Ugly Part 9

9

‘Red Drag, this is Ugly. We are approaching coordinates. Please advise objective.’ Flight Command haul our arses off the beddings at this unearthly hour and told us to take a flight with no mission objective. And we are here now, sitting adrift in open space watching a nearby star system.

‘Ugly, your mission is to wait. A craft will appear and you will obliged assistance. Do as the other asked and question no orders. Over.’

I hate to be told to play stealth with someone I know not of but that is Flight Command. I acknowledged the order and maintain radio silence. Maybe I will get my sleep now, and let the scanners do their work.

Beep! Beep!

It was my cue to shake off the sleep and rise to the occasion. I checked my scanners and saw the oncoming crafts.

‘Uglies, we got two hostiles closing in with one friendly, I repeat one friendly. Break formation and we will do a crossfire on the friendly stern. Doubt the Lions’ will play but we can tell them the formidable Uglies was here first’.

The Lions’ caught our scent and veered off to their own base and our friendly craft came to a stop near us. She is a Lion but looks scarred at some places. I came close to tap her wings, and the comms burst open.

‘Hello, son. So my request went through.’ Commander Clarence Mitt, Combat Trainer turned Leader of ‘Gunfighters’ mercenaries. We last met before on near Trigan IV when we played escort to the frigate. He was my mentor before he went into retirement and joined the opposing side.

‘Commander. We have you on visual. Please advise your next orders.’

He told me to fly with him to the nearest base for briefing. We did, all five Scimitar and one Lion, flying in formation and maintaining radio silence. The last order was mine to avoid me speaking to the Commander.

He was one of the best pilots and turned trainer to ensure we can stand a chance of coming back alive on missions. He will put any pilot through the drills and more if need be. I was one to pull special classes as he felt I was good but not good enough. So he trained me on a personal basis. I flew almost the flying time required before he certified me fit for duty. He taught me tactics and deception; plus the feeling of taking on the enemy craft to pieces. He taught me to kill with no remorse biut feeling of achievement. It was one thing to learn to fly and work on tactics, there is the real experience of doing it. We spend lots of hours on the simulated combat virtual sets, and I came tops in the end of the sessions. Initially it irks the Commander, but soon he took it as his competency in training the pilot.

But he left on Cecilia’s funeral, citing personal reasons. But I knew he had a bad exchanged with the Admiral on the incident which he blames the Flight Command for screwed up decisions. He was left off without a court martial if he retired. 

He did soon and trained the ‘Gunfighters’; bunch of mercenaries sold to the highest bidder, and they have no friends in the battlefield. ‘Gunfighters’ account for some major kills in the fleet and we ain;t exactly happy to see any of them unless they are dead.

But we were made to land with the Lion on arrival at the base in Trigan IV. Upon landing, the Commander was escorted by armed Marines to an undisclosed destination. The Uglies was asked to stayed and wait for new orders. For our safety, we were escorted under the Marines to our bunk house and kept there for security reasons. But we could catch up on our lost sleep and rest.

‘Ian, you are one messed up bastard.’ I looked at her and was confused. Here she is in her flight suit and I just buried her that afternoon in the fragging ground, or what’s left of her.

‘Cecilia, you are dead..... It can’t be. I buried you today.’ I reached out to her but she seemed so far away. As if I am reaching for a floating image of her.

‘That is why I said you are one messed up bastard. I am dead so live with that fact. So is your Commander Clarence. He is dead in your life; he left you today, so like me, he is dead.’

‘No....’

I woke up to the tap on my shoulder. It was Recon, and she said we been called for briefing in the Briefing Hall. There are about forty seats there, but today there are only five of us, and still the hall is as warm as before. Some trainers says its to warm us up before flight, but I said its fragging warm for us dozed off during briefing. We are seated facing a podium with a large screen behind it. Today, the podium is taken up by the Rear Admiral and Commander Clarence.

‘Will someone put up the cold air? Its warm from where I am standing.’ I loved the Rear Admiral now; he likes cold like we all do.  And its fragging cold out there in space. And we don;t dozed out there, we do here in the warm hall.

