RF-31 LRF Valkyrie Concept Sketches + Backstory (fanfic)

[RF-26AAC]

Got bored of posting it in my RF-26 thread, felt like making a new one for this fighter.

RF-31 LRF

RF-31 LRF

LONG RANGE FIGHTER

[heavy escort type]

Twin experimental fold boosters, attached to forearms.

Variable geometry delta wings. Fold behind back angel-style.

Supplemented with twin vertical stabilizers and also outfitted with a set of variable position canards just behind the cockpit.

Cockpit is of cab forward design, with almost no nose material in front of the cockpit.

In fighter form, fold boosters rest on anterior of fighter longitudinally, integrated into the main-plane delta wings.

Heavy armor, large fuel tank, autopilot/softsleep capable.

Interface: BDI-system, does not require BDI capable helmets, instead operating through a set of bolsters to either side of the pilot's head.

Melee fighter; limited long-range sniping capabilities or medium range combat OK

battroid form: experimental fold boosters can be used as offensive fold dislocation weaponry (as in create a hole in something by sending the contents of that hole somewhere else) and pinpoint barrier battering ram.

Space-Whale core-driven fold boosters x 2, Space Whale blood cooled.

Offensive projectile weaponry:

2x head/turret mounted lasers

2x Gatling/Machine guns, fighter mode only, ventral nose-mount.

1x Glock Industries 40mm plasma carbine

or

1x 30mm Springfield Armory plasma spike projectile machinegun, 2500 rds.

32x smart missiles (mounted in calves)

12x micro missiles (mounted in forearms above wrists)

24x micro missles (chest housing)

Propulsion:

atmospheric flight: supplementary thermonuclear reaction turbofan thrusters

space flight: thermonuclear reaction plasma-based primary thrust verniers

10x maneuvering verniers

FAST pack compatible

Following the largely unsuccessful RF-26 AAC proof-of-concept test bed, General Galaxy continued development ultimately resulting in the bizarre RF-31 LRF Variable fighter.

The RF-26 had been such a failure because of the extreme level of risk to the pilot (cockpit vulnerability) and the lack of reliability did not help its case for production either.

Around 2046, General Galaxy had felt that there was quite the market for a heavy long range escort fighter, particularly for colonial fleets, and the RF-31 was designed to answer the call.

At the time, it was also experimenting with a new type of fold booster to compete with the machinery being developed by L.A.I at the time, and General Galaxy chose to integrate two of the boosters into the design of the unit, though they *could* be removed from the fighter. This yielded an exceptional long-range fold capability with minimal timeloss, permitting fold travel practically in real time. Using the twin booster system, one can successfully fold from one side of the galaxy to the other and appear a moment later than it left in a different location. However, this capability was not without its flaws.

The system was too radical, too unstable, too dangerous for mass production.

Ultimately, three fully functional prototypes were built and tested with a fourth never reached completion. However, the very thing that made them so adept at long range travel, their prototype fold boosters, also made them dangerous to the pilot. One of the fighters was destroyed when the fold boosters were destabilized and consequently resulted in the very surgical "halving" of the fighter (and its pilot).. the two halves reappearing in space approximately 40 feet apart from one another. Another fighter was lost when experimenting with the combat-functionality of the twin boosters. One of the boosters created an unstable fold fault, swallowing the fighter in its entirety as well as the VF-11b camera-crew fighter following it. Its wreckage was discovered by Colony 23 in 2047 on the other side of the galaxy. Only the second of the original three fighters remains functional.

The remaining fighter and its unfinished sister vessel (along with the mangled wreckage of the other two prototypes) were last seen on a transport bound for the scrapyard. The transport never arrived at its destination.

This is the story of what really happened to the final RF-31, and the man who disappeared with it.

===============

Rhynn Kohler had dreamed of being a fighter pilot since he was a kid. At 17 and a half, he signed up with UN SPACY's patrol division. He had excelled in the academy, ranking third in class- he would have been first if he didn't have such a hatred for busywork. After graduating from the flight academy, he was slated to be assigned to a Valkyrie squadron, pending his passing a flight skills test. Unfortunately, thanks to a weapons malfunction accident during his flight test that resulted in the deaths of two civilians, he was kicked out of the flight program. UN SPACY was so upset and the media coverage so negative, that although court marshall found Kohler innocent of any wrongdoing, he was then forbidden by UN SPACY law to operate an armed fighter of any kind.

