The Gang of Five
Role Play => Random Role Play => Topic started by: Fyn16 on August 17, 2012, 02:18:30 AM
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I'm starting a new RP up entitled "Ace Combat: Frieben Rising." The story essentially takes place around the events affecting three countries in the AC universe: Frieben, the smallest but most economically powerful, Ardval, the largest, known for its strong military, and Remertia, a currently neutral country which lies between the others, and contains the Remertian Peace Embassy, where leaders of the three countries meet. Here's the briefing:
After Frieben is discovered to be a veritable treasure chest of natural resources, Ardval begins to mobilize troops on its borders. Both Frieben and Remertia suspect an imminent invasion, though Ardval's representatives deny this. Frieben finds itself under immense pressure to prepare a fighting force it does not have, as its military is weak. Under secrecy, Remertia begins deploying "peacekeeping" forces and supplying new weapons systems to strengthen Frieben's own military. Before long, Ardval finds out about Remertia's clandestine troop movements and makes a declaration: Remertia has two weeks to remove its forces from Frieben, or its actions will be considered as acts of war, and will be dealt with as such. The RP starts in the days leading up to Ardval's deadline. Tensions are high, weapons are readied-
And in all three nations, Air Forces are preparing for what they see as imminent war...
So, there's the story, now here's the deal: Each RP'er will designate a squadron and country of origin for their OCs. Squadrons can be as big or small as you wish. They also do not have to be affiliated with a government (i.e. Mercenaries). I would also recommend selecting specific aircraft for squadrons to operate.
This is not to say you have to be a pilot. Ground and naval forces are participating in the situation as well. Heck, even civilians can (and often do) play an important role in Ace Combat.
Most importantly, remember that as of now, there is no "wrong side" to choose. All nations have their own reasons for preparing for potential war. No one is more right than the other, and not everything is as it seems...
Now to select squadrons. When I feel we have enough players, the game will begin. Feel free to spread the word. The more, the merrier! Now choose your allegiances and prepare for battle!
In the tumult of battle, as warriors fight, who is truly noble? Is anyone right? Is anyone wrong? Only those courageous and pure of heart know the answer...
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I'll start.
Nation: Remertia
Squadron: 416th Counter-Threat Squadron- "Nightbirds"
Aircraft operated:
-OV-10S (a "what if" version of the OV-10 Bronco used by the US in the 60s)
-A-10 "Warthog"
-C-130 (multiple variants)
-YF-23 "Black Widow II,"
-YF-34 "Peregrine" (experimental aircraft, also fictional. I will have a picture soon).
-Panavia Tornado
-MiG 29 "Fulcrum"
Additional aircraft are occasionally "borrowed" by the squad for various purposes.
Notable Pilots:
Marcus Feisler (Nightbird 1)
Henrik Shadal (Nightbird 2)
Jade Sarelson (Nightbird 3)
Squad History: The 416th was formed as part of a contingency operation in the event of hostile action towards Remertia. The operation was essentially a "force strengthener," which placed several small, well-trained squadrons throughout the nation, tasked with performing clandestine "peacekeeping" missions in order to maintain Remertia's safety. The 416th is widely known for its skilled pilots, but much of its operations remain classified. During the weeks leading up to the Frieben Conflict, the 416th was put on alert and assigned the task of flying border watch.
Pictures of fictional or modified aircraft and squadron patch coming soon!
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As Jeff Foxworthy said, "You have my attention." And I wanna join!
I know someone else will mention this, that you may have to move this thread to RP Discussions.
However...I WANNA JOIN!!!
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And join you may! I moved the sign-up section to "RP Discussions," as you suggested. Thanks for the heads-up!
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Let's begin.
January 8, 2014. Ridley AFB, North Remertia...
Time: 2140
Marcus Feisler casually stepped out of his dark blue Mustang GT, crisply dressed in his standard Air Force service blue uniform, and headed for the Officer's club. Today had been a difficult day. He was up at 0430, at the squadron by 0600, and in the air before the sun was up, flying yet another border patrol sortie. He loved his job, of course, but it had its moments. Today had just been one such moment. His only high point today had been escorting some Friebenese teenager in a Cessna back over into his own border, and the only reason that had been fun was because the kid had been ogling his OV-10S "Silent Bronco" all the way back to the border.
Currently, Remertia's borders were on lockdown. Only natives could enter the country due to the recent tension between Remertia and its neighboring countries. Obviously, this tension meant a lot more flight time. Feisler wasn't entirely sure if a war was imminent, as some said, but he knew better than to rest on his haunches. If the Ardvalian military decided to launch an attack, the last thing he wanted was to be caught unawares, so every day he was called in to sortie, he did his best to approach his work with a professional mindset.
Now, however, it was time to relax. Marcus saw his flight mates, Henrik Shadal and Jade Sarelson, waiting for him at the club doors. Tonight, he would take a load off. He and his friends had earned it.
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Deleted.
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Kingsly Field was the name of this run-down speck on the map, located fifty miles within the Friebenese border. It was a surprisingly big airbase considering the state of the country's military, boasting two runways and several large, spacious hangars that looked like they were built in the 1930s to house old bombers.
At present, Danial Garret was busy working on his aircraft, an F-8 Crusader with silver paint and orange trim on the leading edges of the wings and tail surfaces. When he had heard that they would be using such relics that likely belonged in a museum rather than at an active base, he was expecting run-down pieces of junk. Surprisingly though, despite the age of these planes, the Friebenese military had done a good job of keeping them well maintained.
Danial was making a few slight adjustments to the aircraft's engine to make it run a bit more smoothly. The squadron had only recently arrived at the base and the had only test flown the crusaders. The other aircraft they had access to were out of service for maintenance, save for the Su-25 Frogfoots that were to serve as their ground attack planes.
Danial replaced the panel over the the part of the engine he was working on and picked up an impact wrench, tightening down the bolts.
"Still working on the planes I see!" said a voice from behind him. Danial turned around and saw Max Renolds standing there.
"Yeah, I just want to make sure this old dinosaur is in good condition in case we have to go into combat." Danial replied, packing up his tools.
Max snorted with laughter. "I don't care what you do to it. That thing is from the 60's for crying out loud! The guys up top assign us the worst planes they can find because we're just expendable mercenaries."
"That's not true and you know it." Danial retorted, locking his tools in a locker and wiping the grease off his hands with a rag.
"I looked in the hangar where those other guys keep their planes. They've got Typhoons and all we've got are these museum pieces." Max remarked.
"You mean those Belkan guys?"
"Yeah, them." Max nodded. "I hear Belkans don't like mercenaries like us either."
Danial put on his leather bomber jacket and climbed into a jeep that was parked next to the hangar. "I heard they have a pretty impressive combat record though. I'd like to see em in action."
Max sat in the passenger seat and Danial started the jeep, driving toward the base's officer's club. The officer's club was a two story building right next door to the barracks. There were few officers on base though aside from the base staff and the other squadron stationed here, and the building was never crowded.
Danial parked in front of the club next to a couple other jeeps. "Alright, let's go get a drink."
"I'm with you on that." Max said in agreement.
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Marcus pulled into the driveway of his bland base house, revving his car's engine much to the amusement of his passenger, Henrik Shadal.
"Yeah, your car sounds alright," he said with a grin, "but you shoulda gone for the Challenger."
"That porker?" Marcus snorted. "Heck no. This is a man's car." He opened the door and proceeded to unpack two wine bottles from the trunk. At the O-club, he'd been informed that as of tomorrow, he'd be on a five day leave period. Time to celebrate.
"Whatever you say, sir," Shadal said. Marcus opened his front door and proceeded directly to his small living room, where he and Henrik collapsed onto the couch.
"So what do you think about this whole 'Ardval' deal?" Henrik asked finally.
Marcus shook his head. "I honestly don't know. The way things have been going so far, its pretty obvious to me that they want to take Frieben's resources by force, and they want us out of there so we're not a threat. I know the brass is trying to negotiate, but who knows what's going to happen? I'm just gonna take the days as they come."
Henrik nodded. "Sounds like a plan to me." He reached over and poured himself a glass of wine, Osean Red, the best. "Hey, by the way," he said, "I heard Training Command's still looking for instructors for tomorrow."
