Operation Sustenance (Closed, ATTN comorostan)

by **Birkaine** » Tue May 25, 2010 6:07 pm

"So, we are the dead... hm..."
"Yes we are."
"And when did we die?"
"The moment we won our war"

Battlefleet Legioner
5:30
Indian Ocean

The sun began to rise up, illuminating the salty air of the calm seas with a warm orange glow that made the ships of the fleet cast large shadows in front of them, as if leaving blackened wakes as they navigated,. Fresh-looking sailors came out the bridges of every single one of the hundreds of vessels at sea, from the largest mobile offshore base and aircraft carrier, to the smallest frigate. From the most important surface combattant to the most obscure and specific support vessel. The trumpeteers played brief tonades in the balconies of the superstructures to announce the beggining of a new day in one of the many operational rituals of the Birkanian Navy, collected from the variety of cultures that the Commonwealth now encompassed.

This was less announcing the beggining of the activity and more announcing the intensification of the action above the fleet, since as the sun began to come over the horizon it also made the metallic and composite skins of the dozens of aircraft and helicopters flying overhead give off silvery reflections. The sailors and marines onboard the many vessels had gotten used to the roar of jets long ago, although it still got on the nerves of the newbies scattered around the various vessels. In the center of the fleet there was the aircraft carrier Birkaina; the flagship of the condecorated Battlefleet Legioner, the huge group of vessels that tagged along the slow ultracarrier. Leading her battlefleet she had conquered all of Birkaine's colonies, and had not only eclipsed her sister but also most of the Birkanian Navy singlehandedly.

As usual, at the helm of the Birkaina was Grand Admiral Lavrenty Krakev, the most condecorated Birkanian currently alive. He defined the admiralty like no other officer did, and was the ideal for his fellow admirals. A true man of the sea, one could say, given that the better part of his life had been spent onboard a ship. What was unusual, however, was the presence of another Grand Admiral Andrei Shlokovski, who was usually at the command of a smaller ultracarrier by the name of More Zheleski. A bald, tall man of black eyes and thick eyebrows; Shlokovski was the youngest Grand Admiral, which isn't saying much.

"When are we stopping the ships, Admiral?" Shlokovski asked casually as his breakfast was brought to his post by another sailor "Don't want to go too deep into their waters with all these transports with us"
"Neither you want them too far away from the fleet" Krakev replied calmly while taking a sip from his coffee "Don't worry, Legioner is big enough to hold itself together on several fronts"
"But we need to take on their navy sooner or later"
"That will come when it's time"

The admiral rose up from his seat to conduct a routinary inspection of his subordinates' consoles, looking at the walls of cryptic data being channeled from the ship's large radars and sonars, that indicated that everything was still going on normally.

"Not too familiar with Legioner, who's exactly leading the ground forces?" The younger grand admiral inquired, taking a sip of coffee
"General Alla Lazareva" Krakev replied "General Derzhavin thought it was his time to retire. Too bad, the man was a veteran, but last operation's friendly fire incident seemed to hit him hard"
"But that wasn't his fault, it was his subordinates who screwed up. Jarostova if I'm not mistaken was the one guilty"
"Indeed she was" Another genera of the Air Force said as he stepped into the scene, with a cup of coffee also in his hands "Say, since Alla was Battlefleet Tempestus' ground commander, you should know if she's good at her job or not"
"Frankly, we haven't conducted that many ground operations ever since the War of Founding" Shlokovski said "And back then Tempestus was made of three Kirovs and a bunch of converted cargo vessels. I'm not too sure about her, frankly"
"Oh?"
"Too soft and has really seen no intense combat" Shlokovski noted "I say we give her command over the support forces and have someone else leading the front. I've heard Rostropovich is good"
"Well, Lazareva is never going to get experience if you keep pushing her to support duties" Krakev said "We'll see if she can be given a chance"

The fleet kept going for some hours, lowering its speed as it began its final approach on Comorostan, as the sailors and marines brought the whole fleet into full operational status once again. The amphibious assault ships consisted mainly of modernized Ivan Rogov-class vessels, carrying full battalions in their entrails. One of these was the 75th Guards Airborne Division; a veteran unit commonly deployed alongside Legioner. Inside, the soldiers were carrying their usual duties such as cleaning their rifles and conducting routinary trials, as well as medical exams. The ship was a tad cramped and several divisions were rotated to the Mobile Offshore Base that accompained the fleet for more extensive target practive as well as PT.

