Top Gun (Part 2 of 2)

Posted on 05 Apr 2019 @ 4:19pm by Chief Warrant Officer 3 Lamar Darius & Lieutenant JG Tris Shizn & Chief Warrant Officer 3 Azra Ghoc & Chief Warrant Officer 2 Oliver Sylver

3,739 words; about a 19 minute read

Mission: Episode 17 - Crystal of Life
Location: USS Galileo-A - Holodeck 2
Timeline: MD -58, 1952 hrs

[ON]

The launch of the twin-engine F-14 Tomcats went without a hitch. It was a classic launch with a turn for the birds, baring 270 degrees. They were quickly out over the ocean and level flight at ‘angels-10’. Visibility was 10 miles and sporadic cumulus clouds at 30,000 feet.

In the front seat of his plane, Lamar checked his gauges and electronic displays to confirm their position. The altimeter read ten-thousand feet AGL and he could see some large puffy clouds in the near distance. He looked over his right shoulder out through the glass cockpit to do a visual check on his wingman who was in close formation. Though his oxygen mask hid his facial expressions, Darius was smiling ear-to-ear while the Tomcats streaked through the sky together. "You all having fun yet?" he asked over the comm.

Shizn was feeling comfortable and was taking a visual inspection outside the canopy when he heard the Chief. He piped in, “Yes Sir Chief. This is definitely a change of pace.”

"These old birds were really ancient, no inertial dampers or anything," added Lamar. Through his seat, he could feel every light turbulence bump within the atmosphere as his plane's wings and fuselage were bounced around by the airflow. He trimmed the nose with a couple clicks on his joystick's hat switch, then engaged the primitive autopilot to hold their current course and altitude. "I programmed this for some BFM, basic fighter maneuvers. Wait...there they are, ten low," he called out, now seeing a pair of small black dots in the far distance at around 20nm.

Tris leaned his head quickly to the left against the canopy, looking down to visually identify the craft. Straightening and looking at the radar he announced, “Confirmed, two targets, baring 300 degrees, 3 klicks.” He made a slight adjustment on the device and announced, “They are tracking directly across our path.”

The comm channel in both Tomcats suddenly crackled and a rough, severe voice spoke to the four Starfleet pilots.

"Alright ladies, listen up. This is Jester, ID Bulldog. I'm your instructor for these maneuvers so you will listen to my orders and follow safe protocol," he practically demanded. "Hard deck for this hop is five-thousand feet. This simulation will familiarize you with uneven engagements against smaller, more maneuverable craft." There was a slight pause in the transmission. "And remember - there's no points for second place. Good luck and see you on the deck."

Squinting through some of the sunlight reflecting through the canopy, Lamar watched as both of the small dots changed course and aspect to suddenly appear static and non-moving. To the untrained eye, it could have meant the aircraft were flying away, but Darius knew they were headed straight for them to engage.

"Heads up!" he called out, now strapping his oxygen mask's chin strap to his helmet. "Two-ship formation inbound, eight-thousand low, bearing 300," he said through the helmet mic. Lamar pushed the stick left and rolled the wings to a sixty-degree bank to intercept. "Two-one, stay on my wing and cover us. I'll buy the beer after."

Tris was very pleased that the cockpit harness secured him to the rear seat. The inertia forces were definitely felt as the plane laid over and engaged the incoming craft. The Andorian checked the radar after the maneuver to find the engaging craft . . . realizing that in this situation he needed to consider them ‘the enemy’ and at least call them the ‘opponent’. He activated the mic, “We are now descending and in direct line to engage. 30 seconds out.”

Tomcat One rolled out from its turn to go wings level while headed straight for a head-on intercept. "Tomcats, bracket right, let's take them down the middle," Lamar called to his fellow aviators. He then moved the stick slightly to the right to position his airplane appropriately. "Fifteen seconds..."

A feeling of powerlessness came over Tris. His heart rate increased and he felt warmer than usual. He could only attribute this to the intense situation taking place around him, where he was not at the controls. He breathed and had to place complete faith in the abilities of ‘his’ pilot.

Sylver grabbed the stick, his eyes on the digital HSI before he moved it to get his position right. His eyes were focused, noise around him muffled. The displays stared back at him, the analogue compass almost laughing at him, as if to say 'you don't understand me? How stupid is that?'

Azra fumbled with the controls around her. She was a fair pilot with modern technology, but the older, more manual controls defied her instincts. With a frustrated growl, she muted her line and said, "Computer, replace cockpit controls and readouts with modern versions."

It took only a fraction of a second, but in that time the distance between the craft closed unbelievably quickly. With a touch-screen in front of her, and her better familiarity with the controls, Azra took a deep breath. This would be better, she hoped. She reactivated her comm line.

"We're following. Estimating 30 seconds to engagement. Oliver, are you ready for this?"