Marcus shrugged. "So?"
"So there's an open spot. And tomorrow's lesson is low-level offensive maneuvers."
"You're kidding," Marcus said, suddenly interested.
"I am not. I know you love those things to death, so if you're interested, you ought to come on down to the airfield and give it a try."
"Definitely," Marcus said. "Did they mention what they're training in?"
"AT-6s," Henrik confirmed. Marcus grinned fiendishly. He'd flown the T-6, the trainer version of the light turboprop aircraft, during flight training, and the plane had fit him like a new suit. AT-6s were even better- combat-ready versions that sported wing-mounted weapons and external fuel tanks. They lived up to their looks. Marcus was more than excited.
"AT-6s you say," he said slowly, pouring himself some wine and raising his glass, "I think we can toast to that."
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Deleted.
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Dawn rose over Ridley Airfield, as Marcus stepped onto the flight line in his olive green flight suit. His "ride" for the day was dead ahead. It was hard to miss the craft's sleek lines and striking camouflage scheme. Green hash marks on the tail and wingtips denoted this aircraft as an instructor's plane. Marcus climbed up into the cockpit, saluting the crew chief on his way, and began to go through his preflight checklist.
As he began adjusting the fuel mixture, someone knocked on the side of his plane. He looked down to see 1st. Lieutenant Jade Sarelson standing next to the plane with a huge grin.
"So I guess Shadal convinced you to come?"
"That he did. I'm looking forward to this."
"You should, sir. I'm going to be your wingman."
"Those instructees don't stand a chance," Marcus said, shaking his head with a smile.
"I'll see you up there," Jade said, walking away towards her plane.
"You got it," said Marcus, returning to his checklist. When he was done, he started the engine. He loved the whine of the turboprop slowly spooling up, and when the roar of the propeller kicked in- nothing came close. He donned his helmet and prepared to taxi, keeping his canopy open.
"Tower, this is Toaster 1," he said over the radio, identifying himself by the humorous nickname now standard for all low-level combat instructors. Trainees referred to these exercises as "The Toaster," because no one seemed to make it out without getting grilled at least once.
"Toaster 1, this is Tower, go ahead."
"Toaster 1 requests clearance for takeoff."
The air traffic-control tower was silent for a moment, presumably as those inside were checking their instruments.
"Roger, Toaster 1. Rendezvous with the flight over Swallowtail Canyon for training."
"Roger," said Marcus, pulling his canopy down, "Toaster 1 out."
The AT-6 lumbered onto the runway, loaded with dummy weapons. It looked formidable for such a small plane, and that was exactly what Marcus was going for. He put the throttle forward and felt the plane smoothly begin accelerating. At the proper speed, he pulled the nose up slightly and retracted his gear, still hugging the ground at about 50 feet above the runway. Then, just before the runway's edge, he pulled up sharply and banked left, heading for the training zone. Today was going to be a lot of fun...
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Danial entered the officer's club and took a look around. Like the rest of the base, it was run down and in need of a good overhaul. There were a few pictures and a television mounted on the wall. A pair of ceiling fans turned slowly overhead and music played on a radio by the bar counter.
There were a few other pilots sitting at a table at the far end of the room. Danial and Max ignored them though and placed an order for plain, simple beer at the bar.
Taking their drinks, the pilots sat down at an unoccupied table.
So, from what I've heard, they're gonna have us joining the other guys for a patrol sortie along the border tomorrow at 0600." Danial explained to Max.
"You mean the Belkans?" Max replied.
"Yeah." Danial nodded.
Max leaned forward and whispered, "I'm not sure I trust those guys."
"Neither do I. We're gonna do as we're told though."
"Supposedly they were involved in that war a few years back. Ya know, the one with Osea?" Max said. "Wasn't their squadron the one that tried to crash that satellite?"
"Yeah, I heard about that. That doesn't mean they personally took part in that operation though. I heard those guys all died." Danial replied, taking a sip of beer.
Danial honestly didn't care for the situation. That kind of espionage was the exact reason he'd left the Erusean military.
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At that point, a tall man with jet-black hair wearing a dark blue flight suit walked over and joined them.
"Greetings," he said, his voice tainted by a slight accent. "I'm Ceasar Hyerich. I'm with the 396th."
Hyerich took a seat on a chair next to Danial and signaled the bartender to come by. Ceasar deposited a few crisp bills in her hand.
"A few drinks for my comrades and myself," he said with an unnerving smile. It was a smile that seemed to communicate an aura of distrust, and in those pearly white teeth, one could almost see the reflection of their death, as if looking into some mysterious mirror. This was indeed a dangerous man.
"So, now you know my name," Hyerich said to the silent pilots seated next to him, "what's yours?"
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Danial sized the newcomer up as he introduced himself. Definitely Belkan... he thought to himself.
"I'm Danial Garret with the 15th Squadron. This is my wingman, Max Renolds."
Max added, "We have a third member, but he seems to be away at the moment."
Danial could tell this man did not trust him, and the feeling was mutual. Still, there was no point in starting trouble.
"So, I hear we're scheduled to fly a patrol together in the morning." Danial said casually.
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Hyerich smiled again.
"Yes, I believe my squadron will be flying tomorrow's patrol... with escorts, of course. We're glad you could join us."
Hyerich stood up before either of his tablemates could say anything more.
"Gentlemen," he said, the spite in his voice obvious, "I will see you tomorrow at 0600. Try to keep up."
And with that, he left. Hyerich was known for his hatred of mercenary forces. Some said he'd suffered defeat at the hands of such forces before, but no one could prove anything. If nothing else, however, his arrogance and ego were legendary. Perhaps the mercenaries were right not to trust him, perhaps not. Only in battle could such truths come to light.
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As Hyerich departed, Max said with a smile, "Alright, good night."
Max didn't outwardly show that these smug snakes were getting on his nerves.
Danial finished his drink and said, "Well I think we'd best be off to bed. It's gonna be a busy day tomorrow."
Without another word, he and Max departed the officer's club. As they drove back to their assigned barracks, Max growled, "Can you believe those guys? They're so full of themselves..."
"Don't let them get to you, Max. We've got more important things to worry about than some overconfident fools."
Arriving back at their barracks, they found Thomas Freeman lying on a cot and staring blankly up at the ceiling.
"Oh, you're back." he said flatly.
"Yeah, we were having a chat with some "new friends"." Danial replied, sitting down on his own cot.
"I'm bored." Thomas said in the same flat monotone. "I with something would happen."
"Get some sleep." Danial said. "We're taking off at 0600 tomorrow for a patrol mission.
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The following morning, Danial was inspecting his plane and preparing for the mission. He was wearing an ash grey flight suit which his squadron had been issued. After inspecting his plane, Danial climbed the ladder to the cockpit of his F-8 Crusader. After strapping himself into the seat, he put on his helmet, which had a logo of a gryphon with its talons bared. Once the ground crew gave him the all clear, Danial closed the canopy and started the engine. His wingmen followed suit.
The morning sky was still dark and Danial had to turn on the panel lights to see.
"Whirlwind 1, this is the control tower, do you read?"
"Copy that. Whirlwind squadron requesting immediate takeoff clearance." Danial responded, going over his instruments one last time.
"This is the tower, you are cleared for takeoff on Runway 2."
After acknowledging his takeoff clearance, Danial taxied to the runway with his two wingmen following.
"Whirlwind squadron, after takeoff, hold above the field for Gheist Squadron to join you." said the air traffic controller.
"Understood." Danial replied.
Reaching the runway, he pushed the throttle lever forward, sending his jet roaring down the runway. Reaching takeoff speed, he pulled back on the stick and the F-8 lifted off. Danial quickly retracted his landing gear and climbed to 2000 feet, circling the field as instructed. His wingmen formed up behind him.
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"Hello again, mercenaries," a voice called over the radio. From out of nowhere, four Typhoons and a sleek Boeing Bird of Prey, painted in grey digital camo with red markings appeared. It was Gheist. On time and aggravating as ever.
"Follow us," Hyerich said over the airwaves. Without waiting for a response, he rolled once, then turned to the proper heading, straight for the border, vapor trails streaming off of his wings.
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Swallowtail Canyon, Northern Remertia
0530 hours
January 9, 2014.
