The Red Leopards of Zaxon B (Galaxies Collide Book 2) (23 page)

The two sleek silver craft swept round the left side of an asteroid field, flashes from the upper Morgon battleship guns lighting up their cockpits as the blast screens automatically deployed. Rock debris splattered against their hulls, the clanks and metallic impacts causing the two pilots to jump, their craft sweeping from side to side violently as they desperately attempted to avoid the explosions and shattered rock.

Laser lights flashed through the blast screen slits, the cockpit warning lights flashing alarmingly with the proximity of the rocks and debris, the warship guns above blasting into the asteroid field in attempts to destroy the elite Trevakian fighter wing.

Behind them two Morgon fighters smashed into the upper atmosphere, their burning craft igniting further as the pilots lost control, their vessels breaking up in the enormous pressure applied to the damaged hulls.

Flight Leader Anjara winced at the pain sweeping through his body, his adrenalin soaring as the display lights on his screen indicated over twelve Morgon fighters were pursuing them, his earpiece buzzing once more, ‘Flight Two sustaining damage, losing altitude commander…attempting to re-enter atmosphere on your command…’

The flight leader grimaced, his tone reluctant, ‘Affirmative number two…drop away sharply to avoid enemy pursuit…’ His voice dropped away as the explosion from below buffeted his fighter, his hand pulling right on the stick to avoid an oncoming rock as energy blasts swept past. The second fighter exploded again, flames pouring from the stricken hull as it lost height dramatically, a fireball erupting against the outer atmosphere as the craft broke up…Anjara was now alone.

In the villages to the east of Morasat, Rees and Jozefina Kapralova ran as part of a group towards the outer defences. Shouts of alarm filled their ears as they scrambled across the snow, passing soldiers manhandling mortars and heavy machine guns forward. American soldiers ran past, dropping into foxholes as they manhandled Stinger and Javelin missiles into forward reserve trenches, ready for use should the enemy seem to be breaking through.

Medics dragged and carried the wounded back past them, the moans of the injured filling their ears as shells began to burst overhead, shrapnel pouring down as they ducked, the flashes causing eery shadows off the walls and emplacements in the dim light.

Sniper rifles cracked overhead, the soldiers aiming for silhouettes in the distant smoke as they fired out from concealed vantage points. Rees jumped as a heavy machine gun chattered into life to his right, muzzle flashes lighting up their faces as they ducked forward, the American heavy weapons unit preparing across the eastern edge as the enemy advanced through the smoke.

Rees heard the muffled American accent from behind a wall, the unit commander’s hand dropping rapidly as he screamed at the men before him in three mortar pits, ‘Fire!’ The dull thuds filled the air as shells were dropped into mortar tubes, the projectiles whistling into the air as they sped towards the enemy.

Jozefina ducked down the ramp before them, the slope leading into a reserve trench as more mortars fired to the north and south. Rees glanced out above the forward position before sliding into the emplacement, his eyes widening and body stiffening as he saw the line of smoke from one end of the horizon to the other. Dull explosions whipped through the shroud, the detonations from mortar shells flashing through the dense smoke as the American guns fired relentlessly. Tracers poured out across the terrain, the red hot bullets bouncing against obstacles and flying into the encroaching thick mist as the distant shrieks of hatred were just audible.

Jozefina screamed at him from below, ‘Rees! Get your behind into the trench! The South Koreans are to the right…we need to get to Kim!’

Rees shook his head from the sights, his body slipping forward half crouched as Jozefina slapped his shoulder, shouting into his ear, ‘I am not losing you too! Now move in front and keep alert so I can keep an eye on you!’

Anjara swept his craft round, six Morgon fighters now pursuing him across space. His eyes sparkled with adrenalin, the fear and excitement pumping through his veins as he thrust the stick back to the left, laser blasts sweeping past the cockpit as he attempted to avoid the enemy fire.

Then the fighter bucked suddenly, smoke pouring from one of the rear engines as he thrust the stick forward instinctively, the craft spiralling downwards towards the outer atmosphere, the black fighters pursuing their damaged prey.

Cold sweat poured across his body, the vision before him spiralling as the fighter spun, the electronic voice loud in his ears in alarm, ‘Alarm: Atmospheric descent too steep…adjust elevation. Critical angle of elevation…Adjust! Adjust!’