Presented with the option of either joining a Cat's Eye team as the radar operator or resignation, Kohler resigned. Kohler refused to be relegated to being stuck behind a desk, even if that desk was on a plane. To hell with that. He had said, "I’ll never be anything but a pilot! I won’t be a damn passenger—If I can’t be the pilot, I don't want to fly for you bastards!"

His immature outburst had done more harm than good. "Then you won't fly for ANYONE.", the Court Martial judge had said, and revoked Kohler's civilian flight license as well.

Deprived of his dreams and out of a job, Kohler signed up for a salvage/scrap hauling company, Kilroy Space Salvage co.

It was the year 2048. Rhynn had been working for Kilroy for three months now, and was working battlefield materials recovery and hauling scrap to the smelting facility on one of the rearward colony ships.

Mr. Kilroy had been particularly pleased when his company had gotten the contract to haul General Galaxy's wrecked test fighters to the smelter.

It was another boring run between the smelter and General Galaxy's test facility. Kohler had been warned that there were reports of Pirates operating in the sector the colony was now traveling through, and Kohler had every reason to be on guard.

Mr. Kilroy stood at the helm of his scrap barge, looking over the glorious scrap he would smelt into valuable metals to be resold to the manufacturers.

"Kohler, doublecheck the tie downs on that old satellite we picked up! Those old things are full of precious metals and I don't want to risk having it come loose!" Kilroy demanded, from the safety of the bridge.

"Yessir, Mr. Kilroy." Kohler replied over the radio, and stepped through the airlock and out onto the barge's deck.

Kohler paced the deck, checking the tie-downs on all of the space junk that had been collected on the barge's magnetic deck.

It wasn't terribly dark in this region of space, rather, there was more than enough starlight to move about as easily as if he were on Earth at sunset.

Among a pile of other General Galaxy fighter pieces were a couple of damaged but mostly-complete fold boosters. The things looked like they had Valkyrie forearms still attached to them, too. That struck Kohler as odd, because they typically don't send mostly complete fold-equipment for recycling. Maybe they were from their General Galaxy's skunkworks, he thought.

Suddenly, a shadow passed over Kohler and the deck, and then another. He looked up, but saw nothing to obscure his view... wait.

Something wasn't right. The space above him rippled, and flowed like water, the stars moving slightly out of place and then back, like flowers in a breeze.

The hell? Then a chunk of space flickered for a second, and Kohler caught a glimpse of the profile of a fighter, and was gone again in a flash. OH poo. PIRATES.

"Mr. Kilroy! Pirates!!" Kohler shouted over the radio.

"You've got to be kidding me! I don't see anything!!" Mr Kilroy replied in outright disbelief. He paused for a moment, and looked carefully across the spread of stars from horizon to horizon. He couldn't see anything. After a moment, Mr. Kilroy spoke again.

"Kohler, get back in here and get some rest. I don't need my staff hallucinating on duty."

Shocked by the brush-off, Kohler insisted.

"Sir, they have cloaking devices!"

"Impossible, nobody has that technolog---"

Mr. Kilroy's reply was cut short as the bridge was hit with around fifty shells, exploding into a giant fireball as all of the oxygen ignited and escaped into space.

As they opened fire, their cloaking devices were disrupted and it became clear just what was attacking the barge. Five fighters and a large, first-generation Zentradi transport shuttle. Now visible, the remaining crew fired up the defensive weaponry-- which in sum total consisted of two scrap-sourced Zentradi laser batteries and an outdated missile launcher. All of which were promptly destroyed. There was nowhere for Kohler to run, all he could do was hide among the junk. He darted for the nearest thing, which just happened to be that stack of fold boosters and wrecked fighter parts. He darted over, and pressed up against it to hide.

'Damnit, they must be after these fold boosters', Kohler thought to himself. 'Oh well, at least they're not likely to shoot here... I wish I had some way to fight back, I don't want to be murdered unarmed and alone...'

The pirates opened fire at the deck of the barge, perforating the junk on deck with 30mm holes. The deck electromagnets began to fail, and the junk started to drift free of the deck. Robbed of the magnetism that kept his boots planted on the deck, Kohler began drifting away, too. Kohler reached out and grabbed onto the junk he was hiding next to.

