You’re It

Posted on Sat Jan 13th, 2024 @ 8:37am by Lieutenant Kurt "Berlin" Vogel & Captain Gary Taylor

Mission: MISSION 0 - History Speaks
2708 words - 5.4 OF Standard Post Measure

Kurt "Berlin" Vogel was in his Valkyrie fighter, flying level at about 3000 feet above a field of rolling plains. His sensors were not being trustworthy due to kalmecite deposits in those hills; he’d have to rely on his eyes to detect any threats.

Several streams of phaser fire went past his port wing. The German pilot reflexively pulled his stick hard to starboard, activating thrusters to turn his craft on an oblique, hoping to be a harder target. The streams of fire followed him down as Kurt twisted the craft, its hull squeaking and popping as air pressure and wind shear shifted quickly due his jockeying.

Kurt barrel rolled, while reducing thrust to near nothing. His opponent raced past him at over Mach 2. Kurt reengaged his engines in pursuit. He had the foe dead to rights.

Then the enemy reduced HIS thrust, turning his nose up suddenly to further reduce drag. The foe also spun his rudder to further bleed speed, spinning to the right on its vertical axis as Kurt flew past him; an expert Cobra Bell maneuver.

“Shit.” Kurt said as he glanced back to see the enemy in his tail once again. He tried juking hard and turned his nose down to gain speed. Phaser fire to his right made Kurt jerk hard left, but that put him into fire again as phasers impacted his vehicle. Alarms rang and sparks flew.

Kurt turned the comma on. “What the bloody hell was that Reap? They certainly don’t teach THAT stuff at Advanced Fighter Maneuvers.”

A chuckle followed by the cool, unruffled voice of Gary Taylor aka Grim Reaper came back through the com. "Advanced Fighter Maneuvers? Please. This is why you are out here with me Berlin. To learn and not become a stencil on some enemy pilot's fighter. The book is great in the classroom and to learn from. However, out here you throw the book away and make a new book."

Vogel grumbled to himself, for chastised that Reaper got the jump on him then anything.

"Yessir." The German replied. "My turn to go after you Reap. Computer: reset training. Blue Aggressor." The computer chirped obediently in acknowledgement. Everything was dark, before Kurt was once more in his fighter. He checked his altimeter: 4000 meters above sea level. Below was a valley that winded to the west, a river lazily streaming through its twists.

"Where are you, hotshot?" Kurt muttered, waiting for a sign of Captain Taylor's craft. He craned his neck skyward, to see the sun above him signaling it was about 1000 hours. A scattering of clouds above and to his left drifted in the azure sky.

Berlin saw no sign of his rival below. He increased altitude to 5000 meters. Still nothing.

"The clouds?" Kurt asked to no one. He maneuvered his craft towards the nearest one, flashing his LIDAR to see if it "pinged" off anything metal.

Gary was a above and behind Kurt. He was using the sun to blind himself visually from Kurt's vision. In addition, he had powered down all his systems so there was little output but could be changed instantly with the toggle of a switch. He smiled to himself as he watched Kurt's Valkyrie fighter. move below him. He could just imagine Kurt searching and wondering where he was. "Probably pinging the clouds looking for me. News flash my friend. I'm not there. * Kurt was an exceptional pilot, a good leader. He had good instincts. He just needed some more seasoning. Which Gary was happy to provide.

Berlin was getting frustrated. He had searched three clouds now, to no avail. He smacked his palm against his console, hard enough that his hand stung.

“Scheisse!” He growled. He just needed to think. Where would he go if it was him?

Above.

“Above is always safer than below.” The words of Pilot Instructor Glan Sanno echoed in Vogel’s mind. There was so much cloud cover up there that it would take forever to find Taylor, assuming he even held still.

He needed a faster way.

“Computer: list all elements in the hull of a Valkyrie fighter not naturally occurring.”

The computer gave him a list. Vogel looked it over, but nothing registered in his brain.

“Computer: are any of these elements reactive to any type of radiant energy?”

“Affirmative. The hull components will react to Radon, thorium Radiation, Faustian thermal energy, Gladstone…”

“Stop. Which of the energy types would cause the hull to glow?”

“Thorium Radiation will cause the hull to increase in luminosity by 86 percent for 12 seconds.” The computer replied.

“Can you configure the sensors to emit that kind of radiation?”

“Affirmative.”

“Execute.”

The craft sent forth a bluish front of radiation in all directions. The sphere penetrated the clouds around Kurt, passing through all of them.

Except one.

From above and behind Kurt, he saw a faint bluish glow from a cloud.

“Got you.” Kurt declared. He turned up his thrusters and raced in that direction.

