop them all, but we can drive them off.”

I don’t even argue with Lilly and do as she tells me. as I drop through the clouds and down to 300 feet, I spot the four ground attack fighters. At seventy-tons these are some of the heaviest ground attack aerospace fighters built. I knew that my beam weapons won’t do much against their armor, but my autocannon could punch holes. Big damned holes through that armor. “Lilly give me an ammo count, love”

“For missiles we’re down to the Mark eight Hawk ATGs. Autocannon rounds are down to one-hundred-and-twenty-six. All beam weapons are fully functional and fully charged. In short Terresa we’re down to direct fire weapons for air-to-air combat and a small ground attack ability.”

I was brought up short by the number of autocannon rounds. “Lilly are you sure about the autocannon rounds? I only fire four times.”

The sigh that came from the speakers told me Lilly was not happy about me questioning her numbers. “Terresa, you were told to go light on the trigger for the AC. You pulled the trigger on that beast eight times. That’s twenty-four rounds out of one-hundred and fifty in total. Now get your head back in the game. We’re dropping on those King Fish fast. Remember go light on the trigger for the autocannon.”

“Yes mom.” I quipped as I rolled over to line up on the lead King Fish. I almost laugh that I’m playing chicken at close to Mach two with this slow moving subsonic fighter. I hear the whistle for a target lock and pull the trigger. Once again my autocannon roars spitting out a three-rounds burst of death and destruction. Unlike my attack on the 109 the PBY-76 shrugs off the autocannon attack. I know that it will take more than just a three-round burst to bring down those heavily armored fighters. The damned things are flying tanks. I jerk back on the stick and pop up and over the lead fighter. I let the lead pass beneath me and fire on the next PBY-76.

Once again, I leapfrog over my target as it shrugs off my attack. I keep doing this with the last two PBY-76s. My aim is not to destroy them in one pass but to drive them off or break up their attacks on the base. I know using the AC is using ammunition like crazy, but it is guaranteed to gain their attention. As I pull up and swing around I scan for the four PBY-76s. I find them alright, and I let my smile grow to the point that teeth would be showing if not for my visor.

My plan to force them to scatter worked better than I expected. In fact, I could pick them off one at time. Yet I don’t have too. They’re all running from the battle zone as fast as their engines can push the airframes. With this threat removed from the skies the ground forces of Division Command will be able to retake first the base and then secure the surrounding area.

Keying my mike, I contact Division Command. “Black Eagle Six, this is Claymore zero-zero-one, Over”

“Claymore zero-zero-one, this is Black Eagle Six, good to hear from you. Over”

“IT’s good to be able to talk to you Six. We own the skies. Over”

“Thanks, Claymore. Any chance you can do something about those Long Toms that are raising hell with our ground forces. Over”

I ran what was left of my armament load out through my head. “Black Eagle Six, I have six Mark eight Hawk Alpha Tango Gulfs on the rails. Where and when do you want them? Over”

“Grid seven-seven-eight by one-six-five bearing one-one-five. How copy? Over”

I quickly input the grid coordinates into the onboard navigation system. Lilly takes things further. She places a topographical map up for me with the coordinates marked in red. “Seven-seven-eight by one-six-five, Black Eagle. Call in for the coffee and cigs, Black Eagle. One hot rain delivery on the way. Out”

“Good hunting Claymore. We’ll send Jocker the bill for your coffee and cigs. Out”

I climb to eight-hundred feet and level off before setting course for the target. This is one time that altitude is needed more than speed. I even pull back on the throttles dropping my airspeed down just over four-hundred knots. I switch over from air-to-air radar to my ground acquisition and train following radar. I grin as the old saying about aerial combat comes to mind.

“One minute you’re in a dog fight, fighting for your life. The next you’re on a bombing run.” I say to nobody really.

“Terresa what in the world are you talking about? And who are you talking to?”

“It’s an old saying about aerial combat Lilly. What it means is you never know what you’ll be faced with in aerial combat from one minute to the next. As for who I’m talking to it was just myself.” I really wanted to find those artillery pieces and put those six ground attack missiles to their best use.