As the junk began to drift free, what was at the bottom of the stack began to reveal itself.

He was hanging onto a fighter of some kind. He had never seen it before, nor heard of it.

It must be some experimental model General Galaxy was scrapping.

A round whizzed by Rhynn's head, jarring him from his thoughts.

"shyze! well, if I die, may as well die in the cockpit!"

He reached for the cockpit release, and sure enough, the cockpit illuminated itself and the canopy opened with a cloud of ice as the remaining air inside the canopy escaped into the vacuum. He glided into the cockpit and pulled himself into the seat, and quickly shut the canopy. The control system was completely unfamiliar. Equally unfamiliar were the unusual sidebolsters of the seat that extended about six inches out on either side of his head. The plane lacked much conventional instrumentation. As he looked around, the plane's running lights switched themselves on, catching the pirates attention.

He looked up, just in time to see a modified VF-11b stop, change direction and charge straight for him. His eyes fixed on the fighter charging at him, and as it fired its first round, everything suddenly slowed down.

Time itself had slowed down— or at least, it seemed that it had… He could see everything. The shattered pieces of the barge's bridge and defenses floating away, the dismembered and bullet-ridden corpses of his former coworkers, the junk that had been so carefully collected now floated freely away from the deck. The 30mm shell that had been racing towards him seemed to freeze where it was. He could see it slow, and almost stop. He focused on it, and clenched his teeth, thinking "don't hit me". The plane suddenly juked sharply starboard, and as it did, everything went back to normal speed, Kohler barely catching a glimpse of the bright orange shell racing by just outside the cockpit.

The plane had dodged the shots. By itself, or so it had seemed.

He looked at the charging fighter and again focused on it, and the plane turned its turret and opened fire, destroying it instantly.

This drew the attention of the other four fighters, all of which now made haste towards him, guns blazing.

There's no way I can beat them all like this, not in an unfamiliar plane… I'm getting out of here, he thought. All he could think about was getting away.

I have to get away.

I have to get away.

The plane shuddered sharply, and suddenly he was aware of a faint glow coming from just behind the cockpit.

Fold boosters.

Two of them.

On one plane.

What.

The.

Hell.

The plane shuddered again, and in an instant, everything went away. Colors split violently apart from one another, and for a moment that seemed like an eternity, he both weighed more than he ever had, but was infinitely less massive than he had ever been. Colors melted in a way that even the most magical of mushrooms couldn’t do.

And then with a pop—a sound as quiet as the tiniest soap bubble rupturing-- everything was back to normal… and there was sky.

And there was a ground below him.

And the ground was speeding towards the fighter at breakneck speed.

He didn't even think about it. The plane, seemingly autonomously, had transformed into gerwalk mode and stopped itself, hovering inches away from touching the surface, and then set down. A moment after the gerwalk touched down, a rain of junk and other parts crashed to the ground around his fighter. In addition to the junk from the ship, he also noticed the rather gruesome sight of the front half of a VF-11b cockpit… with a set of legs still on half of the seat. And half of a wing. The fold system had pulled pieces of the pirates' fighters through the fold as well, and left the other parts at the barge.

They had been removed, surgically, from the rest of their respective craft.

The experimental fold system had an unfortunate tendency to take a 50 yard radius of whatever was near it along for the ride whenever the fold system was used, particularly having a sharp cut off radius... unlike other fold systems, it didn't drag other objects that weren't within the fold sphere along for the ride, no, it only took the parts that were within the sphere.

Rhynn Kohler was alive.

He had dodged the bullet this time.

And he, and this strange craft, had both escaped their end.

After a few moments spent pulling his mind back together, Rhynn opened the thick cockpit hatch. Its seal broke with a hiss, pressurized air inside escaping outwards and surveyed the landscape that surrounded him.

Lush and green, the plant obviously supported carbon-based life and photosynthetic organisms. It looked like there was air here. He checked the readout on his spacesuit, and sure enough, there was air—breathable air. Given that he was starting to run low on his O2/nitrogen mix, he gave his helmet a sharp tug upward and twisted it counterclockwise. His ears hurt for a moment as his helmet depressurized. The air smelled clean and fresh, like how Eden had smelled after a fresh rainfall. And there were trees. Strange, foreign, but none-the-less-green trees.

