For the Martian army, the Whirlwind wasn't considered advanced equipment.
In terms of speed, the Whirlwind would be completely outmatched by UNSA's Jackal.
In terms of armament, the modular Jackal fighter offered a wider variety of configurations.
However, compared to the Jackal, the Whirlwind boasted greater maneuverability; its variable-sweep wings allowed it to turn on the spot.
Moreover, the Whirlwind was designed as a space-and-air superior fighter, while the Jackal was a multi-role heavy fighter; their focuses were different.
But this didn't mean the Whirlwind couldn't defeat the Jackal, especially when the Jackal, hidden in the gas cloud, had a very limited radar detection range.
Fisher, piloting his fighter, glanced at the sensors.
Due to Europa's thick ice surface, the temperature in the area was extremely low, and the fighter's glass canopy was already covered in a layer of frost.
"Attention, Golden Three, we cannot let them send out a warning.
Do not use missiles; get closer and take them out with autocannons!" Fisher's lead plane said over the comms channel.
"Understood, Golden One!"
Although the Whirlwind fighter wasn't as versatile as the Jackal, it also had several configurations: heavy armor-piercing missiles for anti-ship combat, and attack missiles for ground targets.
As for autocannons, Fisher preferred a setup with two laser cannons and two 50mm autocannons.
This allowed for rapid attacks on enemy fighters, and when encountering UNSA warships, the 50mm cannons could still hold their own, making it a very versatile configuration.
The Jackal fighters from the UNSA lab were unaware that four hostile aircraft were tailing them.
Due to the obscuring dust and ice, their radar had completely failed to detect the enemy less than six hundred kilometers behind them.
Fisher and his team had also not activated their target acquisition radar to avoid alerting the enemy.
Furthermore, the Olympus Mons's long-range detectors continuously provided them with flight correction data, much like radar.
Four hundred kilometers, three hundred kilometers, two hundred kilometers.
It wasn't until Fisher and the two Jackal fighters were less than a hundred kilometers apart that their radar detected something amiss.
"Calling unidentified aircraft, you have entered UNSA facility airspace.
I order you to immediately shut down your engines and land, otherwise, we reserve the right to shoot you down!" the Jackal fighter pilot yelled over the public channel.
"Pfft! These guys are too naive! Golden Two, activate signal jamming; don't let them send out any messages!"
The Golden Squadron leader's pilot sneered disdainfully, then engaged the Whirlwind's thrusters.
The UNSA pilots hadn't yet figured out what these guys were up to.
When they realized the other side wasn't responding, one pilot switched channels, intending to contact the ground, but only static filled the channel.
"They're approaching rapidly; this is a surprise attack, quick, scatter!"
Seeing the unidentified aircraft suddenly accelerate on their radar, the awakened UNSA pilots tried to turn their planes to engage, but that hundred-plus kilometers was only a matter of ten-odd seconds in front of the accelerating Whirlwinds.
When Fisher saw the Jackal fighters, faintly visible in the thick gas cloud, they were just completing their turn.
"Good opportunity!" Looking at the Jackal facing him, Fisher didn't hesitate and pressed the firing button.
The two 20mm cannons beneath the Whirlwind's nose emitted a captivating blue glow, produced as the magnetically accelerated armor-piercing rounds exited the barrel.
Then Fisher watched as half of that Jackal fighter's wing simply vanished.
"Lima One, I've been hit! Eject, eject!" The hit Jackal pilot frantically called for help from the base, but the radio channel was still static.
The other Jackal was also in dire straits; Golden One and Four were sandwiching him, and it was only a matter of time before he was shot down.
The UNSA research base was not entirely unaware of what was happening outside.
After communications were cut, they immediately dispatched personnel to the surface to prepare for laser communication.
The soldiers sent to the surface witnessed their fighter jets burning, spiraling, and crashing to the ground.
"Commander, airspace clear!"
"Deploy ground forces; I want everything in that lab!"
The Olympus Mons, under the helmsman's control, approached the surface.
The robot troops and marines, ready in the deployment bay, immediately dropped onto the surface once the bay opened and launched their attack.
Despite the overwhelming odds, the Earth forces did not surrender.
The security forces guarding the research base quickly took elevators to the surface, building defenses on the thick ice and resisting layer by layer to buy time for destruction operations inside the base.
Bullets, energy beams, plasma streams, and missiles crisscrossed the battlefield.
Because Europa's surface was a hundred kilometers of thick ice, the defending UNSA forces had few permanent fortifications on the surface, only some mobile shelters and automated turrets.
However, under their desperate counterattack and suppressive fire, the attacking Martian Colonial Marines were pinned down and unable to move, forced to request close air support from the Whirlwinds.