Inside his fighter Gary watched Kurt search for him without success until... Gary saw Kurt's Valkyrie from below swing around towards him. "Uh oh." He muttered as he powered up his engines, brought weapons back online. He knew Kurt would figure he'd turn and run but he had other plans. "Computer configure our phaser fire to hit the nose of the oncoming fighter. Will it be enough to blind the pilot temporarily? "Affirmative. Enemy pilot will be blinded for six seconds." "Perfect." Gary answered as he raced to meet Kurt. Triggering his phasers as he did. His phasers struck the nose of the Valkyrie creating a mini flare as at the last second, he dove under Kurt and raced for the mountains and its peaks and abundance of hiding places.

Vogel’s eyes stung with white fire. The German cursed as he shut his eyes tight.

“Computer! Fix sensors on the other craft. Follow it at a distance of 100 meters and match speed!”

It wouldn’t be perfect, but maybe it would allow Kurt to be fairly close whenever his sight returned.

Inside his own fighter, Gary watched as the phasers struck Kurt's fighter creating an intense mini flare. But no permanent damage. He used it to dip under Kurt's fighter and dash for the mountain range. Where there were more hiding places to use. Looking through his rear camera he saw Kurt's fighter after a moment of hesitation get on his trail and begin to follow him at a distance of 100 meters. "Oh, you want to play follow the leader, do you? Well, you're on." As he increased his speed and made for the narrow opening in the mountains.

Kurt’s vision began to return, first as big, blurry sports, then as vague shapes.

“Warning: collision alert.” The computer stated.

Kurt could still not see clearly. But the last of the fog cleared from his vision. And what it saw was a narrow opening in the mountain wall, just big enough for his fighter to fit. That is, for if he turned it on its wing.

“Scheisse!” Vogel hollered as he desperately turned his craft upon its aileron. Its left wingtip turned skyward, until it was standing vertically wing to wing. He managed to turn in time, but still heard a scrap of metal as he went through.

Vogel was fuming at nearly crashing, sim or no sim.

“What else you got Reap?” The German called over comms.

Having lost Kurt by the combination by temporarily blinding him and flying through am extremely tight spot. Gary refused to be baited. From his vantage point, he could hear Kurt's frustration in his voice. *Need to keep cool Kurt. Otherwise, you're going to get splashed. * He thought humorlessly.

Berlin could feel the blood in his ears. He was getting frustrated. He decided that he would have seen Reaper if he went higher, so he went to higher altitude.

Gary had again powered down his systems as Kurt searched for him without success. He would a little longer before pouncing on the unsuspecting Berlin.

Kurt chewed on his lip. “Where are you? Computer: level II scan. Locate Valkyrie fighter.”

The computer chirped a melancholy tune. “Unable to locate. Local Kalmecite levels above sensor detection threshold.”

“Fine. We do it the hard way.”

Vogel thumbed away the cover for the trigger for photon torpedoes. He turned his craft’s nose, looking for possible hiding spots.

“Maybe there?” Kurt thought aloud as he eyed an overhanging arch of rock. He pressed the button, and a red orb shot forth, momentarily rocking his craft. The orb flung straight and true, until it impacted against the rock face. Earth and soil spewed outward in a fountain as a mild shockwave was sent out, making the air shimmer briefly.

From his hiding place. Gary watched as Kurt fired a photon torpedo where he though Gary was hiding. "Not there Kurt." Gary whispered to himself as he was already working on his exit options. When Kurt got around to firing where he was hiding. He would spring from his hiding spot, peppering Kurt's fighter with a phaser barrage or he just might let the fighter fall with the debris and when far enough away, power up and spring an attack. He smiled. Decisions, decisions.

Kurt fired another torpedo. Another fountain of earth and rock was spewed. Still no movement. Kurt clucked his tongue against his teeth in annoyance.

“Hmm.” The German said. He checked his inventory. Seven more torpedoes. He selected and locked on to seven likely hiding spots. Kurt pressed the firing solution and all seven torpedoes shot out to their targets. One after another, the torpedoes detonated. Rick and soil cascaded outward and rolled down inclines and hills.

Gary watched as Kurt fired another torpedo into the mountain and the surrounding cloud of dust and debris that resulted from the explosion. He now knew what he would do. He barely had time to bring his systems to standby when a torpedo struck close to the ledge, he had tucked his fighter into. As the ledge gave way, the fighter with Gary inside fell along with several hundred pounds of dirt and rock. As he fell in a free fall, Gary checked his systems. All were in the green and he still had his full complement of torpedoes. When he had fallen far enough, he powered his systems up, blasted out of the debris field and swung high to give Kurt a surprise.