"As ready as I can be," Sylver said grimly, feeling sweat at the back of his neck. A familiar, almost sick feeling as adrenaline pushed in, overriding doubts, fears and everything else. Training kicked in at this point, but the controls were unfamiliar and the way she handled was so sensitive. It made him miss his Federation Attack Fighter. "Let's do this."

The two silver Tomcats merged head-to-head with their practice opponents at high speed. The two larger swept-wing fighters allowed the smaller sand-painted A-4 Skyhawks to streak between them, and Lamar twisted in his seat as the enemies whistled by them off the port wing and into his rear blind spot. "Ahh," he called out, trying to crane his head to re-acquire visual. Instinctively, he banked the wings hard to the left and pulled up on the stick to initiate a power turn. "I can't see 'em, Tris where are they?" he asked with urgency.

The Andorian had followed the craft very closely as they passed. The active radar was doing well for them, at least for the moment. After hey had banked, Tris replied, “They’ve pulled up and did a hard right. They are a thousand feet above us, about to cross our path.”

Lamar looked up into the sun and flipped down the shade visor on his helmet to filter his vision. Just as his RIO had called out, he caught sight of the bandit above. The chief pushed the dual throttles forward to engage stage-one afterburner. "Got him, tally bandit," he reported over the comm. He adjusted their climb and pitch rate to once again intersect the enemy as they merged for a second time. Twisting and turning, the two aircraft jockeyed for both altitude and airspeed advantage.

All this maneuvering brought a smile to Tris’ face. In an actual situation he probably could tell how far the other vessels were away, by use of his antennae, but this was just a simulation and the helmet and the canopy over them did hinder some as well. But missing that didn’t take any of the fun of the pursuit away.

The bandit they were pursing flashed across the Tomcat's nose from right-to-left then left-to-right as it tried to evade Lamar and Tris. The chief in the front seat rolled the fighter's wings and pulled Gs to stay behind the simulated enemy, but it was much harder than it looked. Without the atmospheric thrusters found on modern-day Starfleet vessels, the airplane could only maneuver within the constraints of its limited flight envelope.

The Andorian found that the piloting skills of the Chief to be quite good. He seemed to be doing quite well under the circumstances. Of course Tris was quite distracted when his legs were squeezed by the pressure suit during the high G turns. Quite an irritant indeed, Tris thought as he tried to focus on the radar image.

"We're engaged offensive!" said Darius. He was doing his best to stay on the tail of the holographic enemy.

Shizn realized that the situation became quite optimal and stated excitedly, “The craft is in range, YES!” He interrupted with an excited exclamation. “We have missile lock. . . For the moment.”

Through the small heads-up-display in his cockpit, Lamar watched the symbology change to attack format. The bandit was now designated with radar lock and a small green box overlayed on top of the bandit to track its movement. The chief maneuvered for a clean shot solution while focusing on the green crosshairs tracking to the box. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, their craft's radar warning receiver began to blare an urgent alert indicating they'd been locked on.

"Shit, Tris, check our six!" Darius said. Unseen to him from the forward cockpit, the second bandit had maneuvered behind them to line up its own kill shot.

“What?!?” Tris exclaimed as he refocused the radar more toward the rear. With all the excitement and focus on their ‘prey’, the Andorian had not noticed the approach from their aft. “Bogey 2 has missile lock. Activating chaff. Bug out! Break right!” Tris was not intending to be bossy, but advising Darius of their best course of action.

Lamar's heart rate instantly increased and mild panic set in before he received a natural boost of adrenaline from his body to counteract. He didn't think twice about the lieutenant's call-out and quickly pulled his flight stick hard to the right. The Tomcat rolled to starboard then the chief pulled back on the controls to put them into a tight high-G breakaway turn. The gravitational forces from the maneuver pinned him to the back of his seat, and he loudly sucked breaths of air through his oxygen mask to keep himself from blacking out. "...Breaking right...Tomcat One is defensive..." he managed to call out between heavy breaths.

Tris thought the last move was difficult. This high-G turn made him see stars and he had to remind himself to breath and not hold his breath. The next thought in his mind was, Where is Tomcat 2? Where is Tomcat 2?

Sylver moved the plane, the G-s pulling at him. "Tomcat One, this is Tomcat Two...we got your six," he said before he rolled the plane, getting into a position to engage and protect Tomcat One.

Azra stared around her, keeping her eyes open for planes that her pilot might miss. It was exhausting. She adjusted a few settings. She really missed the sensor suites aboard modern craft.

Sylver frowned as he rolled again and then engaged, his eyes on what was happening. "Tomcat two engaging," he called out, aloud, more to himself. Because what other options were there. "Make sure no one gets a lock on us."