Mission 1: First Impressions
Marcus Feisler, callsign "Spade" was flying wingtip-to-wingtip with Jade Sarelson, callsign "Angel" over Remertia's famous Swallowtail Canyon, leading a flight of four AT-6s. The sun's light was making an appearance in the distance, but it had not risen yet. This was the perfect time to begin training.
Swallowtail Canyon was a natural formation which stretched for almost fifty miles. The Remertian Air Force commonly used this area for practice because of its excellent terrain-masking qualities. Flying the canyon was a true test of a pilot's skills. Flying it while being chased by an instructor simulating an enemy was insane, but that was what Feisler was about to do.
"Angel, this is Spade, do you read?"
"Spade, Angel. I read."
"I'm going to talk to the rookies and get this started. Take position."
"Roger, Spade," Sarelson said, banking her plane sharply to the left and leaving the formation, following the canyon below. Seeing her go, Feisler switched radio frequencies to communicate with the trainees.
"Listen up," he said, "today's task is simple. Each of you in turn will fly Swallowtail Canyon, below me. I'll be chasing you. Now normally, these aren't air-to-air planes, but mine has a device that simulates a fighter's homing radar. If at any point I achieve missile lock on you, you are considered 'hit.' After three hits, you're gone. Pull out and head back to base. I'll brief you there. Don't get hit. Mamba 1, you're first. you get a ten-second head start, then I come for you. Go!"
The first AT-6 peeled away, diving for the canyon. Feisler waited ten seconds, then followed, prop screaming as he dove towards the earth. The rookie was entering the canyon now, but Feisler was right on him. Then they were in, below the ground's surface, jinking left and right to avoid the canyon's many obstacles. Feisler achieved missile lock the first time with ease. Then the rookie became more careful, employing swifter maneuvers and trying to stay low. The canyon thinned out shortly, leaving less room to maneuver, and Feisler could tell by the rookie's flying that he was getting nervous. Suddenly, the AT-6 pulled up, out of the canyon, and Feisler followed.
"I'm sorry, sir," the rookie said over the radio, "I wasn't ready."
"Next," was Feisler's only response.
The pilot that followed was outstanding, barely clearing the canyon's floor, rolling, and using every trick in the book. Feisler was having a hard time keeping up. By the time they made it to the last rookie's quitting point, he still hadn't achieved missile lock. This trainee was good. As the gap between walls continued to close, he pursued the pilot, still attempting a lock. Then Sarelson was there, waiting at the ambush point, also pursuing. Neither of the two could get a lock. Then the canyon ended abruptly. The pilot had made it.
"Congrats," Feisler said, amazed, "what's your name?"
"2nd Lieutenant Christine Ayel, sir," the rookie responded.
"I'll remember that," Feisler said with pride. Just then his radio sounded. He switched to the proper frequency. It was Ridley AFB.
"Ridley, this is Spade, go ahead."
"Spade, you and your training flight are being diverted."
"Diverted? Why?" By now, Sarelson had pulled up next to his aircraft. She'd put up her visor and was now mouthing "what's going on?" at him through her canopy. Feisler acknowledged her with a shrug, and she rolled her eyes and banked away towards the trainees.
"We have detected an unidentified aircraft on a course which will put it over our borders soon. Intercept this aircraft."
"But we're unarmed!"
"It doesn't matter. It looks to be a large aircraft, and your dummy weapons should suffice for a show of force."
Feisler groaned inwardly. This was really stretching his patience. "Alright, then. What's my heading?"
"Vector 285. Good luck."
"Thanks, Spade out." Feisler radioed the rest of the flight with the information and changed course, now on an intercept path in an unarmed turboprop. This was going to be interesting...
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Danial and his squadron followed after Hyerich, resisting the urge to just switch off the radio.
"Well, if it isn't our adoring fanboy squad!" Freeman said sarcastically over the radio.
"Shut up, Manticore!" Danial ordered sharply, using Thomas's callsign.
"Alright alright!" Freeman snap.
Danial did not bother offering an apology for his comrade's behavior. He just continued following Hyerich. They reached the border and began their patrol mission as scheduled.
The patrol was only supposed to last three hours thankfully. Danial hoped it would go by fast, otherwise it was going to be a long mission having to listen to Hyerich's smug douchebaggery the whole time.
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"There you are, ya little bugger," Feisler said as the sun began to rise, revealing the silhouette of a lone aircraft ahead.
"Contact with unidentified aircraft," Feisler radioed to the rest of the flight, "let's get closer and ID it."
The AT-6s pulled in closer. Finally, it was Lieutenant Ayel, the pilot whom Feisler had recently congratulated, who spoke first.
"Spade, I identify aircraft as one TU-95 "Bear" bomber. Markings look to be Ardvalian."
"Ardvalian?" Feisler asked, "are you sure? I didn't think they still operated '95s."
"Yes sir, the marks are definitely Ardvalian."
"Roger. Bring it in closer, but watch out for the tail gun." The aircraft formed up on each side of the bomber. They had the pilot's attention now.
"Ardvalian bomber, state your mission or turn around immediately. You are in restricted airspace," Feisler said, attempting to hail the bomber. He received no response.
"Ardvalian bomber, do you copy?"
A movement on his radar screen caught Feisler's eye. Eight blips had suddenly appeared, heading in their direction.
"Mamba Flight and Angel, I'm picking up eight additional aircraft headed this way. Stand by."
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"Well well," Hyerich said, checking his radar, "look what we have here. All planes, intercept unidentified aircraft. Do not fire unless I say so."
The eight jets changed course, heading for the disturbance, some pilots hoping for action, others wishing for a peaceful encounter.
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"Understood." Danial said flatly, following after the Gheist squadron.
His plane was packing a compliment of eight AIM-9 Sidewinder missiles, courtesy of the modifications the Friebenese military had made to these old planes. He also had four fully loaded cannons. Making sure everything was functioning properly, Danial increased speed to keep up with the Typhoons.
"What do you think is going on, captain?" Max asked.
"Who cares? I'm ready for some action!" Thomas said, his trigger finger feeling more itchy than usual.
"Alright, Whirlwind Flight, stay alert. We're approaching the contact point." Danial instructed.
He already had visual contact with the unidentified aircraft, but it was still too far out to tell what kind of plane or which nationality it was.
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Feisler sighed in relief when he saw who the approaching planes were.
"Mamba flight and Angel, approaching aircraft are Friebenese. I say again, friendlies approaching."
Marcus broke away from the others and headed for the incoming aircraft.
"Friebenese aircraft, what is your mission?"
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Hyerich practically punched a hole through his instrument panel when he heard the voice on the radio: Remertian. Damn. He'd been hoping to add to his kills today. These ones were flying AT-6s, too. What were they doing out here? He brought his fighter in next to the lead plane, which had just broken formation to meet him, and radioed the pilot.
"This is Gheist and Whirlwind squadron. We're on a routine patrol. Why are you escorting this Ardvalian aircraft?"
In a moment, he got his response.
"This aircraft violated Remertian airspace. This is a Remertian matter and will be resolved as such. Please leave our airspace immediately."
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"Whirlwind Squadron, weapons safe." Danial ordered.
He wasn't looking for a fight anyway. They got paid a fee just for taking off so there'd be money waiting when they got back to base.
Free man was clearly not pleased to find out that the aircraft were friendly, and it appeared their Belkan friends weren't either.
"The Ardvalians are playing games, trying to see what they can get away with. Let these guys deal with it. We're returning to our patrol."
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Hyerich was about to order his flight to turn around, when something appeared out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look harder and saw it: a lone object streaking down from out of the sky and headed for them. From its shape, he could easily tell that it was a missile.
And they were the targets.
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Feisler watched the falling projectile with horror, then radioed his team.
"Mamba, Angel! All planes evade!"
Feisler rolled towards the ground as the missile performed its trick. From its body, ten smaller missiles were released, each one homed in on a different aircraft. Their vapor trails splayed outwards like a blooming flower as they homed in on their targets.
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Deleted.
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Feisler knew the only chance he had was his aircraft's maneuverability. He rolled, dived, did whatever he could to shake the warhead that was locked onto his tail. Finally, he confused it with a split-s maneuver, watching in relief as the deadly missile ripped past, disengaging. Now he could observe his surroundings better.