‘Uglies, your mission is to assist Commander Clarence in rescuing his men and for them to get their Scimitars. Once there are in their Scimitars’, you are cleared of your mission. Your commander will take over command then and decide the next action. I leave it to you with Commander Clarence to brief you now. Clarence, the floor is yours and nice to see you again.’

They shook hands like old friends when one is killing the others pilot before this day. Funny how enemies become allies on the decision to be friendly or ‘come to assist’ request. The Commander was not brief, but thorough in his briefing. He cover all the required areas and concerns, and by the end, except for me, everyone was thinking they could complete the mission blindfolded. After all, its a rescue mission and what else that cannot  go right will go wrong. Its simple logic.

And it was wrong on the start.

We are combat pilots and here we are now doing clandestine roles on the surface. Like on Centaur IV with my previous team, but this is dry acrid land here with many deep canyons and high long range of rocks bearing hills. I could see Recon kissing her lucky charm before she alight from the cockpit. This time we left Hot Stuff, armed with a PK-450 modified sniper range alone to guard the Scimitars’ which we landed in a canyon covered by high cliffs on both sides and it smell bad there. But that was the hiding spot as ordered by the Commander. I been avoiding him since we left the base, and still do now; I am covering the flanks. We got the Commander holding point, with the ranks as behinds and I am the rear. We are five kilometres to the Airbase located in a dry basin between two high ranges. This was the Gunfighters’ previous operational base, and now they are in detention alongside with their Scimitars, and Lions’.

Gunfighters being mercenaries flies whatever they can get on or familair with; in this case both as they come from both combat teams. Its not a military loyatly understanding here; its who pays more in credits. According to the Commander, there should be twenty five Scimitars’ and sixteen Lions crafts with their pilots and twenty six ground crew. The guards could vary from two hundred to three hundred, and there are twenty four Lions’ with pilots which are from the opposing side. At any one time, there should be about eight crafts on patrol on routine flights of three hours each, so that makes the loyal Lions at sixteen Lions’ on the ground.

The airbase consists of three runways, of which one is kept for emergencies and running parallet to the Control Tower. Next to the Control Tower on the right are the Pilot’s building which is made up of two large ones and one smaller one. The later act as the Mess Hall for the base. Next to the these buildings are the Maintenance Hall, which is two large rectangular structures that runs parallel to the runways. According to the Commander, the manitenance crew is only twenty of them, but they have access to arms in their work area. The guards quarters are across the runway facing the Tower and the Pilot’s building, and there are three buildings of rectangular shape. The Brig is next to the guard’s quarter.

The problem were the Gunfighter’s crafts are on the first runway nearest to the Tower, all lined up for sequential takeoff by the numbers. The enemies Lions’ are on the third runway near to the Guard’s Buildings.

The next problem was the Gunfighters’ pilots are kept in two locations; the seniors in the Pilot’s building and the rest including maintenance crews are in the Brig. And the Brig is a solid concrete structure with series of little vents for the occupants. There is only one entrance into the Brig and its heavy metal encased door.

Plus there are Hornets; automatic aircrafts twin cannons gun placements in startegic location; three sets around the Tower, three sets at the Maintenance Hall. In between the first and second runways are two Missile Launchers; one on each end. There are four heavy gun bunkers with guards for any surface attacks; at the Tower, the Maintenance, and the Brig and Guards’.

In other words, its suicidal for six personnels to raid a place like this on foot but we are the suicides.

The plan is simple; we capture the two bunkers on the side of the Brig and Guards’ Buildings. Then we free the prisonsers in the Brig and the pilots will fly the Lions’. Meanwhile we will hold suppressing fire on the Guards’ Building while the Lions’ take out the Launchers and Hornets.  Then the remaining bunkers and the rescue of the remaining Gunfighter’.

Commander Clarence did not tell us this during briefing; he only spoke of this plan here.

And in comparison of plans, the earlier brief was too ‘brief’ to make sense. So we are committed and we need to act.