Anjara bit his scarred lips, counting mentally as he grasped the stick tightly, his breath held as he pulled sharply back, the remaining engine screaming behind as the fighter levelled and soared upwards, the electronics shouting, ‘Stall! Stall!’

The Morgon craft swept past, three of the pilots too slow to react as their craft tore down into the atmosphere below, flames searing down the sides of the hulls as the vessels began to screech and grind with the pressure, then imploding, the flamed explosions whipping across the dark space below. 

Anjara’s fighter hung in the air, the engine kicking as he stared upwards, the stars and deep darkness seeming so beautiful as he shook his head in complete defeat. He disengaged the blast shields, checking his graphic screen below as he flicked on boosters and auto stabiliser rockets. Cracking his gloved hand against the engine ignitors, the craft shuddered, then jolted forward as the last engine cut in, his hand pushing forward on the stick as the remaining black Morgon craft circled in for their final kill. Four more black fighters broke from formation high above, their commander shrieking at them ‘to blow the Viper from space, to finish him!’

The silver star fighter swept downwards towards the atmosphere, Anjara waiting for the burst of flame, the split second explosion that would end his life. His eyes widened as he stiffened, the earpiece burbling, ‘Flight Leader…this is your Number Two…proceed back to Morasat immediately…I will see you on the ground!’

Flight Leader Anjara shook his head in stunned silence, his voice trembling as the fighter swept towards the atmosphere, laser blasts sweeping past as the Morgon fighters closed on him, ‘S-Somas?’

The explosion behind rocked his craft, the silver fighter sweeping between Anjara’s vessel and the pursuing Morgons as they banked violently. Debris from the disintegrating black fighter smacked against Anjara’s hull, the craft bucking as it tore into the upper atmosphere, the blast shields automatically sweeping across his cockpit as flames and sparks surged along the fuselage.

Flashes swept through the cockpit, the instruments sparking as they fused, the automated voice cut off as the alarm sounded, ‘Danger…’

The scorched fighter continued downwards, lights beginning to glow across the instruments as they shorted and blew under the intense pressure, Anjara wincing as pain swept through his body, his burns and injuries stirring and heightening once more as the heat in the cockpit increased dramatically. Two black craft surged after him, their pilots’ eager for a final kill as they chased him through the atmosphere ring, the remaining Morgon craft turning to pursue the last Viper fighter across space above.

Breaking through the atmosphere, Anjara could hear the wind whistling to either side of the cockpit, his remaining engine flaring and burning out as he tried to regain control. The scorched vessel started to turn in the air, the Flight Leader’s stomach twisting as he realised there was limited time left. The blast shields swept back, the terrain below beginning to fill his forward screen as the lights across the cockpit flashed in alarm. His eyes strained as he saw the thick line of smoke across the ground, flames pouring from the rear of the fighter as he grimaced, tears filling his eyes as he grasped the lever to his side.

The machine guns rattled behind the front positions as Rees and Jozefina ducked behind the trench walls. The screams of rockets sped overhead as observers stared into the smoke with binoculars, searching for the enemy as silhouettes moved through the shroud, the crack of sniper rifles becoming more frequent.

Lieutenant Kim dropped next to them, his visor lowered as he shouted above the intense din, ‘The Morgons are advancing in force it seems…all available manpower has been moved to these positions. We must beat them back…or we will all die…’ His voice tailed off as he looked at Rees, the man’s hand extending upwards as he stared into the sky.

Jozefina and Kim spun round, following his outstretched limb to see the smoke trail heading high across the sky below the clouds, flames pouring in the wake of the falling craft. Black fighters swept in behind the smoke as Kim shouted round frantically, ‘Enemy aircraft incoming!’

The jets of fire swept upwards from behind, the stinger and javelin missiles rising majestically into the air as they ‘locked on’ to the black vessels, their navigators behind ensuring targets were not duplicated to conserve the sparse ammunition.

A wall of fire swept upwards through the smoke as the defenders stared out in awe, the bodies of the advancing enemy incinerated or tossed into the air across the centre of the front, the shattered craft bouncing and exploding through the murk. Jozefina screamed in fright, Lieutenant Kim grasping her shoulder as she shook, her head shaking as he shouted, ‘What is it?’

