|
>>
|
1831fc.jpg
Wild Mystery Swirl
1831fc
>Recording...
There have been increasing rumors amongst the fighter pilots that their ships are haunted. They don't seem too terribly worried about it, though. In fact, they rather like the idea. I asked one of the rookies what he thought, and he commented that he saw the damned thing. He let me have his testimony on this recording:
"Yeah, it was really scary going out for the first time, you know? I've been trained and run through the sims about a hundred times, but you still get the shakes. Even the takeoff was a hassle this time around. I thought I'd be dead by the time I cleared the dock. The minute I took off, the damn sky was alight with every kind of projectile you can think of and then some. I dove and weaved and nearly got my wings clipped half a dozen times in the span of a second before one of the vet pilots started to pull them off of me. One of them told me to get it together and try and loop around for a pass at one of the fighters. I slammed the damn thing into full tilt and booked while I tried to gather my senses, you know? I dunno why, but I suddenly looked left, and there through the lasers was a ship I'd never seen before. It looked like something straight out of an archeologist's text book - the thing was this tiny little craft of blue and silver, with a big red and black target on it's hull. I could actually see the pilot inside, wearing the most ridiculous get up. And then he turned to me, and the comm chatter cleared as the man started to talk to me. 'Alright Joe, we're going to do this nice and easy like. Just follow my lead and I'll see ya get through this.' So I followed him. I dunno why, but something in his voice just made me lose all the nerves that had been causing me to shake and want to puke. I followed his tiny little craft, which nimbly turned and flew right back into the fight. I saw ghostly cannons open up, peppering enemy fighters with uncanny accuracy as I flew on his tail, joining my firepower with his. I know I got two registered kills that day, and our little manuevering broke up half a dozen fighters and we picked them off easily. The minute I got into drydock I ran to my flight officer and told him what happened. He just smiled and clapped me on the shoulder before he said, 'Well son, sounds like you had a Blazing Angel looking over you for that fight. Make sure you leave a shot a whiskey by your bird before you turn in to thank 'im.'"
The pilot continues with how he came back the next morning to find the shotglass and the bottle of whiskey completely empty. Who knows? Perhaps there is a Blazing Angel who guides the younger pilots into the battle...
Another pilot has claimed that the Angel saved his life. While on a recon mission, this pilot was hit by a raiding squadron. He narrowly missed the first volley of fire, but the second damaged his wing, forcing him to weave towards the cover of the dust clouds. The young man figured he was done for, and began to pray for a quick and painless end. He knew that he'd not survive the second pass, and the small craft shuddered as he tried to pass into the cloud. It was there, in that small cloud, that a fireball erupted from within, and a small, silver, slender craft swiftly set upon the pursuers, wings blazing fire and brimstone into their formation. The pilot claimed he heard a whoop of joy on the comm channel, though it sounded a bit grainy. The distraction - and the subsequent loss of two in their raiding party, gave the pilot an oppurtunity to fly his damaged class back to the carrier.
Here is his account: "It was nothing out of the ordinary. There and back, lightest load I could carry save fuel and the wieght of the thing. I would rely on speed and speed alone. I had actually just come out of that dust cloud when the raiding party smacked right into me. I hadn't even been given a service pistol to fight them if they had taken my craft! Damn cheap bastards... Anyway, the bastards just opened up as soon as I turned. I felt the entire ship shudder as she took one on the wing. That was going to make getting away a hell of a lot harder, that was for sure. I figured I was dead at that point. Started saying my prayers out one side of my mouth while signalling my old fashioned S.o.S.. I'd started to turn and burn into the cloud when it just blew up! Well, part of it did. The thing just flowered and out comes this silver devil, just firing and spinning and wheeling towards the bandits. I heard my comm crackle to life, and there was this great cry of joy sounding clear before the thing started breaking up. I think he said "Whoo hoo hoo! We'll watch your back Joe! Go on, gitcher self back to the carrier!" I didn't need to told twice. I watched my sensors as - stunningly - the silver devil took down two of the bastards and scattered 'em.
Still other reports don't even come from the pilots. Several ground troops have reported a silver apparition strafing a column that had attacked them or showed the position of a sniper. This Arcturian Regular gave his interpretation:
"Hell of a time in the desert. Supply chain was shitty, the chance to bathe was non-existant. Hell, when they finally did show up, we were welcoming the fact that we might die. It was a hellhole of a world, and the enemy looked liked it was straight from one of the many hells back on earth. Big horns, jaws with razor sharp teeth - We opened up on 'em with everything we had set up, and we were still dragging other things into position. Our air support wouldn't be ready for twenty minutes (Damn crews didn't fuel the birds, not expecting an attack at least for the next five weeks.) Well, I grab a few of my buds and we take cover in a nest we'd dug out and grabbed two of the ammo crates in with us. One of my buddies' comm started acting funny - Think it was Daryls - and we thought it might have been the fact that we thought the fuckers were using EMP charges. I didn't hear a word out of the damn thing, but he just sort of looked up puzzled, looking to the new guy, Joe. Apperantly, Daryl says, Joe's got an angel above. Now the rest of us are laughing and firin' and laughin' and prayin'. Then Vince sticks his head out to look for a target - I swear I thought his head had popped when I heard him scream - But it wasn't so. Instead, he was whooping for joy, scrambling out of the nest and firing his rifle as he went. *Subject takes a sip of water before continuing* Seems Joe did have a guardian up there. Silver and blue streaked across the sky as these tiny little atmospheric craft strafed the hell out of the advancing line, giving time for the bigger guns to set up and our actual air support to get off the ground. I never saw anything like it, sir. The way they moved, the slow turns and the hum or what sounded like rotary blades... And the crack of that gunfire! I'd gotten to the top of a dune when I saw a few of the aliens hit with 'em - Tore 'em open and made paste of one of them who was the most unlucky s.o.b. I think I ever had the displeasure of watching die. And the odd thing? There were four of 'em up there. Least ways, I counted four. Now, whether they were a secret weapon or something spiritual, I can't tell you. What I can tell you is that they were the reason we now own that Sandy hell. Those things are the reason I'm alive, I think. And I'm honestly glad for it."
|