Sharing Information: Discovery

Discovery - Taylor Alexander

12:14 AM |

Diposkan oleh Plunturan Bersatu |

His left wingman was just destroyed in a ball of energized plasma, and the enemy fighters maneuvered to complete their attack. Jeff stole a glance out his right wing and was reassured by Quedocdo’s remaining tightly formed Cooja fighter. Several close shots and a pair of missiles launched caused them both to pitch up, then right, and finally down with a following increase to maximum thrust that caused him to nearly lose consciousness. Jeff raced for the planet’s surface with Quedocdo flying cover. Less than three minutes to impact the surface. The g-forces from the constant tight maneuvering was excruciating and the remaining wingman screamed in protest.

The enemy was keenly aware of his formation’s lack of reserves and continued toattack like wolves sensing an injured prey. Jeff was not about to give up, because to do so would mean certain failure and possible death. What was the count now? Five to one… and the enemy had the advantage. It didn’t matter, it would take only one well placed shot to end his life. The ship’s warning sensors also screamed their protest at his high g maneuvers. Jeff would have lost consciousness countless times except the specially designed seat continued to squeeze the right amount of blood from his lower extremities to his brain, which in turn caused a massive headache. He cursed that the fighter was able to take much more stress than the human body. A dozen times he felt like punching the override and taking the compensation system offline. Jeff felt a gray out would be a better measure of one’s limit. Those damn sensors would allow for the greatest degree of stress without killing the pilot, a condition that, for his physiology, was difficult to get accustomed to. A half dozen balls of plasma energy from his rear to front signaled he was again nearly destroyed. Sweat began to fill the space between his flight suit and skin which in turn started to interrupt the biofeedback connection that kept the fighter from overstressing the pilot. Another Master Caution light on the malfunction panel warned of the loss of feedback. Jeff looked at the bright red warning light and punched the reset as a terrain warning flashed red. Another string of bright blue plasma pulses streaked across his canopy and disappeared in the distance. Too close. The terrain was coming up too fast. Level off now, his mind screamed, buying another second longer might help to fool the pursuers. Most had positioned relatively above his intended path, so when he did pull out he and his wingman would have to fly through a wall of deadly cannon fire.

Quedocdo was prepared. Jeff transmitted, “Now!” In unison both fighters rolled 180 degrees and pulled back hard to arrest their perpendicular dash to the surface. The enemy’s momentary hesitation doomed the four fighters that had continued the vertical dash. The g-meters read 12.65 at their highest point. The enemy fighter that was following below their flight path had begun to pull up early, but when it noticed the deception, it too rolled to continue chase. So did the three positioned above the fleeing Cooja fighters. Jeff and Quedocdo barely cleared the lush vegetation of the valley floor. The enemy wasn’t as lucky. All four craft that were giving chase crashed into the forest. That left the six enemy fighters that had raced to the far end of the mountain pass in an effort to lie in ambush.

With the safety of distance, Jeff asked, “Quedocdo, do you want to call it a day and dash for the comfort and protection of the Katvanshevic?”

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