The soldiers were the same as ever, their minds forged by the Birkanian culture to fight without questioning, to see war more as a means than an end. Most of them hadn't heard of Comorostan before, but now that the fleet was en route they were studying the many maps of the nation they had been given, readying themselves for desert warfare and reading up on their enemmies; everything from their general culture to weather and such. They didn't precisely hate the Comorostani, but hatred was mere bulk in the mind of the Birkanian soldier. There wouldn't be hatred and brutality, nor friendliness or mercy, only efficiency and effectiveness, valued by Birkanians far more than other qualities such as honor and chivalry from hundreds of years.

Amongst the soldiers who felt familiar with eachother since years ago, there was a new face, a professional-looking field medic who dissasembled his gun, lying in front of him, who in turn sat between two soldiers. He lifted the top cover and the small tray underneath it, then cocked the weapon and checked it was clear. He pulled the string and the buffer out, then the bolt assembly with a serious expression, with all sorts of clicking noises accompaining his task. Next to him, a soldier was unsuccessfuly trying to dissasemble her recently-issued AN-94 rifle.

"You're not supposed to do it like that, that one's different to the Borovikovsky" The medic said as he lifted the barrel off the gun. "Push the button at the end of the receiver, then take the top off"
"Really?" She did so and the top of the gun came off "You know these pretty well for a new guy"
"You know very little for someone who's been taught this over and over again" He replied, removing the bipod mount, smiling. "I'm not new, I was transferred here after... um... a certain screw up with a fellow soldier"
"Oh, come on, who doesn't sleep trough the training videos?" She said with a laugh, before intoducing herself "Ilya Rotokova. Call me just Ilya. And your name?"
"Dimitri Korolev"

by **Comorostan** » Wed May 26, 2010 3:55 pm

Basilixa, Comorostan
Presidential Residence
Emergency War Room
“…sighted in the Indian Ocean two days ago. Confirmed by satellite imagery. Estimated strength is several supercarriers, one massive ship we think is some kind of mobile base, multiple support units. Troop strength estimated at…”

“Stop,” Mister President said. The intelligence officer, a colonel, stopped his presentation. Everyone waited for the man who ran Comorostan to speak.

“Everything has been mobilized?”

“Yes, Mister President. We’ve called up the reserves, the Loyalty Battalions, and the Auxiliary Engineers.”

“Good. The regular forces are on alert?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. We will wait until the Birkainian fleet enters the gulf. Then we hit them with everything-ships, planes, missiles, suicide riders, all of it.

“When they land, we hit them with more rockets, artillery, air strikes. The Loyalty Battalions lay IEDs and ambush. When they move forward, we hold the front, hit them on the flanks, counter-attack at every opportunity.

“The air force is flying 24/7. We hit their aircraft, we hit their ships, we hit their troops and their beachheads and their bases.

“The important thing, the overriding factor, is make them pay. We make the Commonwealth bleed and sweat and fight for every mile of Comorostan they take. And when they’ve bled and sweated and fought to their last breath, we ride in and wipe them out.”

Mister President rose from his seat.

“Meeting adjourned. Make the preparations to receive their ships in the gulf.”

The rest of the staff exited after him, the naval officers already calling their bases, giving the orders to their subordinates.

Persian Gulf
The Comorostanis had owned the gulf from their first days as a regional power. They ran what was, essentially, a protection racket, extorting money from other nations in return for naval escorts of their ships. Any nation who balked tended to suffer some very brutal piracy.