The lead F-14, under attack from behind, broke off from its target and started to perform a series of Split-S maneuvers designed to deny a missile or gun solution from a trailing adversary. Lamar started his plane into a tight rolling spiral while looking from his instruments to over his shoulder outside the cockpit to get an eye on the threat. "Tris, I can't shake 'em!" he called out, then saw his wingman out of the corner of his eye moving in to assist. "Tomcat Two, if you have a shot, take it!"

Oliver's heart felt like it slowed down for a moment. The voice in his ears, the way the fighter moved...it made something inside him stop. His eyes wandered to the HUD for a moment before back at what he is doing. "Target lock on bandit," he said, aloud, before he opened fire. He trusted Azra to keep them safe and make sure that there were no surprises.

The holographic air-to-air missile on Tomcat-Two's weapon rack came off the rail and streaked toward the enemy aircraft behind a thin trail of white smoke. The weapon seeker locked on to the bandit and tracked the smaller A-4 through an evasive maneuver before impacting its tailpipe and detonating in a fiery explosion. The Skyhawk practically disintegrated and its wings blew off the main fuselage while flaming pieces of debris now fell from the sky to the ground.

Tris watched the radar as the indicators before him displayed the fighters. When he saw the missile launch, he internally and excitedly thought, Yes!.

Azra was watching when the rocket-powered projectile hit its target. There was a brief moment of surreal slow-motion then a fiery explosion ripped one of the enemy's wings to shreds. Smoke erupted as the plane streaked in a spinning dive toward the water below. In bare seconds, all that was left of the enemy plane was some debris floating on the surface of the ocean below. She punched the call button, "One fighter is down." She knew fighter pilots had slang or other phrases they used, but no specifics.

Sylver smiled at the words, taking a deeper breath before he re-orientated himself. "Tomcat one, this is Tomcat two. Bogey One still at large, let's go hunting."

Tris paused for a second of reflection, wondering if they all should be so excited for destroying a life. Yes, this was a game, and that craft was just a digital creation, but still he wondered why he and the others should be excited. He sighed, knowing he would need to work through these thoughts.

Shizn knowing he needed to put his head back into ‘the game’, he looked at the radar and reported, “My radar is only showing our two craft.” Then excitedly said, “Wait!” There was something of a small blip, not at all like before, “I’m picking up a target, 12 o’clock high, 4 miles out.” He thought that it might be a ghost or possibly the fighter heading directly at them, “Break right, to get a better cross section.”

Oliver chuckled softly to himself, taking a deeper breath. "Tomcat One, this is Tomcat Two. Breaking left and ascending. Let's trap this one." He moved quickly, the g-forces pulling at him. But this was something exciting, something new. It reminded him of wolves hunting in pack, of birds in the skies...of dusty history books.

In the front seat of the lead F-14, Lamar heard the callouts and checked his radar display which his RIO controlled. He didn't see anything on the scope but trusted Tris, and peeled off to starboard as instructed. "I don't have visual yet," he reported.

“I don’t understand,” Tris announced, “He was there a couple seconds ago. I wonder how he is masking his radar signature.” The Andorian reviewed the scope again, through the couple different systems they had on board. “He should be at our 9 o’clock, unless he dropped to the hard deck.”

Lamar had to constantly fight the strange sensation of operating such a primitive craft; all the Federation technology he'd been born and raised with, and taken for granted, really revealed the challenges of early-era aerospace. There were no lateral sensor arrays integrated into the hull capable of detecting everything in range, and now he had to rely on simple radar and the Mark I eyeball.

"I'll roll us over to check," Darius said to Tris. He pushed the stick left and performed a level 180-degree roll until they were inverted with the top of their cockpit's glass canopy facing the ground. For the chief, the disorientation was intense, but he quickly recovered to keep the aircraft level.

Tris found the inverted maneuver interesting. He didn’t feel disoriented at all. Although his antennae seemed quite active moving about. He would have to investigate this kind or orientation later in private.

With the new orientation, Shizn reviewed the radar screen. “Yes. There it is!” He exclaimed confirming the data, and doing some calculations in his head, “Target two is at bearing 090 down 40 degrees from level flight.” He then added to clarify, “Well, it will be when we flip back over.”

Azra caught sight of the other plane as it rolled upside down. In normal shuttle or fighter operations artificial gravity and inertial dampeners would have made that an inconsequential maneuver. In this simulation, gravity would be pulling all of the blood into their heads. She felt dizzy just thinking about it. When Tris called out the location of the fighter Azra craned her neck to find it. It was still out of her line of vision. Her stupid helmet prevented her from turning her head as much as she needed to.

Zero-nine-zero down forty meant the bandit was now above Lamar's head. He looked up and scanned the terrain below them for what seemed like an eternity, but quickly focused in on a small delta-shaped object moving quickly toward them. "Tally bandit," he called out, then pulled back on the stick to put them into a negative-G intercept. Darius squinted and tried to make out the fighter's orientation in relation to their own, then suddenly realized it was streaking straight for them.

