Chapter 372 - Far Future Ch. 82 – Raise You Up, On Eagle’s Wings... (1/2)
You couldn't fly drones in the Warp zone, you needed actual pilots. So, Azure and her fliers were having the time of their freaking lives here.
Making up TL4-5 stuff was incredibly easy. A few printers could run off parts basically constantly. With no need for refined components, and basically down to hydrocarbons and mechanics, that level of simple stuff could be assembled almost as fast as they could design plans for them.
Naturally, that didn't mean the advantage of being a TL10 civilization wasn't there. Tolerances were incredible, printing was much better than assembly, so things were being built at 25-30 QL's, meaning their performance and maintenance was much smoother and easier.
Roaring prop-jobs raced ahead, and those incoming fighters found themselves in the dogfight of their lives. I was up there as Azure, screaming in ecstasy as I pulled a 10g turn that would have flattened most people, not even getting tunnel vision, totally flummoxing the guys trying to tail me as they helplessly overshot, and suddenly I was spinning over and on their tail like the air was serenading me.
I blew tracers through the wingman within ten seconds as we gyrated back and forth through the sky, and the main pilot thought he had looped behind me when I pulled a 12 g turn so hard it looked like I was sliding sideways through the sky. His rear shooter had just about enough time to panic as I peppered them and roared on past on all that horsepower.
Boo-yeah!
I had the entire aerial ballet going on clearly pictured in my mind, as radar worked for shit in this area, synthesizing everyone's viewpoints and input and plotting everything over several thousand feet of sky.
Marktells flew this way and that, and scattered dogfights started to gather and cross. As they did, enemy planes were shredded in crossfire. No computers here, pure intellect and reflexes, and pulling all them g's as the wind shrieked and engines thundered and tried to tear free of the sky...
Uh, yeah, Azure really loved to fly...
Like solving a puzzle, the enemy planes began to come apart in the skies as they were pulled in front of our fliers with /tellepathic coordination. It took less than two minutes for forty of them to plummet from the skies, with only two of ours falling, razzed mercilessly by the rest of us as they had to bail out.
They parachuted down and landed smoothly on the long line of prone Imperial legionnaires all upside down watching the fight above in amused detachment. The Disks didn't let go, so they had no problem 'hanging' upside down on the Disks to enjoy the show as we sped along.
Naturally I had to form up Azure's team as honor guards, one squadron on overwatch while the others scoured the area. We didn't have radar, but we had a very big /Marktell with The Map, and nothing got in the air within hundreds of miles without having eyeballs on it very quickly. The Marktell Positioning System was working perfectly well within the vivified zone.
I asked the Marines idly on the radio if they'd prefer taking a ride on the planes instead of the Disks, and somehow wasn't all that surprised when I got a lot of enthusiastic agreements.
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The mid-air transfers didn't actually take all that long. The Disk Train swooped over the wing of a plane holding level, a very strong hand reached out to lock on the cockpit, the Marine swung over, locked his magnetics to the airframe, one Marine on each side, and the pilot pulled ahead with a whoop.
Soon the only ones left were me, Briggs, Corporal Tummal, and Captain Donnal, while the rest of the Emerald Bulls were roaring into the distance on swooping, diving, spinning, and generally enjoying themselves prop-jobs.
Of course, with only the four of them, Briggs could windbreak with me, and we could move a lot faster. Not having to keep a low profile meant that the planes actually weren't outdistancing me, and the people behind me could sit up and watch everything going on.
Despite himself, Captain Donnal found himself appreciating the aesthetics of the aircraft. ”Is that a Mechanist design, Colonel?” he asked over the radio.
”No, Captain. Too many design flaws in what we could dredge up. We had to go back to basics and design some totally new things to fit in the zone limits. Came out pretty well. Nobody's designed aircraft that don't need anti-grav for so long that the only thing out there was recreational ultralights for some serious hobbyists. Weaponizing them was fun for all concerned. Of course, we've got the basic Runecraft incorporated, but took the next step for Rantha-level Warp Resistance. They are holding up fine here.”
”Rantha-level Warp Resistance, Colonel?” I had his immediate attention.
”I own a company that makes extremely Warp-resistant combat tech and computer systems for the Coronals and Umbrans.” I turned my head slightly back. ”Huh. I don't think any of the Legions use Vakker-tech or Rantha-tech. I haven't looked into it, but I'm pretty sure you're under some pretty exclusive contracts for wargear, right?”
He grunted. ”Our arms and armor have been supplied exclusively by the Mechanists for millennia, Colonel.”
”Yeah, they love not having to invent new stuff and having a monopoly on old tech.” His face stayed level, but his eyes flashed. Our Autobows had definitely drawn some interest from the Marines. ”Shame, I would have liked to outfit you with some upgraded kit, but, rules are rules...”
And as the main base drew nearer, I left him to think about what he was going to do.
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Captain Donnal sat down before the holographic projector, still thinking.