Now, the gulf was filled with small, unassuming fishing boats and private yachts, going to and fro. Of course, these were not what they appeared.

On each was a crew of Comorostani sailors, and the ships were equipped with minelaying equipment. A flotilla of hidden and regular minelayers crisscrossed the water, seeding it with hundreds of cheap but effective naval mines.

Across Comorostan
The news of the impending invasion was spread quickly, along with news of the total call-up.

The impressive (but somewhat outdated) Comorostani Army was the core fighting force of the nation, but not the only one. The Loyalty Battalions, paramilitary units with fanatical devotion to the state, were being called up and armed. These units were small, unsuited for direct combat. Instead, they were being used primarily as behind-the-lines raiders and guerillas, making occupation a difficult task for the invaders.

Fortifications were sprouting like spidercracks as the Auxiliary Engineers, made up a prisoners, labor slaves and conscripted civilians, was helping the regular Engineer Corps pour tons of concrete and lay down thousands of trees as they readied main lines of resistance, followed by secondary and tertiary lines of defense in case those main ones fell.

The economy, what little there was, was going to take a serious hit. But that didn’t matter if the country fell to the Birkainians. People couldn’t buy stuff if they were dead or in labor colonies.

by **Birkaine** » Mon May 31, 2010 5:37 pm

"Sir, we've got some contacts from the last JSTARS update" A sailor said as he got to the busy bridge of one of the Troika-class carriers, overlooking the busy flight deck.
"Anything special?" The captain said, finishing her breakfast.
"Yes, ma'am" The sailor said, looking at a few notes coming from the Comms crew "We've got several dozen small boats, sailing around the area"
"Hm... they've got Legioner on their toes and their fishing boats and yachts are still going around like nobody's business?" The captain noted with a curious tone "Has command authorized us to inspect?"
"More than authorized" The chief comms officer said after listening closely to the transmissions for a few minutes "We've been ordered to do some recce, alongside the Yego Zhelaniye"
"Allright, send up some helicopters" The chief air controller said "They must be up to something"

The helicopter crews of the two supercarriers were called up, being randomly selected from the dozens of aircraft carriers that accompained Birkaina, and their helicopters were prepared. The four Ka-60 and six smaller Ka-25s were readied on the decks, the latter being mounted with Kord machineguns while their larger counterparts had heavier gunpods installed on them. While they didn't quite think that the boats were being part of the enemy war machine, they were given clearance to fire upon the ships as harrasment, and if needed, to sink the ship.
The hastily armed gunships took off, the duty of surveying the boats been given to them because the specialized attack helicopters and helicopter gunships had not been readied, as well as communications problems admist the large battlegroup. The heavy gunpods weighed down the Ka-60s, reducing their maneuvrability.

"Allright, this is Golub leader, we're requesting permission for take off" The pilot said as he checked the lights on the instruments panel.
<<This is control to Golub and Kanarejka flights; you are authorized for takeoff>> The controller said, looking at the helicopters from the bridge <<Watch for traffic, skies are crowded today>>
"Understood..." He said, switching off the comms and looking at his co-pilot "Stasova, how much are you willing to bet that the ships are gonna wind up being full of idiots protesting the war?"
"I say they're paramilitaries or some shit" The co-pilot replied "Wouldn't surprise me if they were patrol boats on disguise. I think we're gonna shoot. I bet 50."

With that, the helicopters took off the two carriers, and separated into five couples, flying at a relatively low altitude while being directed to five different Comorostanian boats without much air escort, and instead relying on their low altitude to avoid detection. However, air threats were the least of the problems for the pilots as hundreds of aircraft overflew the carrier group. For now, the only worry of the pilots was arriving to their targets.