But where was he?

What planet was this?

Rhynn didn’t care too much where he was, he was free of his old life. There was no more shitty work hauling scrap for Mr. Kilroy, there was no more academy to worry about. There was no military or laws to obey.

FREEDOM.

That was a refreshing thought.

Having had sufficient time to recooperate, Rhynn figured now was as good a time as any to inspect the craft he had saved from the smelter (and had in return, saved his life). It was all dark grey, a deep shade of it that reminded him of the pictures of thunderstorms he’d seen in his Earth History textbooks.

The nose and fuselage were quite long by comparison to the VF-17 series models he had trained with in the academy. The single most obvious feature, however, were the bulbous twin fold drives integrated midway out on each wing, dominating the craft’s structure. Clearly, those weren’t going to come off without taking the rest of the craft with it. The plane had unique bulbous styling, almost zentraedi in nature, with a nod to aerodynamics and streamlining in the process. It had been designed to operate in any atmosphere, too. But that much was obvious, it had stopped itself from crashing on a planet with air.

Still standing in ½ Gerwalk mode, a separate set of primary thrusters were its legs, apparently they ran along the belly of the craft. They were complete with a set of gaping intakes just above the hip joint, and much like traditional Valkyries before it, it too enjoyed a reversible knee joint.

Rhynn cracked a smile.

It was weird, but it was gorgeous and exotic. And there wasn’t a damn thing the military could do about his flying it now.

More aware of exactly what he had on his hands, Rhynn returned to the cockpit and started looking around. Small insectoid creatures flitted about in the air, going about their business, unbothered by the presence of the half-plane, half robot.

As he settled back into his seat, as he turned his head, he found the craft moved slightly with the movements of his head, even though he hadn’t turned it on.

The entire floor of the cockpit was a great LCD panel, which he hadn’t noticed until now. The little instrumentation and controls that were found in the cockpit were backups, only controlling throttle, pitch/yaw, thrust angle and primary weapon. These were placed quite far out of reach from the seat, but apparently could be moved towards the pilot. There were no other displays, seeming that these were simply redundant backups should other means of control fail. Redundant controls… every bit of this machine was looking more and more like skunkworks. But what was wrong with it? Why was the General scrapping it, and (what looked like) the wrecks of planes that looked like it?

Obviously, Rhynn wasn’t going to find spare parts if it broke.

On a whim, Rhynn decided to ask aloud, “What is your model name?”

The plane did not reply, but instead flashed a few simple words on the cockpit HUD.

“R F – 3 1

LONG RANGE FIGHTER”

Well, at least it could tell him something useful.

“Date of manufacture?” Rhynn queried.

“18 APRIL, 2046”

“Current location?” Rhynn tried, figuring maybe the craft knew where they were.

It paused for a moment, and displayed “SEARCHING…” while it thought.

“UNDEFINED.”

Well, this thing certainly won’t make good conversation—and he was kind of glad it hadn’t. He’d hate to have a plane nag him.

With that, he figured there was no time like the present to actually look around more than what he was currently surrounded by. So, how to get the thing to move again… The controls were there as a redundant backup, so there must be another means of control… How had he moved it last time? Was the plane equipped with an auto-defense system? Surely not, the plane’s AI did not seem to be terribly complicated. Perhaps this was deliberate, given the messy Sharon Apple incident a few years ago. Rhynn hadn’t been there, but he’d read all about it. He hadn’t been a fan in gradeschool.

Bringing his thought full circle, it dawned on him that this plane, the child of General Galaxy, is likely equipped with the discontinued-because-it-was-dangerous BDI direct neural interface system, but some new variant that did not require the pilot to wear specialty gear. Placing his head back into the seat, he thought about ascending and how he’d like to go forward. As soon as it had occurred to him, the RF-31’s engines clicked on, and just like that, the plane was hovering above ground, slowly climbing to an altitude of around 50 feet, then folded its legs beneath it as it started to accelerate forward. Before he knew it, Rhynn was skimming above the treetops at several hundred miles per hour, nothing ahead for miles and miles.

The RF-31 was stable and smooth, and in the blue sky above him, Rhynn noticed three suns. One large, red sun, a second, smaller white sun that looked further away, and a third, golden sun on the far horizon.