"...Oh shit we're going head-to-head..." Lamar said to his RIO. Their rate of closure was well above a thousand knots. "Switching to guns." With a push of his thumb on the control stick's weapon selector, he armed the close-range 20mm Gatling cannon embedded into the Tomcat's nose. The green symbology on his HUD changed to now display a small pipper reticule which he was to use to manually align the shot.

Tris was pleased that he had located their target, but knowing that it was headed directly toward them caused himself some nervousness. He angled his head to one side and then to the other, trying to see around the equipment and the pilot’s head in front of him. The Andorian couldn’t see the target, but looking down again at the radar he confirmed that it was coming up fast, and estimated, “20 seconds to reach target”.

Twenty seconds seemed like an eternity, but a lot began to happen in a very short time. Darius pulled the nose around to face their incoming enemy then rolled wings-level to restore the aircraft's proper flight envelope.

"One mile and closing!" Lamar called out, the adrenaline spike obvious in his voice. His sharp eyes saw a brief flare followed by a puff of smoke from the enemy, and his brain quickly realized they were being fired at. Using a combination of rudder and stick inputs, he put the Tomcat into a slow spiral roll to evade and keep his sights on the target. Bright yellow tracer fire from the Skyhawk whizzed all around the F-14. "Hold on, 700 feet!"

Lamar pulled back on the throttle to let the engines go idle and performed a tight pull into his attack lane. Both he and Tris sucked in several Gs until they had the approaching enemy now over the piper. The two planes were now less than 500 feet from each other when the SHOOT indicator lit up on the top of the cockpit's canopy. The chief squeezed the two-stage trigger and suddenly the entire aircraft began to violently vibrate as the gun cannon fired primitive kinetic bullets. A wash of bright red sparks from the gun barrels spewed across the canopy and momentarily showered Lamar's vision until he disengaged the trigger.

The bullets nearly looked like a continuous, if arcing, line across the sky where the tracer rounds' phosphorus ignited in the oxygen. The line stitched past and then through the enemy aircraft. Dozens of holes punched through the plane's wing, up it's fuselage and into the canopy. A small fire burst from where a fuel tank had been punctured, but the telling moment was when the plane took a sudden nose-dive toward the ground, presumably when the pilot had been struck by at least one large, fast-moving projectile. Azra shuddered at the thought of having a hole torn through her by a flaming-hot piece of iron. "Second plane down," she confirmed over the radio.

"Splash two!" added Lamar with excitement after Ghoc's acknowledgement. No one could see his face, because of the oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth, but a huge grin had spread ear to ear. He was high on adrenaline and the raw sensation of unfiltered, atmospheric aerial combat. "Yea, that's the shit right there!" he added, watching the burning bandit plummet toward the holographic earth and explode on impact.

Darius pulled Tomcat One out of the maneuver, rolled wings-level, then pushed the throttles back up to cruise setting. Suddenly a familiar no-nonsense voice crackled through the comm in their helmets.

"So, you ladies think you're hot stuff, huh?" said the holographic ghost of Jester, the adversary instructor they'd just shot down. "Get your butts back to base immediately and report for debriefing." It was about the best compliment the Starfleet team could get for their performance.

“Wow,” Tris said over the comm. “Chief, that was some extremely amazing flying and shooting.”

It was probably Lamar's best performance to date, but he'd also been practicing in this same simulation for three months during his allotted holodeck time. "Copy that, L-T, you're pretty good too. A lot better than me on my first run," he complimented, then spoke to the other flight team. "Same for you Tomcat Two, ya'll even got a kill without getting shot at."

"Tomcat One, This is Tomcat Two. Copy that, we prefer to avoid getting scratched..." Sylver smiled to himself before he took a breath.

“This is Tomcat One, returning to base."

The two F-14s began a synchronous bank to the left at 30 degrees to disengage from the target area and head back to the naval air base at Mirimar. Exhaust plumes from their dual engines puffed out black rings of smoke when the plane leveled out and the throttles were set to cruise. As they flew over the California terrain, the simulation reached its final phase and terminated.

"Simulation complete," said the computer when they passed the final checkpoint. The desert sky quickly shimmered out of existence and the four Starfleeters found themselves back on their feet in the black and yellow-striped holodeck.

[OFF]

--

CWO3 Lamar Darius
Conn Officer
USS Galileo-A
[PNPC Saalm]

LTJg Tris Shizn
Conn Officer
USS Galileo-A

CWO2 Oliver Sylver
Conn Officer
USS Galileo-A
[PNPC Vansen]

CWO3 Azra Ghoc
Boatswain
USS Galileo-A

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