I immediately replaced the Commander as the relieving officer of his command.

My plan is quite similar, except we will take the Lions’ and fly them first. We used their crafts to reduce the odds on our end. I met with no objections from my team as they all has flown the Lions’ once or twice during training. They all nodded their heads at me. I can tell they are all messed up in their heads too. I am too now, like that day with Cecilia. She need not tell me in my dream, I know for a fact I am messed up inside. But among the mess, is my brilliance in carrying out suicidal missions.

I looked at the time and reckon the patrolling Lions’ are coming in about now.  We crept through the cut section of the fence, and crawled in close to the Guards’ Building. There is no patrolling guards at the building, so we waited. And we did not wait long before we see the Lions’ coming in. Its was time for our act, so we discarded our PK-450 and walked upright to the Lions’ as if we are the pilots. From a distance, everyone looked abut the same with their flight suits.

I climbed into the nearest Lion and checked the gauges. She is armed and ready for combat flight. Her switches and levers are placed differently but she is of the same standard design. I taxied my Lion out and passed by the team. They are in their assigned Lions’ and their engines are started. That when the comms burst open. Its Tower asking for confirmation, and they sounded angry. I slowly pedal the craft to the end of the runway, and when I looked at my rear view, Commander Clarence has taxied his craft to the other end as per plan. I set my gunsight onto the nearest bunker and released off some shots, splattering the concentre walls.

Then I pushed the missile button for a straight level shot. One of my four missile went whistling off towards the bunker and a ball of flame was soon to followed at where the bunker was. I then turned my craft to the runway and rev the engine up, and was soon taking off the base. As I looked back in my climb, I can see the other bunker taken care by the Commander and he is now dismantling the two Luanchers near his end. I turned my craft in a tight turn to take on the Tower. As I was turning, I saw Recon clearing the runway too, while Oldman was taking care of the Launchers. I slammed in two missiles from the Lion into the Tower. I can see the Commander coming in from behind me now, clearing the heavy gun bunker while Spitfire was blasting the Maintenance Hall. I told Recon to blast the Brig wall for the Gunfighters to escape, while I took a Lion trying to take off on the runway. She never made it, and was one mess on the start of the runway.

‘Ugly, Gunfighters on the loose. Time for us to call it done?’

I acknowledged Recon and we took off for our Scimitar leaving the Commander to provide fire cover. We ejected over our location and left the planes to crash into the nearby canyons. It wasn;t such a bad call, unless you land on the top of the canyon like me. While everyone was airborne, I was still struggling to climb down the high side of the canyon to go down. Then I saw the reason for the bad smell. The side of the canyon was lined with dead bodies of some pilots or captured men of ours; probably tortured and left here for the dead carcass feeding birds. I shot a few of those scavenger with my PK-325 but there are too many to take them all. I found myself down at my craft and climbed in. Once I was up, I got Hot Stuff on my comms.

‘Let me do it.’ Hot Stuff fired off her missiles at the cliff face to bring it down like an avalanche. When we were on the way back, Commander Clarence was on the comms.

‘Ian, thanks. My boys made it and we are airborne. We will move to our next own base for now. I saw the works done on the canyon. Its decent of you to bury them.’

‘Commander, you knew about the place. Did you place them there? The one place your previous friends will never bother to check.’ But I got no reply, only static. I have closure for five pilots, as their tags are with me. Their families will know they did not die in dark space, but on a planet. I closed my eyes and sid to myself; ‘rest in peace, Cecilia’.

I was greeted by the Rear Admiral, and when he saw me come off Cecilia, he asked for Commander Clarence. I told him the Commander left with his men and we could not stopped him as he had more than thirty crafts backing him. But we found these which you want to do the necessary memorials.

It pukes me to hear the Rear Admiral gave his speech that day during the Memorial Service for the five downed pilots. He did not know them or how they died, but he gave a helluva fine speech on their sacrifice. And nothing was mentioned of the Uglies and the Gunfighters.

I guess it’s better this way, as we could still do our stuff without any messed up officer on our back.