Most of his team had avoided being targeted by the missiles. It was the Friebenese planes that were having the most difficult time. The Typhoons were trying to use team tactics, flying in close proximity and maneuvering around each other to confuse the missiles, while the Bird of Prey simply used its superior maneuverability to evade his pursuing missile in one turn.
What really impressed Feisler, however, was the orange-marked F-8 and its squad. Their flying was perfection itself, and the missiles were no trouble. The strange attack, it seemed, would be over soon without casualties. Then, he heard an explosion nearby. What followed was pieced together later on by Feisler based on what he saw and the testimony of others in his flight.
Only one member of the Mamba training flight was locked onto by a missile: Lieutenant Ayel. She reacted immediately, pulling away from her squadmates with the missile pursuing. As before, her maneuvers were top notch. She was having no trouble keeping the missile at bay, until her moment came; the moment in a person's life when he or she must choose between saving themselves and possibly risking someone else's life or personally accepting one hundred percent of the risk.
Ayel rolled once, to confuse the warhead, and realized her error: flying her current course evasively would bring her right over Mamba flight, running the risk of forcing the missile to accept a new target. If she chose not to evade the missile, her flight would be spared. Ayel chose the latter option without hesitation. The missile detonated alongside her aircraft, peppering it with shrapnel and shredding its right wing. The explosion produced a small shockwave which tossed the small plane out of control, sending it tumbling. At the same time, all aircraft in the vicinity experienced a small EMP surge, which played havoc with their systems. Now, Feisler's attention was had, and he saw what was happening.
"Ayel!" he cried, diving towards her craft. Amazingly, despite the damage, the Lieutenant managed to stabilize her aircraft. Feisler pulled up alongside her, and could see that her aircraft was getting steadily worse. Her shredded right wing had caught fire, and was now leaking fuel.
"Ayel, give me a sitrep!" he said over the radio. Ayel's voice came back, full of static interference.
"This is... Mamba 2. Blast... shorted... systems. I can't do much. Controls... manual."
"Can you eject?"
"Negative," she said after a few moments. "That's busted, too."
"No," Feisler whispered, then had another idea.
"Mamba 2, manually detach your canopy and parachute and get out of there."
"I'll try, sir."
Feisler watched as the pilot next to him stood up and released the parachute from the back of her seat. The fire was spreading now, and it was close to the fuselage. She didn't have much time. She was at the canopy now, good. She disengaged the clamps and tried to lift. Something was wrong, however. Lieutenant Ayel saw it as soon as she turned around. A piece of shrapnel was jamming one of the releases. She sat down again, calmly.
"Not much I can do sir, sorry." Her voice came over the radio again, clear now. Feisler felt a tear forming in one eye.
"Ayel, Christine- is there anything I can do?"
"No sir, don't worry about it. Just get my friends back home safely, alright?"
"I will," Feisler said, "I swear to you I will."
"Goodbye then, sir," Ayel said, "Mamba 2 out."
She dipped her wings in a salute, then pulled sharply upward. As soon as she went vertical, her AT-6 exploded, breaking apart in a tremendous fireball as the flames reached her fuselage's fuel tanks. She died instantly.
"Dammit," Feisler whispered, "who did this?"
Then the TU-95 next to them exploded.
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Captain Franz Heibald, one of the Gheist pilots, shook off his missile quickly. When he saw what happened to the Remertian pilot, he felt he had no other option. He quickly flipped the safety off his "commit" button on his control stick, lined up perfectly, and sent an AIM-7 Sparrow missile right up the TU-95's rear. The bomber exploded in a fiery flash.
"What the hell was that for?" Hyerich's voice came over the radio.
"They shot at us!" Heibald said.
"We don't even know who shot at us!" Hyerich responded. "Do you realize what you've done? Gheist, return to base!"
The five aircraft turned around, heading for the base, leaving the remnants of the Remertian squadron and the three mercenaries alone in the sky.
-
Danial's missile alarm suddenly screamed in his ear. "What the hell!" he shouted, glancing at the warning light panel, indicating that a heatseeker was inbound. Reacting instinctively, Danial mashed the countermeasure button and cut the throttle, banking hard to the right. Three flares shot from the flare dispenser on his aircraft. The missile whizzed past and the last Danial saw of it, the missile was streaking downward toward the forested terrain down below.
Max and Freeman followed suit, dodging the missiles with relative ease. The three mercenaries rejoined formation and loud, sudden boom caught their attention. One of the Remertian planes had been hit. Almost immediately, everyone's electronic system went haywire.
"What the hell happened?" Max asked, perplexed.
"Obviously someone's shooting at us!" Freeman shouted.
Danial noticed that the Remertian plane that had been his was on fire. The pilot seemed unable to bail out for some reason. Then the small trainer aircraft exploded.
"Damn..." Danial muttered.
The next thing he knew, the TU-95 exploded when one of the Gheist pilots fired a missile at it.
"Captain, we didn't have clearance to engage, did we?" asked Max.
"Negative, Lieutenant." Danial responded, still trying to make sense out of what had just happened. Obviously the missile attack didn't come from that bomber.
"So what now?" Freeman asked.
"I suppose we.." Danial started to say. He trailed off when he noticed multiple contacts on the outer edge of his radar coverage. "Hey, is anyone else picking up these contacts or is my radar just bring stupid?"
"I'm picking them up too, Captain!" Max replied. "IFF identifies them as Mig-31 Foxhound interceptors, country of origin unknown. I count six aircraft in the group."
Danial promptly contacted the Remertian squadron. "Remertian squadron, our radars are picking up multiple Mig-31 Foxhounds closing in at high speed. Their nation of origin is unknown. Do you know if they're yours or not?"
Gheist Squadron was already bugging out and returning to base, leaving the Whirlwind Squadron behind.
"If they turn out to be hostile, we're on our own." Max said.
"Foxhounds fly like a cinder block, Renolds. Our planes can fly circles around them." Danial replied, keeping an eye on his radar.
-
Deleted.
-
"Frieben aircraft," Feisler responded over the radio, "we are unarmed and low on fuel, can you provide an escort for us to Ridley Air Force Base?"
He could already see the MiGs approaching from Ardval. They would be here in seconds. He had to act fast. While waiting for a reply from the Frieben mercenaries, he dove for the ground, radioing his flight.
"All planes hit the deck. Stay below 500 feet AGL so we can evade the approaching interceptors. This is just like today's training, so I know you can do this. Let's go!"
-
"Copy that. We'll cover you while you make a break for it!" Danial replied. He already had visual on the approaching Migs. With his electrical system damaged by the EMP, he ran a quick diagnostic check to see which systems were still functional and which ones were not. Several red lights lit up on the warning panel but thankfully all the critical systems were still functional, as were the targeting computer and weapons.
"Whirlwind Squadron, pick a target and engage at will!" Danial ordered, turning his plane to confront the oncoming Mig-31s.
The IR missile alarm screamed as one of the Migs fired. Danial mashed the countermeasure button and rolled to the side. A shining ball dropped from the chaff dispenser on his plane and exploded into a cloud of shiny particles, blinding the missile's radar. Locking a Sidewinder onto the Mig that had fired, Danial shouted, "Whirlwind 1, Fox 2!"
The missile dropped from the fuselage pylon and streaked toward the oncoming fighter. The Mig released flares and tried to evade but it was too late. The missile struck the plane's wind, blowing the wing clean off and sending the crippled fighter spiraling out of control. Dan spotted the canopy blowing and two ejection seats shooting from the cockpit.
Another Mig-31 was flying at him head on. Danial quickly switched to guns and banked left, roaring past the as the Mig attempted to nail him with its gun. He spun his Crusader around, leveling off behind the Ardvalian fighter and lining it up in his gun pipper.
Danial squeezed the trigger and the four cannons in the nose of his plane lit the target up, tearing into the rear fuselage and wings. An explosion tore the fighter in two and a second explosion destroyed it completely. Swerving around the debris sent everywhere by the exploding Mig, Danial looked for another Foxhound to engage.