He’d felt this way before, at the academy during real flight training after the simulators.

But this craft was capable of going much, much faster, Rhynn thought. He wanted to go as fast as this thing could go, and it did not disappoint. The throttle gauge on the HUD display read from 1/20th, rising to quickly fill the gauge as the massive thrust output shoved him back into his seat. The surge of power behind him, propelling him forward, it was like a tidal wave of energy filling in behind him as he broke the sound barrier, his speed increasing dramatically with every passing second. The feeling was epic, and he found himself starting to get tunnelvision as all but the horizon ahead disappeared beneath him. And then, off in the distance, he spotted it. A Macross, in its unmistakable Storm Attacker configuration, hovering above the surface. It was a first generation model, probably one of the first colony fleets to leave Earth.. his finding it was pretty miraculous… but, Kohler thought, this means that UN SPACY is here too. And they could probably find out about the confiscation of his pilot’s license. And they’d want to know what he was doing with this fighter, how he’d gotten it, where it had come from.

Well, at least he wasn’t totally lost. He had wondered what he’d do if he was completely lost.

As he considered opening a omm.. channel, he was interrupted by the brilliant, lightning quick flash of a rail gun screaming by his cockpit. Thankfully it missed, but a second later, the shockwave rattled the fighter. What the hell was that? He strained to see what had fired in the distance, and the plane’s optics zoomed in on the origin point. There it was. A modified Booby-Duck YF-1R screamed towards him, thrusters blazing behind it, railgun glinting in the sun. Those old things are still in service?? A number of blips appeared on a small readout on the lower right corner of the HUD. First the craft approaching him, and he detected a number of others approaching as well.

“Oh, hell no.” Kohler thought to himself. “I am not going to be shot down by a VF-1… let’s try the comm. channel first…”

He reached out for the section of the HUD marked RADIO, and it broadened and opened a small display window.

“This is Rhynn Kohler, test pilot of RF-31 LRF, come in Macross control, come in Macross control..” He waited for a reply, but as the booster-equipped VF-1’s raced towards him, he was again hailed with a barrage of rail gun fire.

“Well, I tried.” Activating the 31’s auxiliary boosters, his speed again doubled. He had exceeded atmospheric transformation speed. He raced head-on at the YF-1R, the plane’s pinpoint barrier system absorbing the rounds like throwing pebbles at a tank. As Rhynn and the opposing plane came within half a klick of each other, Rhynn focused on the opposing plane, time again slowed. Each gatling round floated by the cockpit like a feather in the wind, slowly meandering by. He knew just where he wanted to hit the enemy fighter. He imagined a few rounds piercing both of the old Valkyrie’s engines, and time began to speed up again (or at least, his perception of time) accelerated drastically as six clean, blue gunpod rounds decimated the YF-1R’s engines, sending it to the ground in an uncontrolled fall, the thrust nozzles spitting mangled chunks of turbofan from the exhaust, leaving a trail of thick black smoke as it plummeted. The pilot ejected a few seconds later and the Valkyrie exploded before hitting the ground.

Meh, he has a chance to live, Rhynn figured.

As three more VF-1 series approached, Rhynn again tried the comm. channel.

“COME IN MACROSS CONTROL. CEASE YOUR ATTACK NOW, I AM FRIENDLY! CEASE YOUR ATTACK NOW!”

The three approaching Valkyries attempted to follow the 31, firing a volley of no less than 50 missiles, each threatening to pluck Rhynn and his machine from the sky. He eyeballed the missiles and the turret lasers detonate the first few, the shrapnel setting off the rest. “Macross, your fighters leave me no choice but to retaliate!” He yelled, broadcasting on all known comm. channels. The missiles had him distracted long enough for one of the boosted VF-series to enter his proximity-warning zone. Rhynn turned his head to look behind him, just in time to catch a VF-1 shifting into Battroid mode, reaching out to grab his fighter.