“You know that talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity right Terresa?”

I start laughing when I hear this from Lilly. Normally the only person that can hear her is me. And that is just in my head. “Lilly, you do know that if hearing voices that no one else can is also a sign of insanity, right?”

“I refuse to accept that as a reason to define insanity from sanity. Heads up sis. We’re coming up on the target zone.”

I took a good look at the target zone and shit. You couldn’t have found a better natural defense position for an artillery battery. Sheer canyon walls on two sides going into a box canyon. With the valley entrance leading away from the base and a thousand-foot-tall mountain giving them cover from return fire. I start hearing the slow steady beep of the Hawks scanning for targets. When I don’t get the solid whistle tone of a hard lock I know that I’ll have to overfly the valley.

I reach the far end and swing around for a better attack vector. This time I spot the flashes of the Long Toms firing. The flashes tell me two things. First, I don’t have enough Hawks to kill them all. Second, is the size of the guns. “Sweet Mother of the Goddess, Lilly! Those have to be sixteen inchers down there.”

“Terresa I have finished analyzing the scans. You’re right about the size of those guns. I have also found the munition haulers. I don’t understand why but they are all circled up in the center of the guns. Terresa look at the overhang of the eastern wall. We drop our Hawks in a staggered formation on the haulers the resulting shockwaves could bring down the whole eastern wall on top of the Long Toms.”

I looked at what Lilly was talking about. Sure enough, if I dropped the Hawks the way Lilly talked about it could result in the total collapse of the eastern wall. Then I spotted the fault in her plan. I needed to weaken the overhang before it would collapse. One of the good things about using Mark eight Hawk ground attack missiles is they don’t rely on gravity to get them to their target. I reset the targeting for two of my missiles. Once I have individually targeted each missile I pulled the trigger for all six missiles. I watch them fall away from my fighter before lighting off their rocket boosters.

Over the next seven seconds I watch as the six missiles race towards their explosive ends. The first two slam into the eastern wall just bellow a massive crack in the rockface that runs horizontal to the overhang. Their attack would ensure that what the other four do succeeds. As those four missiles reach their target the explosion is amplified by the munitions carried by the haulers for the Long Toms. Even at eight-hundred feet above the valley I have to fight for control from the shockwave. I knew that I was about to raise unholy hell in that valley, but I had greatly underestimated the explosive power of those sixteen-inch high explosive rounds.

The sympathetic explosions of those massive artillery rounds shook not only the air but the very ground of the valley floor. Once I regained control over my fighter I continue to circle the valley looking for signs that my attack succeeded. It started slowly at first just a slight shifting of the trees on the mountain. Then slowly like some forgotten giant waking from a long deep endless slumber the mountain side began to roll downhill. It was like a great hand reached up and grabbed hold of the valley walls and pulled them inward. I watched in fascination as the once great valley walls crashed down around the artillery unit.

“Terresa, I hate to tell you this, but we need to breakoff operations.”

“What? Why? We can still help out with the defense of the Division Command Post.” I snapped out angerly.

“No, we can’t Terresa. Check the fuel gage. We’re down past the halfway mark. We can no longer perform combat operations and safely return to base. As it is we will need a mid-air refuel to land safely.”

I did as Lilly asked and started cussing like a star sailor. Keying my mike, I gave into the inevitable. “Black Eagle Six, this is Claymore zero-zero-one. Over”

“Claymore zero-zero-one go for Black Eagle Six. Over”

“Black Eagle the skies are clear, and the Long Toms silenced. Over”

“Copy Claymore. Thanks for the cover. Over”

“No problem on the cover Black Eagle. Got some bad news for you. I’m short on go-go juice and bingo on missiles. Sorry guys but you’re on your own from here. Over”

“No problem Claymore. We’re starting clean up operations now. You took out those guns and the fight left the Op-For. Head on home we got more top cover inbound. Your Chief arranged for a gas station to meet you halfway. How copy? Over”

Those last few words were sweat honey to my ears. “Good copy Black Eagle. Have a nice day and send the bill to Joker for my cigs and Scotch. Claymore out.”