Max, meanwhile slipped between two attacking Mig-31s and then looped over behind one of them, attempting to take it out with guns. Meanwhile the second Mig attempted to get behind him while he was preoccupied with the first. Out of nowhere, Freeman's Crusader dived down from above, spraying the pursuing Mig's cockpit area with bullets from his machine guns. The Mig-31 began to spiral toward the ground, it's air crew apparently dead while Thomas let out a victory whoop and turned to engage a second target. Now there were just three Migs and three crusaders in the fight.
Danial targeted another Mig-31 and easily evaded its attempts to lock on to him. He out turned the interceptor and locked onto it with a Sidewinder. Releasing the missile, he watched as it struck the tail of the plane, blowing the entire back end off the fighter. The two crew members promptly ejected.
The remaining two Migs turned ant tried to retreat. Thomas, not satisfied with just one kill, punched the throttle and gave chase.
"No! There is no escape, cowards! You will die here today!" he shouted over the radio as he lit the afterburner, trying to get a missile lock one one of the fleeing interceptors.
Danial glanced at the radar and spotted several more contacts approaching.
"Manticore, Bonehead, we've got more company!" He shouted.
Max confirmed this. "IFF identifies them as F-15Cs. I count... ten of them!"
"Dammit!" Danial shouted. "Remertian aircraft, be advised! We have ten additional fighters inbound and closing fast!"
-
Feisler and his flight were skimming along at near brush-top level, trying to avoid radar detection when the call came through. Feisler growled when he heard the news. If his plane had been armed, fighter or not, he would have given his all to avenge Lieutenant Ayel, to hell with the Rules of Engagement. As it was, all he could do was keep flying.
"Spade, this is Ridley Air Force Base, do you read?"
Feisler let out a joyous whoop. This was his chance for a safe passage, and a chance for their mercenary friends to take a break.
"Ridley, this is Spade. I read."
"Spade, Paulsen AFB just scrambled four F-14s with long-range missiles to assist you. They'll be approaching from vector 157 at 1000 feet. Can you hold out for two minutes?"
"That won't be a problem," Feisler confirmed, "much appreciated. Spade out."
"Any information?" Sarelson called, cruising over a small hilltop.
"We've got F-15s coming right up our butts, but Paulsen just sent a few '14s our way. Hopefully we can end this soon. Stay below 1000 feet."
"Roger."
Feisler looked back through his canopy at the "squirrel cage" above him, giving a silent "thank you" to the mercenaries. Whoever said there was no honor among them? They'd already engaged the F-15s, and were doing so marvelously. Then Feisler remembered his own backup, and radioed the F-8s.
"Mercenary squadron, disengage. Long range missiles inbound."
Sure enough, several small, white streaks appeared on the horizon. He couldn't see the planes yet, but that was typical. F-14s could launch the famous AIM-54 "Phoenix" missile. They were probably about sixty or so miles away. The missiles roared overhead, targeting the enemy F-15s. Feisler felt he'd never seen a sweeter sight in his life.
-
Danial and his squadron turned to engage the incoming F-15s. Freeman roared on ahead, targeting a fighter and unleashing a Sidewinder. The F-15 released flares and evaded the missile, firing its gun at him. Freeman evaded but took several hits to his vertical stabilizer. The plane roared past him and he banked hard, locking a second missile and firing again, this time obliterating the fighter in a spectacular explosion.
Danial lined dodged past one of the F-15s and climbed vertically. The enemy fighter turned around and began to chase him, but Danial cut the throttle and deployed the air breaks, stalling and nosing over as the enemy fighter kept on climbing. He retracted the air break and punched the throttle again, regaining control of his plane.
The Remertian flight lead suddenly contacted him and ordered them to disengage since reinforcements were coming to their aid.
"Whirlwind Squadron, disengage from combat and return to base! Reinforcements are here." Danial ordered.
"Roger." Max replied, forming up on his right wing.
Freeman grumbled about not scoring enough kills and formed up on his left wing. The Crusaders departed the area as the Remertian F-14s arrived.
"What the hell was all that about?" Max asked.
"Something tells me we can forget about more peace negotiations." Danial replied.
Arriving back at the base, they were greeted by the air traffic controller.
"Whirlwing 1, you are cleared to land, Runway 2."
"Roger that. Cleared to land, runway 2" Danial repeated. He lowered his landing gear and lined himself up with the runway, extending his flaps. His fighter touched down on the runway and Danial slowed down to taxiing speed, turning off the runway and onto the taxiway. After reaching the hangar, he shut down the engine and extended the plane's ladder. Max and Thomas taxied to a stop next to him. Danial climbed down from the cockpit and removed his helmet, feeling the late afternoon sun on his face.
"Alright, guys, let's head to the briefing room and find out what the hell is going on." Danial said.
He somehow doubted there would be good news. Entering the briefing room, they found the pilots from Gheist squadron already there.
-
Hyerich had a smug grin on his face.
"So you three mercenaries actually stayed and helped the Remertians?"
He began to chuckle, and then laughed uproariously. "I can't believe how idiotic you people are! Live to fight another day! Those Ardvalians would have been more than happy to pick off the AT-6s. They weren't our friends. I didn't know any of them personally."
He reclined in his chair. "I will never understand you people."
-
"Like we should care." Freeman spat.
Danial snorted with laughter at Hyerich's crass comment. "You shoulda stayed. It's a shame you missed the party!"
"Yeah, we bagged five kills!" Max added.
At that moment, a man in full military uniform entered the room. They recognized him as Colonel Cass, the base commander.
"Gentlemen, your attention please!" he said. "During the course of your mission, the Federal Republic of Ardval declared a state of war against the Federation of Remertia and the Principality of Frieben. They simultaneously launched a ground and air offensive into Remertia. We fear than an invasion of Frieben is also imminent."
The base commander paused and looked at each of the men in the room as he spoke.
"As such, we are now on high alert. Each of you must be combat ready at a moment's notice. Our base is close to the border which makes us a prime target for the enemy. Our government has declared that we will ally ourselves with the Remertian military, and in the coming days you will take part in operations within Remertia to help repel the invasion. Should Remertia fall, the Ardvalians will be able to invade our nation unopposed. I will inform you of more updates on the situation as they become available. Until then, you are dismissed."
The colonel left the room.
"Wonderful..." Danial muttered as he stood up to leave.
-
"Hey,"
Danial turned around. Hyerich was pointing a finger at him and glaring.
"I'd suggest you get your comrade to watch his mouth, or my trigger finger might accidentally slip next time we're together."
With that, Hyerich turned smartly and walked out of the room. After a moment, Danial and his friends left as well, completely unphased by the pompous Belkan. They'd seen plenty like him before, and they never seemed to last long once combat really started.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Feisler stepped out of his aircraft, it seemed the whole base was waiting for him. Clouds blocked the sun's light, and rain drizzled, reflecting his current state of mind. He'd lost a good pilot, and war had almost certainly started. He ignored the few members of the press who were gathered around, hoping for some information on the day's events, and went straight for Lieutenant Sarelson and the remaining students. They met up near Sarelson's plane.
"Follow me," Feisler said softly, heading for the briefing room.
When they arrived, Feisler ordered everyone to take seats, and passed out beer. Shortly, Colonel Marius Olson, the base commander, arrived. Feisler called the room to attention, and the Colonel quickly put everyone at ease and in their seats.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it's good to have you back. Unfortunately, our situation right now is not going to get much worse. Whatever happened up there was the spark in the powder keg. Ardval has formally declared war on us. I want you to explain what happened."
Feisler stood. "I can explain, sir. We found a Tupolev TU-95 with Ardvalian markings on our side of the border. We attempted to escort it, but were fired upon by an unknown enemy. I've never seen the like of the missile that was shot at us, but it had multiple, homing warheads that produced a shockwave and EMP burst when detonated. We suffered one casualty: Lieutenant Ayel. Her aircraft was destroyed as a result of the blast."
"Did she escape?"
"No," Feisler said. "At that point, a member from one of the Friebenese squadrons who had also intercepted the bomber destroyed it. Shortly, we had Ardvalian fighters coming after us. The Friebenese took care of them with the help of Paulsen's F-14s. We used that opportunity to return to base."
"So you still don't know who fired on you?"
"No, sir."
"Strange," the Colonel mused. "I want you and Lieutenant Sarelson back here tomorrow. I have a feeling you'll be needed."