“Damn!” Berlin shouted in surprise. He tried to wheel his fighter to match Gary’s maneuvers. He fired a burst of phasers, which missed by a few meters.

Gary turned his fighter into an impossibly tight turn, the g forces pinning him to the seat. When he straighten out of the turn, he was behind and above Kurt's fighter. He fired his phasers to bracket Kurt's fighter.

“Let’s see if I’ve read your book…” Kurt muttered. He engaged all flaps, forcing the fighter to come to almost to a dead stop. Vogel rotated his nose to point skyward, hoping to fire into Gary’s belly as he passed.

The German, however, misjudged the distance between the fighters. His forward thrust, small as it may have been, was enough that the nose of Kurt’s fighter hit Gary’s ventral hull. The sound if metal scrapping on metal was ear splitting as Vogel’s craft lost its nose piece and began to spin clockwise on its horizontal axis.

“Scheissescheissescheisse!” Kurt hollered as he fought to regain control. He slowed his spin enough that he could see Taylor’s fighter plummeting towards land; Kurt figured he must have punctured the axial stabilizer or the control rods.

There was nothing he could do; he had to eject.

As Kurt hit the button to eject his seat, the cockpit shimmered and faded into the usual black and yellow grid pattern of the holodeck. He had “died”. The Teutonic pilot was so upset and embarrassed that he chucked his helmet against the bulkhead, which impacted with a dull thud.

Inside his fighter Gary saw whar Kurt was attempting and reacted accordingly. Unforunately the distance between the two fighters was small and try as he might, he couldn't avoid the nose of Kurt's fighter scrapping the undrside of his his fighter. Ear splitting noise of metal being torn asunder filled his ears and then it was replaced by the shrill sound of alarms going off. Looking at his instrument panel he could see the red flashing diagram showing the damage to the underside of the fighter. It's belly was split wide open. The control rods either severed or badly damaged to be operatable.

"Damn!" He swore as he fought control of thre fighter. He couldn't stop the fighter from losing altitude, but he could slow the fall. His wing flaps still worked so he used those to level out his fall. He then lowered his speed to just above stall. Satisfied he had done what he coud. He hitnthe eject button and the cockpot was replaced by the black and yrllow grid of the holodeck.

Vogel was kicking his helmet across the floor, swearing in every language he knew. The words that came out were of such heinous filth that the German was sure if his parents heard him, old as he was, they’d both take turns boxing his ears.

Gary stood silently to one side and behind Kurt as he watched a very impressive and not mention colorful tirade of swear words some he had never heard before even as Kurt was kicking his helmet across the floor. He shook his head to one side as Kurt continued his rant. After a few more seconds he spoke up, "Very impressive use of different languages Kurt. You feel better now? Inside of getting mad and losing your edge like you did. You should be asking yourself what I can do avoid the same result again?"

Kurt wanted to turn his anger onto Taylor, but long service in the Reserves made discipline a harsh mistress. He took a breath before continuing.

“I ask your pardon sir, both for the language and the bad flying. I was getting frustrated with the aim. You are a good pilot, and I was getting angry that I couldn’t keep up or anticipate your tactics. If this was real, I’d likely be dead or injured.”

"No pardon necessary Kurt." Gary answered, "Other than for letting your anger get the best of you. That's why we practice Kurt." Gary replied. "You are a good pilot Kurt with good instincts. However, you need to work on keeping your mental edge. You control the situation; it doesn't control you. You get that down and you'll be a tough act to beat in the air."

Vogel frowned. “It’s not me I worry about, sir; it’s my men. I owe them my best. Anything else and it could cost lives.”

"That's the sign of a good leader Kurt and you are a good leader. It shows that you care. However, all you can do is train them to make them the best they can be. You can't think for them. Thy have to do that on their own." Gary replied.

Kurt breathed deeply as he considered his superior’s words. “Yessir.” He said finally. He picked up his helmet, a tad miffed that there was not even a scratch on its alloy shell. The German thumbed towards his right. “Post-flight raktajino? I’ll buy.”

Gary clasped Kurt on the shoulder. "Ease up Kurt. This was only a simulation. Use your anger constructively. To make yourself a better pilot, a better leader. As for the post flight drink raktajino, sure thing but I'll buy."

“Is that an order, sir?” Vogel said, a twinkle returning to his eye.

Gary shook his head from side to side. "An order? Absolutely not Kurt. More like a friendly suggestion."

Berlin came to rigid attention, his heels joining with a thud in mock servility. "Jawoehl Herr Kapitaen!"

Gary stared at him for several seconds in silence before replying. "Damn straight and don't you forget it." As his face split into a grin. "Now, come on let's go."

END

 

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