I turned to the heading that would take me home. I really wanted to stretch the legs on my new fighter, but I just didn’t have the fuel reserves for that. With great restraint I flew at a leisurely pace towards White Sands. I had not realized just how fast or far I had traveled when I first left the base. What had taken me a mere half hour to cover now was taking me close to three hours. The power, speed, and straight of the FB-11 is amazing. I know that I will never want to fly another aircraft again into combat. I spot the KC-135 Stratotanker just before I reach the one-third mark on my fuel gage. After listening to the boom operator guide me in and fifteen minutes later I had a full tank of go-go juice.

As I pulled away I signaled the operator thanks and flew on towards WSRDC. As I approach I am greeted by the CAP fighters pulling in on my portside wingtip. “Having fun there, Scorpion? Over”

“More fun than a barrel full of monkeys, Shaggy. What’s the condition of the airstrips? Over” I asked of Captain Heartwell as I headed for runway number one.

“Two and three are cleared and open for operations Scorpion. One is in use for rescue flight operations. We got a real shit storm on our hands here Scorpion. We got flights from all over the planet coming in. Over”

Heartwell told me more in those few words than I expected over an open network. If runway one was being used for rescue operations only then the planet wide situation was bad. “How many flights are inbound Shaggy? Over”

“Got four A-400 Atlas’ in the pattern right now, Scorpion. Over”

Shit that was not good news. If the brass is already bringing in the A-400’s for rescue operations that means the shit really hit the fan. And not just at Division Command. It was everywhere. “Shaggy, just how deep is the brown smelly stuff? Over”

“Got a bucket loader handy Scorpion. Over”

Our conversion gets interrupted by a every unwelcome voice. “Claymore zero-zero-one this White Sands air traffic control. Over”

“White Sands control this is Claymore zero-zero-one over” I know I should sigh but I do anyway. I know that my time in the air is over and with it most likely my time as a fighter pilot. “Well, Lilly looks like our last flight has been our best.”

“Agreed Terresa. This has been one hell of a flight. Maybe we can get a job flying a crop-duster on your home planet.”

“Claymore zero-zero-one come right to heading two-two-zero and descend to one-five-zero and squawk for intent. Over”

“Copy White Sands, come right to two-two-zero, and descend to one-five-zero. Squawk intent. Over” I replied. Then lined up for final approach for landing. “Lilly have you completed your analyses of the battle yet?”

“Yes, I have Terresa. What is it you wish to know?”

“Did it seem like that our missiles and weapons were having a greater impact than they should have, or it is just my imagination?”

“Not really when you consider that every shot fired, every missile launched, was targeted for a weakness in the enemy craft. Something that only you could have done. You are unique among pilots Terresa. No other can do what you can.”

“Wait are you telling me that I was the one making all those targeting solutions?”

“That is exactly what I am saying Terresa. It was taking all of my computational power to just keep up with tracking and finding targets for you to engage and control the engines, heatsinks, and other flight control systems. All combat decisions were totally up to you. Terresa, I will be honest with you. Your ability to multitask outstrips even mine.”

I had to put the thoughts of what Lilly just told aside for now. I was on final approach for landing. I was in the last seven seconds. Again, I am forced to remember the words of a Flight Instructor. ‘Five and seven Cole. Always remember those two numbers. The deadliest times during every flight are the first five minutes and last seven minutes. Those are the times that you are the closest to the ground with no room for recovery if you screwup.’

“Claymore zero-zero-one you are cleared to land. Welcome home Scorpion.”

“Copy tower touching down now. Good to be home.” I feel my rear landing gear touchdown first then a few seconds later the nose gear. I’m down safe and sound. I let out the breath I was holding. “Takeoffs are optional. Landings are mandatory.”

“I take it that is an old saying between pilots, Terresa?” Lilly asked me. “The reason I ask is because of the five and seven comment you always make before and after a flight.”