"Golden Squadron, flatten their resistance!" a ground operations commander roared, his face contorted with ferocity.
"Understood! We're coming!"
Fisher piloted his Whirlwind, closely following his lead plane.
Tracer rounds occasionally streaked past the fighter's sides; these were anti-aircraft machine guns firing from the ground defenders, but this weak firepower was insufficient to threaten the Whirlwind.
The fire control radar chirped, and the head-up display flashed a red box, indicating that the radar had locked onto the target.
Roaring missiles and autocannon fire became the last straw, and the exploding shrapnel engulfed the defenders' positions.
One must remember that Europa was not Earth; temperatures here were below -160 degrees Celsius, and there was no oxygen.
Once a spacesuit was breached, hypothermia and lack of oxygen would quickly claim one's life.
The steel torrent rolled over the battle lines.
The shattered limbs of UNSA soldiers, mixed with water vapor melted by explosions, quickly froze again.
Gushing blood left vivid streaks on the ice, like an artist's masterpiece blooming on the planet.
The tireless, pain-immune robot army continued to advance, and the surviving UNSA soldiers vanished like foam in a wave, surfacing only to disappear.
"Golden Squadron, the Olympus Mons is performing a maneuver.
You can land on the surface first and wait for us to return!"
"Understood, can we participate in ground combat?"
"No, you can only enter after the robots confirm it's safe!"
"Alright, I was hoping to kill a couple more Earthlings!"
Landing his fighter on an open ice field, Fisher ensured his protective gear was intact before opening the cockpit.
"Three, we're going to join the fight, what about you!" The lead pilot shouted at Fisher.
"Can I wander around near the battlefield and pick up a souvenir or something?"
"Of course, we'll be right back!" Frankly, Fisher's lead plane didn't pay much attention to this newly assigned wingman.
In his view, Fisher was just a local fleet member coming for a 'gold-plating' experience, staying on the Olympus Mons to get a feel for the atmosphere of war before leaving.
So he didn't care and led his subordinates to the elevator.
Flig, flying over, faithfully followed behind Fisher.
It held a Volk assault rifle in its hand, and a large folding shield in its left hand.
Its crimson electronic eyes vigilantly scanned the oncoming blizzard.
Fisher walked silently across the recent battlefield.
The craters left by missiles and shells on the ice had already been filled with snow.
The bodies of the UNSA soldiers who had died not long ago still lay there, quietly resting where they fell.
The Martian Colonial Marines had no intention of collecting their bodies, but Fisher could now see these lost souls wandering aimlessly across the battlefield.
The Light of the Astromican shone once more, and intense golden psychic flames surged from within Fisher, illuminating a corner of the dim sub-space.
Then, the souls of the fallen, as if finding their destination, rushed into the flames of the Astromican.
Fisher, however, was drenched in cold sweat.
As countless souls poured into the Astromican, they also brought with them their memories and lingering attachments from life.
Fisher, like watching a movie countless times, re-experienced everything they had gone through.
Despite the protection of his psychic abilities, Fisher's mind did not collapse from these memories, but it still left him physically exhausted.
However, as these souls made the Light of the Astromican even brighter, an endless stream of power restored Fisher's physical strength and even further enhanced his body.
This is? Fisher clenched his fists.
The Astromican not only strengthened his body, but also the combat skills and experiences of those fallen soldiers continuously flowed into Fisher's mind.
However, these experiences and skills were very vague, like fragmented whispers, not providing much improvement to Fisher himself.
More memories vanished like a stone sinking into the sea, leaving no trace.
Just as Fisher was still savoring the memories flooding his mind, Flig's alarm suddenly blared.
"What is it?" Fisher pulled out his pistol and looked at the distant storm.
The alarm beeped, transmitting data to Fisher's helmet display.
The data showed signs of life activity in a crater not far from Fisher.
Fisher ordered the robot to stay put and cautiously approached with his weapon.
He found a living UNSA soldier, barely clinging to life, but still tightly clutching an empty pistol.
"Hey, hey!" Fisher stepped forward, preparing to awaken the soldier and provide aid, but the next second, Flig appeared beside him, its assault rifle aimed at the soldier.
"No!" Fisher grabbed Flig's arm, with such force that even the armor slightly deformed.
But he was still too late.
The Volk's muzzle had already spat out blue flames.
Plasma ammunition tore through the soldier's protective suit, and the wound froze almost instantly.
Although the soldier was still groaning in pain, Fisher knew he was finished.
"I'm sorry!" Fisher placed his hand on the soldier's helmet, and flames erupted, engulfing his body.
Wuwuwu, graduation season is really busy, I apologize, brothers, I won't say more, I'm going to work on my thesis now.