The fleet began to switch into an attack formation to hammer into the gulf. Light carriers escorted by frigates and destroyers formed the first line of attack surface vessels, while supercarriers escorted by arsenal cruisers and more potent vessels would form the main pushing force, with the invasion ships and support vessels rested in the rear of the fleet protected mostly by cruisers and a large dreanought. Birkaina and the mobile offshore base were at the core of the large fleet dominated mostly by carriers, while surface combattants acted as escorts and pickets.
However, even before the escort carriers and frigates there were the submarine squadrons tasked with scouting and monitoring the enemy, divided into wolfpacks of 5 ships. One of these, formed by 4 Lada-class submarines flanking a larger Akula-class ship was tasked with advancing into the gulf earlier than the rest of the fleet, unaware of the minefield that awaited.

by **Comorostan** » Thu Jun 03, 2010 5:26 am

The arrival of the Birkainian helicopters was greeted in varying ways by the boats.

In two cases, the officers realized their few light arms were ineffective against the aircraft, so they simply ordered the weapons stowed, the mine-laying equipment covered, and the crews to act normally.

As the helicopters flew overhead, the men acted like fishermen. Some waved fists or cursed at the choppers, others simply waved, and the rest went about their (fake) work.

A third boat tried to do the same, but it had chosen a bad time. Floating just a bit to the left was a mine, visible from the air. The crew had not had time to properly plant it when the officer ordered the ship to flee.

The fourth boat was an actual Comorostani patrol boat, on scout duty rather than minelaying. As soon as the helicopters appeared the gunners ran to their stations, manning two sets of twin 15mm heavy machineguns. As they began to spit fire, other sailors added their personal weapons to the mix, firing assault rifles and even some pistols.

The fifth boat was another unassuming trawler. However, the officer onboard was a bit of a fanatic. As the helicopters appeared, a tone lock would sound, and soon one could see a white smoke trail rising rapidly from the back of the boat. The officer had ordered his men to open fire with their lone Igla MANPADS. Others could be seen clutching assault rifles and aiming them at the approaching aircraft.

Meanwhile, the Comorostani naval commanders were watching the advance of Legioner via satellite relays and monitoring devices in the Gulf. The submarines had not yet neared the edge of the minefields-at this point the mines were really only in effective numbers in a belt near the shoreline. However, there were a few clusters in the open waters of the Gulf, enough to pose a hazard to any large movement of ships. And they wouldn’t be moving unmolested.

The first wave of Coastal Air Command aircraft were warming up on their airfields. Mostly older types, MiG-27 and Su-24 attack aircraft and MiG-29 and Su-27 fighters, they were the first units to be thrown at the enemy.

The orders were flashed down from High Command: engage enemy fleet.

In staggered groups, some 80 or so aircraft roared off six separate airfields along the coast, the fighters loaded for escort missions, the attackers armed with anti-ship missiles. They swept wide, formed up into a series of loose formations, and screamed in to attack the Birkainian fleet.

On the same airfields and some others, the second wave was being readied.

Under the waves, Comorostani attack subs were on the prowl, hunting in woflpacks not unlike their Birkainian counterparts. Again, it was mostly Coastal Command ships in the vanguard, older model non-nuclear subs. High Command was saving the Air Force and Navy regulars for later, when there was a chance to bag major enemy warships.

by **Birkaine** » Thu Jun 03, 2010 5:43 pm

The two boats that fired upon the Birkanians hit their marks, with the Igla destroying a Kasatka helicopter, and the 15mm downing one Ka-27 helicopter after killing the crew onboard; The larger Ka-60 was hit multiple times and was the third aircraft to be destroyed as its airframe simply broke apart in midair, sending a rain of metallic shards upon the ocean, with no survivors, with only a single Ka-27 surviving, only to crash-land onto the sea a few minutes later after being shot up by assault rifle fire in critical areas. The rest of the helicoptes closely monitored the boats that had still not fired upon them, and only realized what situation they were in once the panicked shouting of their comrades slightly before losing contact.