“Sure is Lilly. One those two are the most important rules every pilot learns on the first day of Flight School. You forget them and you’re dead on the tarmac.” I told her with real passion as I pulled in behind the guide truck. I explained what they meant over the next ten minutes as the truck led us over to a bunker where a tug hooked up to my nose gear then backed us into the bunker.

I was still shutdown the engines when Chief Daily and his ground crew swarmed the aircraft. I had just gotten the canopy popped when Chief Daily attached the ground ladder and was climbing up the side to help me out of the pilot’s seat and harness. As pulled my helmet over my head I smiled up that the grinning Chef Warrant Officer.

“That was one hell of a show you put on up there, Lieutenant. I knew you were hot shit on the stick but to take out an experimental airframe and claim eighteen air victories is unheard of. On any planet! That gives you what? Thirty-one aircraft kills, and one ship kill now?”

“It’s thirty-two aircraft kills, Chief and one ship kill. Add in the two ground attack missions and I had one hell of a combat career. Too bad it’s over before I can paint any of the stars on the nose.” I told him honestly and with great sadness.

“I don’t think so ma’am. I was in the CP monitoring your flight and you should have heard what the Colonel and Major Cole were saying. Suffice to say I doubt you’ll be grounded anytime soon.” There was something about Chief Daily’s encouraging words that lifted my sprits as I climbed down from the cockpit. Once on the ground I turned to face the three people I really didn’t want to see on the flight line.

“Flight Lieutenant First Class Cole if it was up to me your happy little ass would be grounded until doomsday. After that the only job you would be able to get is piloting a dropship with a cargo of nothing but rubber dogshit, exploding cigars, and cupie dolls out of Neo Taiwan!” I knew then and there I had royally screwed the pooch. Colonel Nakatoma wasn’t even finished with chewing my ass out and he was already threatening me with lifetime grounding. “Fortunately for you Eagle Six has stepped in on your behalf.”

Sylvia gave me the gambit eye as she stepped forward to take over for the Colonel. “Lieutenant Cole, you’re to report to Medical for a post flight EVAL. Where in it will be determined if you’re fit enough to continue flight operations.”

“Only after you have been cleared for flight operations will you be allowed near YOUR fighter. Sorry, Lieutenant but that’s how it has to be.” Colonel Nakatoma told me with a grim look to his face.

“Yes sir. I understand. I pulled a boneheaded stunt and have to pay the price.” I answered meekly. I knew I had screwed up by disobeying orders, but I wasn’t going to try and talk my way out of my actions by justifying them.

“Good. Now that we have the compulsory ass chewing out of the way. How does that beautiful little fighter of yours handle?” I had to blink twice at hearing this sudden change in mood by the Colonel. The man’s mood was like Quick Silver. I take a few seconds then give him a mile-wide smile. When Sylvia and Sylvester saw this they both groan causing Colonel Nakatoma to give them a strange look. “I take it by your groans that the Lieutenant smiling is not a good thing?”

“You could say that sir. You could say that.” Sylvester sighed out as he gave me a sideways look. “Alright sis, out with it.”

“I can only say this about the FB-eleven. She handles like a speed demon straight out of hell on rails, jacked up on pure Blue Diamond crystal.” When I reference the latest illegal speed drug to plague the Empire.

“Holy shit! Just how fast is that bird?” Sylvia asked me.

“I haven’t really had a chance to stretch her legs yet, but I did hit Mach five point five during combat operations.” I gave her a sheepish smile.

“FIVE POINT FIVE MACH!” this time it not Lieutenant Colonel Nakatoma that was talking but the Crown Prince. “Just how fast can that beast over there go?”

“To be honest sir. I don’t have a clue. I do know that the airframe is stressed for combat maneuvers at Mach six point eight. Taking that into account I would hazard to that the Claymore’s top speed is somewhere around Mach eight or so in flat level flight. As for maneuverability she moves and acts like a ballet dancer.”

“Damn. I hope that you’re not the only pilot that fly that fighter?” the Crown Prince asked of me in true awe.

