Rise of the Remorhaz Society

[SG-3]

Yay fighters.This is what I've been waiting for.What are you going to call the first carrier?

[Loser]

Originally posted by sachmo:
Wow, that's quite a feat!

It has taken days, and only goes to show two things.

1. You are a good writer.

2. My position is overstaffed.

[sachmo]

SG-3: I'll know soon. I was thinking of paying homage to Wing Commander, but I'm still not sure. She's due to be completed next month (I think) and so whatever I name her, I name the class, so it has to be good.

Loser: Sorry to hear about your boredom, but these days just having a job is an accomplishment in and of itself. I'm glad I can help you pass the hours.

More coming soon!

[SG-3]

How about The RSS Tiger Claw.

[sachmo]

Originally posted by SG-3:
How about The RSS Tiger Claw.

That's what I was thinking, but I'm still not sure. *SHRUG*

[SG-3]

Is it just me,or the Skydancer and the Shining Victory despretly trying to destory themselves.

[sachmo]

Originally posted by SG-3:
Is it just me,or the Skydancer and the Shining Victory despretly trying to destory themselves.

Nah, think of them as holding the point position. Someone has to lead the way, and they usually get the duty. Lucky for the fleet that the enemy likes to open fire on contact and not wait to engage!

[sachmo]

Dogscoff (and others) have inspired me to load up the old game again! I should have a new chapter up soon. Thanks for being patient, folks.

[CNCRaymond]

You should understand that your story is like crack to many of us, and without our daily fix, we all star climbing the walls and going crazy.

[ May 29, 2003, 13:28: Message edited by: CNCRaymond ]

[sachmo]

Fighter Patrol

Highrock was an ugly planet. It’s geology was made up of primarily one mineral; granite. There was no vegetation, nor was there any water. Only vast granite plains stretching as far as the eye could see. Also, there was dust. Highrock was a planet with an active core, which meant that the ugly granite continents were constantly shifting and grinding together. This seismic activity generated millions of tons of granite debris, and a good portion of the fine rock became dust. The dust swept through the methane atmosphere on the strong winds that blew across the surface. The dust penetrated everything. All of this made Highrock a rather dismal place to live for a Remorhaz citizen.
It was necessary for Remorhaz citizens to be there, however. Highrock was the first line of defense against the Ukra-Tal. The planet was slowly becoming a major naval base, and a prime target for Ukra-Tal offensives. There were colonists on the planet, about 24 million to be exact, but almost every industry on the surface of the ugly, cold planet existed to support the military and ensure the defense of the Society.
Ensign Ren Berton was a small cog in the large navy machine on Highrock, but today he felt like a king. The final FA-5 Warhammer anti-ship fighter in his element had been delivered, and now they were operational. Before the transporter had even rolled to a complete stop, his squadron commander had relayed the orders that had come directly from Rear Admiral Jager. They were to mount a continual patrol over the planet until further notice. That would mean that his men would have to rotate duty with pilots from other elements until the other pilots received their own craft, but Ren didn’t mind, and he knew his men wouldn’t either. They would finally be able to get out into space in the sleek new fighters. They had all been allowed to take a few test runs in the fighters as they were delivered, but flight time was severely limited until they were at full strength. It had given all of the men a stronger yearning for the freedom and excitement of piloting their fighters in space, protecting their comrades and fellow citizens from their enemies. They were very much looking forward to doing it for real.

Ren opened the door to the squadron briefing room and found all of his pilots waiting for him. Their eyes were as bright as Lenoltris Star as they watched him move to the front of the room. He decided to not keep them is suspense.
“The Last Warhammer is here. Since everyone else is already assigned to a ship, 006 will be mine.” He looked out at them and smiled.
“I’m going to take her up on the first patrol, which will also serve as her test run. Petty Officer Numier will accompany me on this auspicious mission.”
Numier perked up when he heard his name called. The other pilots clapped him on the back and cheered.
Ren continued the briefing.
“We will maintain a continuous patrol 10,000 miles behind the mine belt. When I say continuous, I mean twenty hours a day. Since there are only six of us, we will be sharing our ships with the other elements until they get their own craft. I know what a bunch of studs you guys are, but you are still human, after all.”
Everyone laughed, and a few flexed their muscles jokingly.
“Listen up, because this point is very important. If you encounter hostile forces, you are to radio back to base and await the rest of the squadron before taking any action. Under no circumstances are any of you to try to make yourselves heroes. Going up against a Gjovik alone will result in a very quick and painful death. Is that clear, guys?”
Everyone acknowledged his order. Ren felt the tug of action at his mind, also. If there were trouble, it would be hard to remember all of his training, but if he could recall the simulation results of unsupported fighters attacking an Ukra-Tal ship, that would remind him to call for help before running into battle. Attacking a cruiser alone resulted in death, plain and simple. Even attacking with the entire element would be a risky proposition.
He began again.
“Ok everyone, this is real now. No more simulations or check rides. We are a combat fighter squadron now. Remember your training and remember why we are here. Dismissed.”
The pilots let out a whoop as they surrounded Petty Officer Numier and followed him to the prep room. Ren gathered his data pad and followed them down the hall to get ready for his first real patrol.

“Highrock control, this is Victory One. Element ready for launch.”
Ren keyed his com unit and awaited the order to launch from the control tower. His well-trained eyes swept over the displays, checking every reading for any sign of trouble. He glanced out of his canopy toward Victory Two and observed Numier doing the same.
He smiled behind his mask.
“Victory One, your element is cleared for launch. Be advised that we are showing five Ukra-Tal craft on very long-range scanners. None are inbound. Good luck, Ensign.”
Ren took on Last sweep over the displays as he prepared for launch.
“Roger, Highrock control. Victory Element rolling.”
Ren advanced the throttle to full power and released the gravity harness. His ship floated gracefully into the air. Ren allowed himself a brief moment to enjoy the sensation as his ship left the ground. It always reminded him of his childhood, when he would swing as high as he could, leaving his stomach far behind. He moved the directional pedals slightly, lining the fighter’s nose up on the optimum course plotted by his computer to get his fighter into orbit most efficiently. His display showed him that Numier was performing the exact same maneuver.
Once they had gained sufficient altitude and had their ships on course, Ren keyed the com unit and uttered a simple command: “Victory element engage.”
He pushed the throttle to the stops, and the Warhammer responded. The compensator was a microsecond behind the engines, and Ren could feel the acceleration press him back into the seat. He kept his eyes scanning his readouts and screens, but he allowed himself a little “Whoo hoo!” as the young boy inside him hung on for the ride of his life, enjoying every minute of it.
In seconds, there were in space. He and Victory Two formed up and plotted the course to their patrol station. On the way, he took the Warhammer through a series of maneuvers designed to test the systems of the brand new ship. Victory 006 came through the trials without incident. Once they reached the patrol area, the reality of war set in. They watched as the Ukra-Tal ships plodded along, heading away from Highrock. They never made an aggressive move, although what their mission was, Ren could not even guess. He and Numier flew in large figure-eight patterns for four hours, watching the enemy plod across the system, until they were relieved by the next element.
As he brought his ship down and settled it down into it’s docking collar, he wondered how long it would be before his men began to complain about the patrols. As he watched Numier climb down from the cockpit of his Warhammer, one look at his face told Ren that it would not be long at all.

[ May 30, 2003, 15:22: Message edited by: sachmo ]