"Shit, our squad lead got shot down" The pilot informed after he heard the transmissions from the radio, an AWACS confirming the downing of the allied helicopters. "Everybody keep your eyes peeled. Some of those boats are onto something. They take out weapons, you shoot them. They turn sharply, you shoot them. They look at you funny, you shoot them."
"Hey, do you see that?" The co-pilot of one of the two remaining Ka-60s said, looking at the mine left floating near one of the boats, that was trying to speed away. "Looks like they dumped something on the ocean"
"Shit, they ARE onto something, that looks like a mine" A third crewmember said after looking trough his binoculars at the strange object. "That's enough for us to shoot them, smoke those bastards"

The helicopter began orbiting the minelayer ship as the pilot took aim and prepared to fire once he got a good shot at the minelayer. Once the helicopter got perpendicular to the vessel, the pilot pulled the triggers on the flight yoke, which made the two 23mm gunpods erupt into fiercy fire as they began to fire dozens of rounds onto the enemy ship, letting an equal number of empty cartridges fall to the sea as they shot the enemy ship full of armor piercing-incendiary ammunition in three bursts that depleted half the gunpod's ammunition stock. The helicopter wasn't going to wait to see the results, and instead turned away immediately after firing in fear of retaliation, flying low to quickly get below the horizon.

"Command, do you copy!?" The pilot said as he sped away from the ship. "This is Golub 5, do you copy?"
<<This is command, copy you Golub 5>> The controller said in his usual calm but calculating voice.
"We've got enemy minelayers on the area!" The pilot shouted into the radio "We just engaged one, we need both kill confirmation and some bigger guns here, Golub 1,2, 6 and 7 got mauled by antiair"
<<Understood. This is command to all Golub units, you're ordered to RTB immediately>>

And so, the first shots of the war were officially fired, now from both sides, costing the Birkanians four helicopters. The crewmembers of the last downed Ka-27 did a successful emergency landing, but were left floating many kilometers away from friendly lines, and were left with no choice but to turn on their radio beacons and wait. The rest of the helicopters quickly abandoned their targets and returned to the carriers, being replaced by Mi-24M and Ka-50 gunships in the task of hunting down the enemy minelayers. Unlike the previous mission, the attack helicopters had now been spared due to the top priority of eliminating the minelayers with their anti-tank missiles.
However, they kept flying at low altitude and close to the fleet, making sure that the seamen onboard the hostile vessels didn't see or hear them. The idea was to give the enemy the impression that they had fended off the attack so they could continue laying the mines. The eyes of the gunships would be several high-flying S-65 UAVs, that fixed their cameras on the many trawlers and fishing boats that littered the gulf, and monitored them from beyond visual range, at its maximum altitude, to 'paint' the targets that were confirmed minelayers.

The sirens began sounding on the first-line carrier groups, consisting of half a dozen Megalit-class catamaran carriers escorted by twice the ammount of Leftwhich-class frigates. This was the signal for the pilots that weren't currently flying to abandon whatever they were doing at the moment, and head for the hangars to scramble. The planes that were already on-deck were lined up to be launched in groups of two, as the ordies onboard ran from one side of the ship to the other, pulling the large carts and driving the forklifts that carried the ammunition and fuel tanks for the planes. The Birkanian AWACS had detected the incoming enemy attack from thousand sof kilometers away, and the Birkanians were hell-bent on destroying the enemy attack craft before they got in range to launch their missiles.

<<Attention all pilots>> The controller said trough the radios, also linked to the ships' intercomms and loudspeakers, so the call was also heard on the busy runway <<Attention all pilots, enemy aviation coming from vector 155, Angels 5. All second stage pilots are ordered to scramble for interception>>

Even aircraft that weren't air superiority fighters were loaded with missiles as the enemy neared. One of these planes, a small but stealthy Va-25 multirole fighter, rolled to the catapults. The aircraft would have once been the focus of respect of admiration, not for its design or specific type -as the Va-25 was fairly common- but for its pilot. Lieutenant Tatiana Radlanova, the top-scoring ace of the modern Birkanian Air Force, was now a waning idol. Not only were other pilots nearing her kill score, but she had herself been pulled away from the spotlight and onto the current situation by Birkanian Air Force generals. To their eyes she was not the icon everybody was impressed with. She was a drug-addicted, corrupt and demeaning person whose fame had gotten over her head, and not worthy of being the figurehead of the Birkanian Air Force anymore. After a few heated encounters with said generals, the top brass of the air force had her stripped of all condecorations, removed her curvy figure from recruitment posters and demoted her over and over again, stripping her of the fame she held so dear.
Now she was just an obscure pilot in the Naval Aviation ranks.