“Sir, I have to say that I don’t really know. What I do know is that whoever pilots a FB-eleven had better be equipped with a Death Dealer AI. Just to be able to handle the engines, navigation, and anti-targeting control systems. I had to turn over all control of those vital systems to my own AI during the fight. I had my hands full just flying that beautiful little Dealer of Death from the skies.” I know that my answer threw them all for a loop by the looks on their faces.

“I take it that the Claymore lives up to its proud name?” Prince James asked of me.

I smiled even wider as Chief Daily walked up behind me when I answered the Prince. “Oh, she does sir. She lives up to both of her names sir.”

“Aye, sir. I would even say that she goes beyond just living up to her name. She fast, she’s small, and above all else she’s deadly as all hell. Just like the lady she was named after, sir.” Chief Daily said with pride. Then he smirked. “The first ever Claymore truly is a Silver Eyed Witch.”

Amazon Super Carrier Anaconda, just offshore in the Sea of Galveston
Emily Calisto was in a great mood as she climbed down from her beloved fighter, Marybelle. The raid on the Imperialist compound had gone perfectly. Within the first ten minutes her Squadron had swept aside any and all resistance from their fighters. The reports coming from the other raids just buoyed her spirits all the more. Everything had gone right. Her plan was perfect. They owned the skies over New Texas and nobody was going to take them back.

Nothing was going to bring her down. Not today, nothing was going to bring down her joyous mood. Of the forty Imperialist bases all but ten had been attacked in the first raids. That didn’t count the twenty suspected rebel bases that were bombed. Emily had planned every attack down to the last second. Even now Emily could see the total rout of the Empire’s military all across the planet. With one master stroke of genius she had elevated her family above all others.

As she walked towards the Control Tower Emily let her smile play across her face. When her Crew Chief approached her Emily Calisto smiled even broader. “Chief prep for the next mission. Full combat loadout on all pylons Chief. I’m going to go grab something to eat while you take care of that.”

“Sorry my Lady, but the Admiral has ordered you to report to him first.” For the Crew Chief to contradict her on the flight line meant that it was important.

“Thank you, Chief. Still see to rearming Marybelle.” Emily continued on inside, not giving the Chief another thought. After all he was of the Worker Class, a drone, nothing more than that in her mind. Just as were all of the enlisted members of the Amazon military forces. Only the officers were High Class and worth her attention.

As she took the left to the Command Deck Emily went over the next rounds of attack in her mind. “Unless those fools in the army failed to carry out their orders. We should have total military dominance of New Texas by sunset tomorrow. By this time tomorrow the Army should have five full Armored Division with APS support planet side ready to attack. While what is left of the Imperialists will have been forced on to that worthless R-n-D base in the middle of the Great White Desert. And the civilian rebels will be meat for our grinder.”

When the door opened Emily was not met with the praise she expected but very harsh glares from the Fleet Admiral and Commanding General. As she bowed to the two Commanders Emily wondered what had happened. She didn’t have long to wait in finding out the problem. “Flight Leader Calisto what do you know about this new attack fighter of the Imperialist dogs’?”

Emily was brought up short by this question of the Admiral’s. “Sir, as far as I know there is only the experimental fighters at the R-n-D base. They are not even fitted with proper AI’s for testing purposes. The Strike Eagle is nothing more than a glorified attempt to catch up with our Sturmgewehr.”

“That is not the fighters we are talking about Flight Leader. The one we’re talking about is the twin-boom nightmare that swept our air support from the skies over the Empire’s One-hundred-and-first Divisional Compost. All by itself!” The general scream at the top of his lungs.

Emily had to blink then fight back her natural response to scream at the superior officer in return. “Sir, I do not know of any such fighter. The only fighters that have the twin tail-boom configuration are the P-Thirty-eights Lightings medium weight fighter, and the heavier P-sixty-one Black Widow multirole fighter/bomber. Both of which have neither the range nor the firepower to take on what was assigned for the attack on the Death Dealer Command Post.”

The thought of at least not a single aircraft could ran through Emily’s head. The thought of there being a third type of forked-tailed devil was not one Emily enjoyed. Black Widows and Lightnings are hard enough to deal with. The only way to insure a kill against either of those two nasty fighters was to get them down low close to the ground in a narrow valley or through overwhelming numbers. These two fighters were well known, and both had earned their rather colorful nickname of forked-tailed devils. For there to be third type was not welcome news.