"Yes sir."
"That's all. Dismissed."
As Feisler started to walk out the door, Colonel Olson caught his arm.
"Marcus, is anything wrong?"
Marcus sighed. "It's the first time I've lost a fellow flyer in combat."
"I know the feeling. Ayel was a good pilot. Listen, if there's anything you need-"
"I'll definitely let you know, sir."
The Colonel nodded. "Get some rest, then." Feisler saluted him crisply and walked away.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Feisler met 1st Lieutenant Henrik Shadal outside.
"Hey, if it isn't Spade! What's up, my man? Hey, they just brought in a new plane. I've got no idea what it is, but they've got it in a hangar under a tarp. Wanna check it out?"
Feisler smiled, his first in a while. "Sure, why not?"
As they walked towards the hangar, Feisler briefed Shadal on what had happened that day. He was just detailing the attack when they entered the hangar. In the center was a long, sleek form covered by a black tarp bearing the Federation of Remertia's flag. Feisler whistled.
"I've never seen anything like that."
"Yeah," Shadal said, "a couple of guys are sayin' it's completely new. Never been put into operation before." He paused. "So what happened next?"
Marcus almost forgot about what he'd just been talking about. "We lost an aircraft when the missile exploded."
Shadal paled. "Who?"
"Christine Ayel."
Shadal's knees almost gave way, and he was whiter than a sheet. "No, that's not- but I was just-"
"Take it easy, man," Marcus said, helping his friend to a seat on the ground, "what's wrong?"
"Ayel, you said?" Marcus nodded.
"No... I was dating her. In fact, I was going to propose this week."
Marcus's gaze softened. "I'm so sorry, can I help at a-"
"Don't worry about it," Shadal said, standing up with a fire burning in his eyes, "those damn Ardvalians will pay for this. Every single one of them I shoot down will be for Ayel."
Feisler nodded. "Then it sounds like Nightbird Squadron's about to see some combat."
Shadal looked him squarely in the eyes and nodded, "and I'm looking forward to every minute of it."
-
"Can you believe that bastard?" Max asked. I can't believe he has the gall to threaten us like that."
"Let it go, Renolds." Danial replied. "They're not worth it. There's bound to be idiots no matter where we go."
Danial's cell phone rand and he removed it his pocket, looking at the number. It was Craig Oswald, the head aircraft mechanic at the base.
"You guys go on ahead. I'm gonna take this call." Danial said. "Hello?" he said, answering the phone.
"What the hell did you do to my airplanes?" shouted Oswald in more of a joking tone than an angry one.
"Well, we ran into some unexpected trouble up there." Danial replied.
"Well, I've got some bad news and some good news. Come on over to the hangar and I'll show you what I've got." said the mechanic.
"Alright, I'll be right over." Danial said, getting into his jeep. He drove over to the hangar where he was greeted by a chubby, dark skined middle-aged man dressed in yellow stained coveralls. He had grease all over his hands and face.
"Alright, bad news first." Danial said flatly.
"Well, the bad news is that your crusaders are going to be out of action until I can replace the damaged electronic systems." Oswals explained.
"And the good news?"
"The good news is that I've completed the upgrades you requested to the CF-105 Arrows." Oswald said with a smile. They walked over to one of the planes and Oswald explained, "I've mounted two machine guns on either side of the front landing gear."
The mechanic pointed to the two gun blisters on either side of the nose. "I've also made modifications for the plane to carry either six AIM-7 Sparrow missiles or eight AIM-9 Sidewinder missiles. I've added two pylons under the wingtips to accommodate the extra ordinance. Also, to compensate for the extra weight and increased drag, I've refitted the Arrows with General Electric F404 engines that will boost the aircraft's overall speed."
"Sounds good." Danial said, nodding with approval.
"I've also given you midair refueling capabilities and made some tweaks to the Arrow's avionics and radar equipment."
"Well it sounds good. Thanks, Craig." Danial said, leaving the hangar and getting back into his jeep. He still needed to pick up his money from their mission. He knew that his squadmates would be grateful for the modifications to their planes.
-
It was almost 2230 at night, and Captain Feisler was still sitting in the hangar with the mysterious, covered aircraft. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. Colonel Olson was right; he needed sleep.
The sound of the hangar door opening behind him startled Feisler. He turned around to see a middle-aged, balding man in a grey blazer enter the hangar. He was obviously surprised to see the pilot, but his face broke into a smile nonetheless.
"Hello sir," the man said, walking forward and extending his hand, "I'm Dr. Charles Johannes. What brings you here?"
Feisler shook Johannes's hand. "Just admiring this tarp, sir," he said with a smile.
"You wouldn't happen to know a Captain Marcus Feisler, would you?"
Feisler smiled, "at your service, sir. What can I do for you?"
"Well actually, there's something I wanted to do for you." Charles headed over to the covered aircraft and took hold of one corner of the tarp.
"Wanna look?" he asked, with a grin like a child on his birthday on his face.
"Well, yes sir!" Feisler said, flabbergasted.
"Then help me move this thing." Feisler positioned himself on the opposite end of the tarp, and on Johannes's signal, began to pull. The tarp slid away with ease, and as it revealed the masterpiece underneath, Feisler's jaw dropped. The aircraft was stunningly beautiful, like something out of a pilot's dream It shared a few features with his current aircraft, the YF-23, like shrouded exhausts, a thin, almost flat body, and twin canted tails, but it was obvious this was an entirely new design. Its silver, factory-pure, unpainted body gleamed in the hangar's fluorescent lights.
"What is this?" Feisler asked in awe.
"You like it?" Johannes chuckled, "that's the one and only YF-34 'Peregrine,' Remertia's indigenous superfighter. It's got a radar cross-section less than that of your YF-23s', twin Massey J380 engines producing 36,000 pounds of thrust, homegrown, of course- everything on this fighter was produced in this country- space for up to twelve missiles, eight bombs, or any combination of the two, a Vulcan machine gun mounted internally behind and to the right of the pilot, concealed external hardpoints that fold down, shrouded exhaust, and enhanced maneuverability due to a combination of canards, thrust-vectoring, and thrust reversers. Oh, and did I mention that it has air conditioning?"
"No, sir," Feisler said, placing his hand on the aircraft's smooth fuselage.
"It's an interceptor, designed to achieve speeds up to Mach 2.7, but hold its own in close combat. The government had us move the prototype here for two reasons: the first being that keeping it at the test facility, which is a prime target, is a pretty bad idea, and the second being that we need a pilot for the initial combat-readiness flight. You're that pilot."
"Me?" Feisler asked.
"That's right. Congratulations, son."
Feisler looked back at the plane. "Thank you, sir. I only have one question, though."
"What's that?"
Feisler smirked. "How soon can we get the squad patch on that tail?"
-
The following morning, Danial was in the mess hall with his squad mates. Breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast with jam. It was a simple but filling meal and Danial appreciated that they were at least given good food.
Following breakfast, the pilots went through their daily exercise routine. Since they were on high alert, they were not allowed to go into the nearby town and were confined to the base. Afternoon came and the three pilots of Whirlwind Squadron found themselves in the officer's club playing poker amongst themselves.
Freeman seemed to be winning so far and had gathered a rather large quantity of cash from his companions.
"Four of a kind! I'm the best poker player on this base!" he bragged, laying down his cards, revealing four 2s and an ace of clubs.
"Riiiiight." Danial replied, sarcastically, laying down his cards, revealing a 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8 of Hearts. A straight flush.
"Crap!" Max scowled, slapping his cards on the table revealing a completely useless assortment of cards.
Danial snatched up the pile of bills next to Freeman and said, "I'll be taking that."
"Double or nothing!" Freeman shouted.
"I'm not stupid, Tom. I know when to walk away." Danial replied, stuffing the bills into his pocket.
"Party pooper..." Freeman muttered.
-
Marcus had been sitting in the squad recreation area for almost the entire day with his friends, waiting for something to happen. His thoughts constantly returned to that new fighter... When could he fly it? He didn't know for sure, but he hoped it would be soon. In the meantime, he'd have to be content with sitting here on alert. He downed another handful of some cheese-flavored crackers, chewing slowly. His friends looked equally bored. War had started, and they were sitting here. As they understood, however, all of the action was farther east. Other squadrons were being utilized. They were extra assets, and Feisler could tell that Shadal, at least, was unhappy.
