Stories set in the Dropverse.
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Post by Mr.prowler » Sat Jul 06, 2019 7:45 pm

Here is my potato of a first attempt at writing.
Hope it is worth something :?

UCMS Torchlight
Richtofen class strike carrier
60,000 feet above Eden VII
342 miles East of New Lima
April 4th 2670 AD

Major Daniel MacMillan

The hangar bay of the UCMF Torchlight was like a bees nest. Busy techs in yellow and black uniforms running about, prepping birds for launch while announcements sounded over the horn.
"General Quarters, General Quarters. All hands to action stations. Set material condition 'Zebra' throughout the ship. General Quarters.."
Large trolleys of 40mm shells were being quickly towed from plane to plane, fuel cells pumped and sealed in short order. Pilots in grey uniform raced up ladders to reach their planes on the tri-tiered holding racks, signaling flight staff and elevator control as the roaring sound of jet engines began to fill the air. Sharp and angular interceptors were carried on overhead gantries, moving towards the 8 overhead elevators that led to the launch tubes.

A large Scourge flotilla had been spotted Southwest, recalled Major Daniel MacMillan. The cause for this early morning mess. His pulse raced as he sprinted along the wide flight deck, helmet in hand. Bay 49… bay 49… His alcove came into view, the Archangel custom nestled comfortably it's perch. A unique bird, jokingly named Papa dragon. The product of 12 years of flying expertise, a sneaky chief engineer and a couple bottles of gin. It's navy grey paint was punctuated by a fire breathing shenlong along the barrel of his 40mm guns, and some two hundred jelly kill marks adorning the side of the fuselage.

The Major climbed up into the cockpit, donning his helmet and buckling himself in. He opened up his kneeboard and flipped to a new page, scribbling down the date and other specifics. Old school but effective. MacMillan cycled through various imaging screens on his helmet HUD. His helmet registering specific eye movements and transmitted commands. Time to get the bird started up. MacMillan worked his way through a dozen switches, injecting fuel, testing flaps, running an abbreviated series of preflight checks. He shut down diagnostic-startup and booted up flight mode. An isometric lidar projection of the nearby terrain appeared in his vision, quickly relegating itself to the upper left corner of his vision to make room for fuel, ammo, and radar displays. The cockpit flickered in and out of view as the external cameras kicked in, streaming visual data from around the plane directly to his helmet and allowing clear visual through the Interceptors hull.

MacMillan looked up and waved to the elevator control booth on the ceiling. A stout operator gave him the thumbs up and began to work the controls. MacMillan slid the canopy closed as a forklift like contraption descended from the ceiling, sliding underneath the wings of Papa Dragon and pulling it from it's alcove before raising it to the ceiling.

The radio buzzed and the voice of the new assistant section leader, Vince, came through.
"Can you believe this shit Mac? Fucking flight op at 2 in the morning."
"Just be glad we spotted em at all this time Vince, any more jellies sneak by us and we'll get one hell of an earful from FLEETCOM"
"Better an earful than another early morning op, at this rate I'm gonna start growing grey hair."
"You and me both kid"
The crane deposited Papa Dragon into the elevator 2 holding cradle, which retracted flush Into the ceiling as it loaded the interceptor into the long, sealed launch tube.
"Hey, I heard down the grapevine you ignore regulation, you really don't fly with countermeasures?"
“ I know they tell everybody to keep it on, but trust me. Countermeasures are useless against the Jellies. That D-class shield plate ain't gonna stop a plasma bolt anytime soon. All it does is waste power and computing space. You’ll just be saving energy.”
“I dunno Mac, sounds a bit reckless if you ask me”
“I had a certain chief technician pull everything but the ECM kit off my bird, off the books of course.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Nope, those systems are heavy, angel’s fast but without countermeasures its faster, besides, we’re Jelly specialists. We got nothing to worry about”
The radio crackled with a new voice.
“This is Torchlight actual, Razor 1 you are cleared for launch. Good Hunting and godspeed”.
As the radio fizzled out MacMillan inhaled, preparing for the massive G acceleration that was about to begin. Small white lights that lined the tube began to strobe, the skeletal interior of the barrel briefly illuminated every so often. Ceiling indicator flashed yellow, then green. One. Two. Three. MacMillan's G-suit activated as he was slammed back into his seat, the launch rail accelerated him to a blistering 700 kilometers an hour. The ridged interior of the tube quickly morphed into an indistinguishable blur, racing by Papa Dragon. The night sky blossomed around the Archangel as it left the tube.

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Re: Gunfighter

Post by Thunderboy » Mon Aug 05, 2019 1:51 pm

Nice story, great to read the modifications. And the 200 kills, sounds like big talk to me. Just like the pilots are known to do!
“We're like the Forums little pitbull. You'll beat it, mistreat it, and once in a while we'll escape to attack somebody.” ;)

Location: The Netherlands, Europe

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