Crow Bait

[LeftEar JoNs 0]

Commander JoNs was not a pilot by choice, yet she had the credentials, the training and the skills. But, JoNs viewed piloting a starfighter as an extension of her Security duties, and not something she was ‘gung ho’ for, as the Humans said. The Caitian would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that it was nice to get some flight time off the station, however.

 

She spoke into her helmets mounted inset. “Revenge Ops, LeftEar. Initiating launch run now and will keep you apprised of my progress. LeftEar out.”

 

Once the acknowledgement from the FOPS shift lead, JoNs powered up her engines to half throttle and set a steady pace away from the Revenge flight bay and towards her intended reconnaissance target.

 

From a distance, the planet designated as Maanne was pretty. As relocation targets went, the continents showed varying terrain with suitable atmosphere to the Romulan physiology. The relocation project would take years to complete; reconnaissance of the planets was merely the first step in a long process.

 

Breaking out of the lower-atmosphere, the Caitian pilot gently pulled on the throttle control and guided her Peregrine towards the southern continent, dropping further through the cloud cover. The heavy starfighter responded precisely and the felinoid preferred the older Peregrine model fighters to the newer fighter classes as the PG’s were more stable, and well suited to both interception and reconnaissance; ‘go faster’ wasn’t necessarily the better option.

 

Her assignment with Victory Wing was mapping the coastline area along the northern most tip of the land mass on down towards the southern territories, deploying marker probes along the grid. The probes would also be used to track and gather data on any seismic activity and climate changes. In addition, the electronic countermeasures suite onboard the Peregrine would record real time images and data, transmitting the packets back to Revenge for processing by the scientific types.

 

Left Ear made a few adjustments to the authorized flight path on record with the Revenge’s FOPS officer, transmitting new location updates. Once she received confirmation, she banked the fighter to the right and came around in a downward arc, jetting towards the uppermost continental area.

 

***

The tenth microprobe hit home, landing a few kilometers within from a marshland boundary that separated the coastline from the inner lands.

 

JoNs brought the Peregrine to a slightly higher altitude, continuing to cruise along the coast line. The ocean water was a deep purple. The terrain wasn’t much for farming, but the beaches were untouched and the inner marsh lands rich and lush with fauna and wildlife.

 

With one paw she entered codes and instructions into the cockpit keyboard, booting up the onboard database capabilities. The electronic countermeasures suite was at full power, the codes instructing the onboard computers to utilize the reconnaissance programming. The external sensors and camera feeds snapped pictures and recorded data of the climate, terrain, and geography.

 

A rock formation jutted up and out from the beach and ocean ahead, formed over eons. This section of coastline ended here. Hundreds of avians nested in the crevice and indentations within the rock walls.

 

Left Ear moved the fighter further out so as not to spook the birds as she passed by and around the small mountain, coming about in a graceful arc, the left wing downward. She couldn’t make out individual features of the birds, but knew they were mostly black. She kept her Peregrine at an even pace so as to record and upload some prime footage.

 

Unknown to the pilot, a predatory pack of lizards feeding on the eggs of the birds chose that moment to launch a foraging attack; working their way along on the lower edges of the rocks.

 

***

Coming around to sweep the other side of the perching grounds, JoNs flew right into a solid wall of birds as three quarters of them took flight away from the encroaching predators. The onslaught of the birds slammed the belly of the Peregrine and actually moved the starfighter off course and upwards.

 

The felinoid’s moment of panic passed in seconds, and then reflexes and training kicked in. Death by birds – let alone a cat piloting a ‘Peregrine’ class starfighter meets the local birds? No thank you with the irony – was just not acceptable as a way to go out. Today was not a good day to die.

 

Attempting to ride the upward thrust from the wave of bodies, she initiated the jump jets and cut back on the throttle. The maneuver was too little, too late as several birds were sucked into the intake vent manifold. Alarms blared and the main console cockpit flashed warnings, the most pressing of which was “failure in right engine”. The black birds buffeted against the canopy of the cockpit, killed instantly from the force of the impact.

 

Peregrine 14 tilted dangerously to the right as the compromised engine sputtered out and the remaining engine strained against the loss of balance to the other wing.

 

She growled low in her throat; this was either going to work out really well or really bad. Left Ear scaled the throttle back completely on the remaining engine, relying on jumpers and her own skills to bring the battered Peregrine bird – no pun intended – in for a landing on the stretch of beach.

 

Come on, come on, come on…stop! Oh Great Hunter, this puddle jumper isn’t going to stay put on the upper beach…

 

She hit once, bouncing. Momentum launched her fighter over the drop off onto the lower beach and she went airborne; the Peregrine hit the sand once, bounced and then skidded down the beach about thirty feet. JoNs maintained control of the bucking beast as best she could, generally keeping it on a skewed landing pattern to come to a jarring stop.

 

Any landing you could walk away from…“Well that was fun...”

 

The Revenge OPS officer’s insistent voice on her helmet comm brought her out of the momentary daze. She snarled, more from clearing her mental haze than at the pirate…officer. She’d meant officer.

 

“Revenge, this is JoNs. Yes, I’m fine, relatively speaking. Hit the sand. Give me a few, I need to assess damage…” Hitting the release mechanism, the canopy popped open. The felinoid officer scuttled from out of the cockpit to hop on a wing.

 

The Peregrine was flight worthy, no lasting damage. Engine had no structural damage. The fighter would probably break planetary atmosphere to get her back to Revenge. There were pilots who had a devil may care attitude, who wouldn’t think twice about re-launching and breaking atmosphere. Some were really young hotshots. Others were really old hotshots that had somehow managed to survive with their crazy antics.

 

She was not that type of pilot as caution was always an option. She didn’t want to take the chance of not being able to pull out from the atmosphere with one engine, should the compromised one blow out again.

 

“Revenge, this is Left Ear. I need a tow at the uploaded coordinates. I had a close encounter of the avian kind…”