Emily’s fears were confirmed by the General waved at one of the bridge crew. “Put up the video from the gun cameras Seaman. Care to explain just what this aircraft is then Flight Leader?”

There in the holo-tank was an aircraft that should not exist. Every line of the aircraft screamed with deadly intent and hostile beauty. The most striking feature was the distinctive twin booms and a central nacelle containing the cockpit and armament. At first glance Emily would have sworn that she was looking at a cross between the P-38 and P-61. Yet this fighter lacked the distinctive ‘hump’ of the P-61 and had twice the power and weapons of the P-38. Emily could tell that this fighter was of a totally new and untested design. A fighter that was designed to one thing and one thing only, kill other aerospace fighters. It was a true air supremacy fighter unlike any other.

“That sir is a totally new design and one that we must have.” Emily didn’t even bother with hiding her jealousy over the fact that the Empire had such a fighter. “That aerospace fighter is pure death in the air. I fear what it will be like to face one in the cold black of space. That is if this video is accurate.”

“It is accurate Flight Leader. We lost every aircraft you had assigned for the support of the attack on the Empire’s Division Command Post. The only exception was the four PBY seventy-six King Fish that were assigned as close air support. If it had not been for their heavy armor I doubt that any of those air craft would have survived a second attack though. We count no less than eight PPCs, twenty PPLs, an autocannon, and pylons for twenty missiles. We have estimated that this fighter could be fitted with both missiles and bombs, but the payload cannot exceed half the gross weight of this fighter. Placing the payload around thirty to thirty-five hundred pounds. That does not include the autocannon munnions.” Emily gave the holo-tank technician a harsh look but said nothing.

“So, Flight Leader, any clue as to where the Imperialists came by such an advanced fighter? One that could change the tide of battle so easily.” The Admiral asked Emily Calisto in a cold tone that did not speak well of her future.

“The White Sands Reach and Development Center has everything needed for them to not only build but test a fighter like that. We should have the Center under our control no later than tomorrow afternoon, sir. When that happens, we can build as many of those new fights as we wish.” Emily was sure that her plan was still on track.

“I doubt that will be happening anytime soon Flight leader. Thanks to that fighter we do not have control of the skies. That belongs to the Empire. We may have the edge in numbers, but they have the edge in technology. Even the Strike Eagles have handed our fighters and ground forces a resounding defeat. Until we can take that new fighter out of the equation or take the WSRDC we have reached a stalemate. We will be consolidating our gains before continuing with further attacks. Dismissed.”

Emily wanted to call the Admiral a coward and worse but her genetic programing overrode her temper once more. With a salute she turned and left the Bridge. Once outside again Emily noticed that fighters were returning but none were launching. “Those damned cowards. We only needed forty more hours and the planet would have been ours. I know that my plan was working. Why have they just decided to stop? Do they have no honor? NO desire for glory?”

“I can answer that for you Flight Leader.” As Emily turned to face the person who spoke she was brought up short. The Religious Cast rarely traveled aboard military ships in the Amazon Collective. “The Admiral and General do not fear combat as you would believe. No instead they fear the loss of ground and success that has been paid for in the blood of their fellow soldiers. They will fortify what we have gained today and resupply before moving onto the next line of targets.”

“I’m sorry Priest, but I fail to see the need for such timed reactions. We have the momentum now. We should be pushing for more ground not consolidating and resupplying. Defense will not win this war for us.” Emily knew that she was right.

The Priest just sighed and turned to walk away saying. “Westmoreland thought as you do and time proved him wrong as well.”

Emily waited until she was alone again before turning to look out over the waters surrounding the Super Carrier. “Besides out there right now is a true foe worthy of my talents. One that will test both my skills and Marybelle’s metal.” Emily sighed. “Oh what a Glorious day that shall be when we finally meet. It shall truly be Glory or Death for one of us. What a way to die.”

-----tbc-----