He sighed. Would anything happen today? He'd rather risk insurmountable odds, take on fifty Super Flankers, perhaps, than sit in this chair. Perhaps the Friebens were cooking up something interesting, he thought.
-
The following day passed agonizingly slow. The pilots half expected an air attack on their base but none came. Finally, as evening fell, an announcement over the loud speaker called all pilots to the briefing room.
As they arrived, Colonel Cass was already waiting for them. As everyone took their seats, the colonel turned on the overhead projector, displaying a digital map of the three countries. The image zoomed in on the border of Ardval and Remertia, displaying the sizable territory that the Ardvalian military had already seized through their surprise attack.
"Gentlemen, we have put together an operation to assist our allies in Remertia." the colonel explained.
Several targets apeared on the map and the colonel continued talking.
"There are three main bridged crossing the Haynes River near the border. Ardvalian troops are using these bridges as their primary crossing points. The objective of this operation is to destroy these bridges and cut off their supply rout. This will ease the burden on Remertian troops and delay Ardvalian reinforcements from entering the country. Whirlwind Squadron will handle the ground attack. Your assignment is to split off individually and destroy the three bridges. In addition, there is a supply depot on the east side of the river that must be destroyed as well.
Gheist squadron, you will be in charge of maintaining air superiority over the target area. Due to the close proximity to Ardval's border, we expect fierce air resistance and ground resistance. In addition, we are anticipating stormy weather conditions at the strike zone. Visibility will be poor so we will need everyone to put their best effort into this mission. Dismissed!"
The colonel departed the room.
"Finally!" Freeman chuckled. "I've been waiting for this!"
Danial drove his squadron to hangar where their planes were waiting. The ground crews were already in the process of arming their Su-25 Frogoot strike planes for the mission. Each aircraft was armed with two sidewinder missiles, four rocket pods, sight medium freefall bombs and a drop tank.
Danial knew they would still have to refuel for the return trip. After going over the preflight checklist, he closed the canopy and started the engines. The sun had already gone down by now and all that remained were the final rays of daylight.
-
A phone call informing the three pilots in the Ridley AFB recreation room to report to the briefing room immediately finally snapped Marcus out of his daze. They hurried over to the small room, taking their seats quickly. Colonel Olson walked in.
"As of now, I'm officially activating Nightbird squadron for wartime activities. Your first mission begins at 2100 tonight. We've received word from the Friebens that their Air Force will be conducting an air to ground strike tonight at the Haynes river, near Ardval's border. Nightbirds 2 and 3-" he looked to Sarelson and Shadal "-will be flying A-10s, in direct support of the ground attack efforts. Nightbird 1 will be flying a Tornado IDS armed with a mix of air-to-air and air-to-ground munitions." The Colonel looked to Feisler.
"You are responsible for assisting in both maintaining air superiority and the primary attack."
He turned to the assembled pilots. "Pilots, I wish you all the best of luck. May you all return safely. Dismissed."
The three stood up and headed for the flight line door. Not a word was spoken. Marcus found his aircraft: a Tornado painted up in a dark brown and olive-green camouflage scheme with a shark's mouth on the nose. it was equipped with two bomblet dispensers, and four Sparrow missiles, as well as two drop tanks; one on each wing. Not a ton of weaponry, he decided, but he was pretty sure he could hold his own in a gunfight, if it came to that.
He climbed into the cockpit and ran through the checklist. Before long, he was on the runway, with his squad-mates' A-10s right behind him. After getting the tower's permission to take off, he lit the burners and roared skyward. As the sun set, he turned on his previously disclosed heading. It was payback time.
-
At present, Nightbird squadron was about thirty minutes away from the Remertia/Ardval border, and ten minutes away from the rendezvous point.
"Keep your heads on a swivel," Lieutenant Sarelson radioed, "the Frieben squadron should be here any moment now."
"Roger," Marcus responded, maintaining a level heading. This would probably be the highest he'd fly for the rest of the night. Nightbird's attack profile called for an extremely low-altitude strike, below radar coverage- the squadron's specialty. The Remertians prided themselves in their low-level skill. The trick for them tonight would be timing. They would have to cross the border as soon as the President of Remertia announced the cancellation of the country's neutrality, and its declaration of war against Ardval. For a first mission, this was going to be tricky.
-
After getting clearance from the tower, Danial applied full throttle, roaring down the runway and climbing into the darkening sky, his wingmen right behind him.
Turning to the east, the three Su-25 Frogfoot attack planes crossed into Remertian border, bound for the Ardval occupation zone. The flight took about three hours and soon Danial had to switch on his panel lights to see. Up ahead, he could see an occasional flash of lightning. Just as they were briefed, weather conditions at the strike zone were poor. They were now just a few minutes from the rendezvous point with the Remertian strike squadron.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
High above the combat zone, the white E-767 with the Remertian roundel on the wings and tail soared above the storm clouds at an altitude of 35,000 feet. Major Tom Bigbee sat in front of a computer display showing a radar map with the locations of the fighter squadrons and the strike zone.
Bigbee was a man who took his job seriously. He didn't mind joking around and having a bit of fun with his subordinates, but he knew his duty came first and foremost.
Keying his headset, the Major addressed the incoming aircraft. "Attention all incoming aircraft, this is AWACS, callsign Stargazer. You are now under my command. After rendezvous, maintain an altitude of 500 feet AVG. That should get you past their early warning radars."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Understood, AWACS." Danial responded. He now had visual contact on the A-10s they were supposed to be meeting up with.
-
"Affirmative," Feisler replied. "Stargazer, Nightbird Squadron reporting in. Nightbird 1 present."
"Nightbird 2 present," Shadal said.
"Nightbird 3 present," Sarelson finished.
"Nightbird," Feisler ordered, "switch on radios and dive to below 1000 feet. It's time to start this. Frieben squadron, we're ready when you are. My squadron will attack on the President's declaration.
He rolled and set his Tornado screaming towards the terrain below. The A-10s followed, armed to the teeth, like angels of death. Marcus waited to hear what the Friebenese pilots were planning.
-
As soon as he had the Remertian strike group in sight, Danial dived for the deck, As he passed through the cloud layer, heavy drops of rain began to splatter against his canopy. Danial promptly switched on his terrain-following radar and leveled off at 500 feet above ground level.
"Alright, split off and engage the primary targets at will." he ordered his wingmen.
"Roger that!" Max replied.
"This is gonna be fun!" Freeman chimed in.
Danial checked his GPS map and saw that he was coming up on the first target. Arming his unguided drag bombs, he waited until he had visual on the target. The heavy rain and darkness made it difficult to see the target but the bright spotlights lining the bridge gave away it's position. Danial flew his Su-25 to line it up lengthwise with the bridge and once he had it in his bomb sights, he released two of the freefall bombs. One struck each end of the bridge, blowing it to pieces and sending the chunks of metal and concrete tumbling into the raging river below.
"AWACS, this is Gryphon, bridge one has been destroyed!" he radioed in. An instant later, tracer rounds from anti aircraft guns lit the sky around him, accompanied by the unmistakable buzz of a SAM locked onto him.
-
"Damn rain," Feisler muttered as the president's declaration came over the radio
"In the face of this attack and insult against our country..."
Marcus angled his plane towards the border. His wingmen did the same.
"I, President Harold Schweiz, on behalf of Remertia, declare war against the country of Ardval. May the righteous be the victor!"
The border whizzed by below on the President's last words. The act had been timed to avoid any political repercussions. Now any target on the Remertian side was fair game. Marcus received his and his squadron's attack coordinates on his aircraft's MFD.
"Alright," he said to Nightbird 2 and 3, "here's our job. You two will be using your HARMs to knock out the SAM installations ahead, to clear a path to the bridge systems deeper inside the border. I'll provide support, and try to handle any helicopters or aircraft that are giving you trouble. When we finish, we'll head inland farther and attack ground targets at will. Shoot for targets with strategic importance, if possible. Factories, hangars, command centers, anything that looks valuable.
A sudden burst of flak appeared in front of Feisler, rocking his plane.
"Drop another 100 feet," he ordered.