Rhynn was pissed. He gritted his teeth, and wanted to rip that battroid’s arms off it. Rip its head off. Mutilate it. The RF-31 had slowed enough to be within transformation speed, and the plane effortlessly became a fearsome battroid. Its optics glowed red as Kohler’s battroid reached out, grabbed hold of the VF-1’s arm at the wrist and put his battroid’s other hand on the VF-1’s shoulder and tore the VF-1’s arm out of the socket with a horrifying grinding sound. Another VF-1 had gotten close and was emptying its gunpod at him. Rhynn hurled the battroid’s arm at the 2nd VF-1, destroying it completely, and then returned his attention to the battroid. The VF-1’s pilot had recovered from the shock and now attempted to punch the RF-31’s head. Kohler tore off its other arm, and then crushed the VF-1’s torso, using its own arm as a club. Kohler threw away the ruined VF-1 like so much garbage, transformed back into plane formation and kicked on the afterburners towards the Macross.

Just then a stern-looking, dark skinned, dark brown-haired woman flashed onto the radio display. “Enemy pilot, this is SDF-04 combat control, cease your attack NOW or we will shoot you down! Repeat, this is SDF-04 of the 117th Research Fleet, cease your attack now or we will shoot you down!”

Kohler’s rage subsided a bit. That sounded like a threat… from a woman… which he didn’t take too seriously, given the ease with which he dispatched a flight of plus-enhanced VF-1 fighters. However, Kohler figured it best not to attempt taking on a whole Macross fleet. “This is Rhynn Kohler, test pilot of the RF-31 fighter. Repeat, I am friendly. Your fighters forced me to defend myself.”

“Understood, RF-31. Luckily for you, all three pilots of the Valkyries you destroyed just radioed that they are alive… … Please land on flight deck six. You will now be given landing coordinates.”

A waypoint appeared on the HUD, and Kohler headed towards it.

What am I doing? I just probably killed three people. But that’s not my fault, they forced me to… but then, this could very easily be a trap.

But, there’s nothing else here, and if I just jam out, there’s nothing to eat or drink or sleep… shyze, I guess I don’t really have too much of a choice but to hope this isn’t a trap.

=====================================

That's all I have for now, I haven't thought out much else, and given how little we know about the events surrounding the 117th research fleet, I figured that would be a good place to put it, and then I can tie it in to the events of Frontier and Mac7.

Your feedback is much appreciated.

Mainly I'd just love to have somebody read what I write and see what I draw.

Best,

RF-26

[RF-26AAC]

lots of views and no feedback...

c'mon guys I really want to know what you think, negative or positive

[Kelsain]

I think it's nifty!

[badboy00z]

Try using something other than line paper.

[Gin]

Amazing drawings. The story itself isn't half bad either. I'm interested in more actually.

[RF-26AAC]

Amazing drawings. The story itself isn't half bad either. I'm interested in more actually.

The story or drawings?

the next bit of writing will somehow include the phrase "The last of the shells were spent. The gunpod clattered like the ratchet-teeth of a rollercoaster catching the lift to the top, the barrels' spin ceased." or something like that, I've been dying to use that effect.

I am going to do a series of drawings of the LRF on white paper, both fighter and battroid, now that I finalized the design and it doesn't look like absolute hell. I'm sorry about the lined paper but I only have a few sheets of clean white paper to work with.

-RF26

[Gin]

The story or drawings?

Both actually.

[Knight26]

Interesting design, but the cockpit is a little close to the nose for my tastes, looks to leave very little room for a radar, unless this thing is huge, but with no stated size it is hard to figure. As for the writing, I really tend to pass on fan fics, but I may give this a look when I get some time. Also get away from the line paper, if you need the lines for things like scaling, proportions, etc... then at least get some grid or engineering paper. I used to have some great grid paper where the grid lines did not show up on copies or scanner, maybe a little but not much.

[RF-26AAC]

Interesting design, but the cockpit is a little close to the nose for my tastes, looks to leave very little room for a radar, unless this thing is huge, but with no stated size it is hard to figure. As for the writing, I really tend to pass on fan fics, but I may give this a look when I get some time. Also get away from the line paper, if you need the lines for things like scaling, proportions, etc... then at least get some grid or engineering paper. I used to have some great grid paper where the grid lines did not show up on copies or scanner, maybe a little but not much.

Well, I'll see what I can do. I got a hold of a nice object drawing program, SanSerif DrawPlus 4.0, which does everything I was looking to do with appleworks/clarisworks draw.

Unfortunately the newest design is also cab forward, but then again I wasn't really thinking about radar when I designed it (oops)... mostly focused on engine, wings, armament and transformation aspects.

I'll see if I can put something up in the next few days.