She pointed out into the snow covered land, Kim staring in shock as he saw the ejector seat boosters surge, the parachute opening as the pilot fell slowly to earth. Sporadic tracers rose into the air as he stared open mouthed, then spun round, screaming desperately, ‘Covering fire!’ The South Korean glanced back, watching the camouflaged combat uniform dart forward half-crouched from shell hole to shell hole, the soldier heading for the pilot as he drifted to earth before the smoke. He thrust his body to the trench wall, staring open mouthed as the figure darted and weaved, the helmeted head glancing up to check the pilot’s descent.

Jozefina was shaking uncontrollably with shock, her scream echoing after the distant figure, ‘Rees!’

Bullets whipped past, Riaz beginning to feel his legs drain of energy as he ran on. The small group struggling forward in the heavy snowfall, the combat suit supplements to their exertions almost exhausted as they forced their tired bodies forward.

An explosion behind spurred them on, shouts echoing through the heavy snowflakes as they lunged forward exhausted. The flash of a rocket as it soared above them caused them to duck their shoulders, debris and dusts swirling around them as the explosion burst against rocks in front.

Tregan shouted across them desperately, his voice strained, ‘Keep going…not much further!’

Two marines slipped against the rocks to the either side, firing back blindly into the snowfall in attempt to delay their pursuers. More projectiles zipped past, another marine stumbling as one bullet hit his back, his body collapsing forward as Shino grabbed his arm, the man screaming in pain as blood splattered from his wound. Debra lunged forward, her boots slipping on the iced surface as she roughly grabbed the man’s other arm, spurring him on as the shouts from behind sounded nearer.

Riaz spun round, swearing aloud as he fired two bursts back through the snowfall, his boots slipping in the snow as another Trevakian screamed in pain, his body slumping forward. Riaz shook his head in frustration, running to the downed figure and dragging him across the snow as more bullets whipped past, a thin blood trail extending across the iced ground.

The flare of a rocket swept between them, the explosion rumbling ahead as the projectile erupted. Debra squealed in anger, the body between her and Shino stumbling again as they thrust forward. Tregan dropped to one knee, scattering his three pulse grenades across the track, then scrambling backwards, grabbing the arm of the injured marine dragged by Riaz. The Asian male grimaced at the pain sweeping through his shoulders, his voice a strained hiss, ‘I am not coming here again on holiday!’

Shino started giggling nervously, the situation beyond mental comprehension as she dragged the wounded body forward. Debra screamed in anger, ‘Not now for f……’

The pulse grenades detonated behind, dull thumps followed by screams and shouts of alarm as the Silaks slowed in nervousness and fear. Several dropped next to their injured countrymen, the extreme moaning and crying out filling the whitened nearby terrain as the soldiers slowed, fearful of more grenades or mines in the snow ahead. They fired controlled bursts in anger through the snowfall, screams of hatred spilling through the murk.

The group ducked down further, Tregan dragging the injured man along, indicating to the others, ‘Drop your grenades…but only pulse…not the others!’

The rear Trevakian marines tossed their explosives, lunging after the others before dropping to their knees once more, firing two bursts to the rear, then rising and running a short distance before repeating their firing actions.

Shino glanced down, the soldier between her and Debra moaning loudly, blood dribbling from his mouth onto the snow below as she winced, ‘He is losing a lot of blood…can’t we stop? He could die!’

Tregan shouted back, his tone firm as he spat snow from his mouth, ‘Keep going…it can’t be much further. Look out for the torches!’

They surged forward, the last of their energy depleting quickly as the pace increased, Debra beginning to gasp for air from the exertion as she dropped to her knees.

Silhouettes swept through the snowfall before them, Shino gasping in alarm as three Trevakian marines emerged through the mist and flurry, their hands outstretched to assist them and wounded, another six marines running behind with their assault rifles raised.

A familiar voice swept through the snowfall, ‘Come on, get a move on! Get the wounded back to the outpost and create a protective screen…drive the Silaks back if they advance!’ Captain Dugachard stepped through the thick snowfall, her visor down and rifle extended, ‘Move Now!’

Tregan gritted his teeth, grinning in frustration as he shouted, ‘You heard the
lady
…get back to the outpost!’ Gunfire erupted behind them, eight Trevakian marines firing controlled bursts as the captain strode towards them, her own muzzle flashing as she fired back along the track.