The other aircraft acknowledged, dropping to 250 feet AGL.
"Here we go," Feisler said, as the gunfire opened up.
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High above the area, Gheist was orbiting, waiting for action. Hyerich, in his Bird of Prey, was growing impatient. Impatient for many things, he knew, but some things could not be revealed... yet. Soon, many things would be revealed to these Mercenaries and Remertians. They were smart, he knew. They would find out eventually, but until then, it would be wise to lay low.
A cluster of blips appeared on his radar screen, inbound from the North. Perfect. Hyerich turned to acknowledge, watching as his squadron follow.
The pride of Frieben was at stake here, and he was not about to sacrifice it.
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In his A-10, Henrik Shadal selected his HARMs for use, waiting for the telltale missile lock alarm. Ripping through the sky at treetop level and dodging AA fire was exciting, but he had a more serious task at hand- a personal task.
The alarm sounded. Henrik's head snapped up. The SAM appeared to be dead ahead. Immediately, he loosed his HARM, watching its smoke trail as it headed for a concealed SAM battery, riding the weapon's radar beam. The projectile connected with the target, producing a large fireball. Henrik smiled grimly.
"That's one for you, Ayel," he whispered.
-
Reacting quickly, Danial released flares and dived into the ravine, skimming along the raging river. Explosions erupted on both sides of the canyon as the A-10s destroyed the anti aircraft guns. Danial quickly climbed back above the rim of the canyon as he came up on the second bridge. Max's Su-15 rocketed across the sky in front of him and the bridge exploded, sending shrapnel and debris everywhere. Danial pulled up to avoid the explosion. Another explosion billowed up in the distance and Freeman said over the radio, "Alright, I got the third bridge!"
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Bigbee contacted the pilots and relayed their next orders to them. "This is Stargazer. Primary mission objective is achieved. Now, move on to your secondary targets."
Glancing at the radar screen, he saw something out of the ordinary. There were multiple contacts closing in from the north. It closely resembled the missile attack from last time. Keying his headset, Bigbee shouted over the radio, "Warning! Multiple contacts are inbound from the north! This may be another missile attack! Stay alert!"
He sent the data he was receiving to the other pilots.
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Danial acknowledged the alert from Stargazer, keeping an eye on his radar. The missiles were still a ways away. He switched to rockets and closed in on his secondary target. There was a supply depot directly ahead. Danial lined the Pipper up on the supply crates and fired rocket after rocket. Numerous explosions rocked the area as the rockets tore into their targets. He had destroyed ten stockpiles of crates. With those out of the way, he banked hard and lined up the storage buildings and lit them up as well, claiming three more ground kills.
Max roared toward a tank depot, arming his rockets and preparing to fire. A bolt of lightning tore across the sky, followed by a crash of thunder. Ignoring the worsening weather conditions, Mad unleashed his payload, destroying five tanks on the first pas. Freeman flew in behind him and released several freefall bombs, destroying six more.
Danial glanced at his radar and saw that the incoming contacts were almost upon them.
"Missiles inbound! dive for the deck!" he shouted, hitting the throttle and speeding back toward the canyon. As the missiles separated and began hunting for targets, Danial flew parallel to the canyon and then flipped over, descending upside down into the canyon before leveling off just above the river.
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"Contact at 2:00 low," Hyerich said, spotting the nine SU-27s heading for the Mercenaries, "let none escape!"
His weapons bay snapped open, releasing six missiles, each targeting an individual fighter. Before the jets could react, they practically disintegrated. Several pilots escaped. A few did not. Two of the Sukhois dodged the missiles, and led the rest in a counterattack, swooping up towards the incoming Frieben aircraft.
"So it's a dogfight, then," Hyerich said, surrounded by the exhaust trails of missiles fired at the incoming planes by the rest of his squad. "Perfect." He rolled over and engaged, using his aircraft's superior maneuverability to rake the side of a Flanker with gunfire. Fire blossomed from one of the aircraft's engines, and it went into a tight spin, ripping itself to shreds. Hyerich checked his radar. More planes were inbound.
"Bring it on then," he said with a strange smile.
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Feisler followed the Mercenaries through the canyon, picking off the odd helicopter with his anti-air armament. His wingmen were using their GAU-8 Avenger cannons with devastating precision, raking the ground with deadly fire and chewing up everything left over by the Frieben forces. Feisler noticed the air battle above, and wished he still had some AA missiles left. He loved the Tornado, and even though it wasn't built to fight aircraft, he was confident in his abilities. Ahead, the canyon was leveling off. They had no choice but to pull out.
He skimmed above the canyon wall, rolling to avoid another SAM. A massive power station came into view.
"All planes," he radioed, "Nightbird is commencing an attack on the power station. Please move to support."
The skies lit up with bursts of flak as Feisler lined up for a bombing run, coming in at just over 100 feet AGL.
-
Danial weaved through the canyon until he came to the end.
"Damn!" he shouted, pulling up just in time. Dead ahead was a power plant. It was a tempting target but Danial knew he had other business to deal with, so he left it to the other pilots.
Spinning back toward the supply depot, he saw twelve tanker trucks set up as a makeshift fuel depot. Switching to his freefall bombs, he rocketed back toward the trucks, releasing a bomb dead in the center. A massive explosion ripped through fuel depot, destroying all twelve of the trucks and damaging the surrounding vehicles.
He was about to search for more targets when Stargazer suddenly alerted them over the radio.
"Warming all pilots! We have another contact inbound!" Bigbee shouted. "It appears to be another multi warhead missile! All aircraft, break and evade!"
The AWACS was far enough from the combat zone that it wasn't in any danger, however, the other planes were in the direct line of fire.
"Crap! Why now?" Danial shouted as his missile alarm screamed wildly in his ear. Launching more flares, he jinked hard to the right and managed to shake one missile off before another locked onto him.
-
Feisler was about to release his weapon when the call from Stargazer patched through. He cursed and rolled his plane out of the pattern.
"Sir, what are you doing?" Sarelson asked, confused.
"Another one of those strange warheads inbound," Feisler replied. "Fire off countermeasures, use evasive maneuvers, I don't care. Abort the mission and shake those missiles off!"
Feisler climbed sharply above, he saw the telltale "flower blossom" release pattern as the warheads separated, targeting their aircraft. He banked left, releasing chaff as he did so. A missile streaked right by, detonating just out of range.
"Too close," he thought, then he looked up. Above, he could see a dark shadow through the cloud cover. It was faint, perhaps just a cloud, but he didn't think so. Was that what had fired the missiles?
He dodged another one, as the attack continued. The missiles seemed to have a long burn time, long enough to give a fair amount of chase. He wondered how the Friebenese were doing.
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Hyerich also spotted the dark shape in the clouds. He was about to investigate, when several more missile trails appeared in the sky. They were in for a massive attack.
"All aircraft, retreat!" he called, diving for the deck and turning back towards home as his squadron followed.
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Danial struggled to shake the missile, releasing three more flares. Finally the missile alarm stopped screaming. It appeared that all the other missiles had either run out of fuel or were no longer tracking. Danial sighed in relief. The bridges and supply depot had been destroyed. His squadron's primary objective was complete. The enemy forces were in complete disarray down below. It appeared that the missile attack had let up as well.
He pulled raised altitude and said, "Stargazer, Whirlwind Squadron has completed the primary mission objective. Requesting permission to return to base.at.
Bigbee replied, "Understood. Permission granted to return to base. We're sending a tanker plane your way to refuel you for the return trip. Chance course to heading 090 east."
"Copy that." Danial said. "Alright, wing, form up on my six."
-
"Thanks, Whirlwind and Gheist," Feisler said, radioing the other aircraft, "looks like you saved our bacon again. We owe you a few drinks."
A light began blinking on Feisler's panel. A red light.
"Dammit," he swore, "why does it always have to be a red light?"
He turned to look out his canopy and saw the problem: smoke was pouring out of his right engine through numerous shrapnel holes. "Nightbird," he radioed, "I'm not going to make it back to base. We're diverting to the Frieben base to land."
"Roger, Nightbird lead," the others replied.
"Friebenese aircraft," Feisler said, "it sounds like you'll be getting my drinks a lot sooner than either of us thought."