"Allright, everything is set up" While Tatiana would have once said this with an enthusiastic, adrenaline-rushed tone, now she just spoke softly, with nostalgia. The pilot looked as the ground crew locked the front wheel of her plane to the launch catapult "Lilith requesting for takeoff"
<<This is control, roger that, permission granted>> Another of the controllers said, looking at her plane from the window of the coning tower. <<...Back into business, huh?>>
"...Only after 15 planes" Tatiana rested her head against her seat, and gripped the controls.

To Birkanians, there was only one way to redeem the gravest cases of dishonor or recklessness in battle. From ancient times and onto the modern Birkanian military, the death of 15 enemmies were required to consider a warrior worthy of ascending to officer ranks again. This carried on to the Air Force, were the destruction of 15 planes was required. Tatiana had yet to shoot down a single plane since her penalty was imposed, but she had waited with an uncharacteristic patience. The plane was shot off the deck by the catapult, and quickly began to climb, heading alongside 4 others to the main formation of Birkanian fighters.

<<Allright, this is Kadmij leader, comms check complete>> The pilot of a Va-36 said, his callsign giving out the Birkanian tendency of assigning the elements as their squadrons' designations <<Everybody prepare for interception, I want radio silence and passive radar, understood? Better not to screw up our surprise factor here. Our AWACS will assign us targets, if they're still alive after the first volley then we break radio silence and butcher every single one of those guys.>>

The pilots cheered, before cutting their radio channels and heading to intercept the enemy planes. The Birkanians had only managed to muster 60 of the hundreds of aircraft at their disposal to head off for the interception, but those planes counted with vital advantages, being their stealthiness and their support from the multitude of AWACS planes above. The planes were loaded with a variety of long and short-range missiles, optimized against countermeasures with blackbody filtering computers and doppler shift radars. The slightly larger attack craft were given higher priority and would be engaged by the 22 Va-36 air superiority fighters, while the enemy fighters would be targetted by the multitude of smaller jets like Va-25s and Va-32s. A second line of air defense was being readied in the form of 32 Su-2000s and 12 Va-36s in case the first one failed to accomplish their mission completely, and all the front row carriers began evasive maneuvers as the frigates moved in to provide air defense against enemy munitions.

by **Comorostan** » Fri Jun 04, 2010 9:14 am

The boat splintered under the barrage of cannon fire, the fragile hull breaking in several places as rounds went straight through. The crew jumped overboard as several rounds hit the few mines left on the ship, the resulting explosion tearing the ship to bits.

With news of the engagements spread via radio, many ships simply darted for the nearest port; their crews interned or more likely handed back over the Comorostanis by the local governments. The few that stayed out were mostly official naval boats, with weapons to stand a chance in a fight against helicopters, though they were not prepared for tank-killers.

Where they could, the minelayers and patrol boats engaged the enemy choppers. If they were lucky, they dropped off their mines and then darted for their naval bases. But the boats were essentially helpless against anything they couldn’t see and aim at visually.

Junior Pilot Alexi Gorsikov was beginning to sorely regret his decision to apply for the air training program.

When the armed forces had started to recover from the debilitating losses of the war with Phillipandania and Wolf Hold, the Air Force had held the most glamour. Alexi, like thousands of others, had applied to enter the prestigious Pilot Academy in Tabriz, learning to fly and kill for the state. Then, as the needs of the Air Force lessened, the glut of pilots was shifted towards the lesser forces, like Coastal Command.

Now, he was stuck in an outdated MiG-29, escorting outdated attack aircraft in an almost certainly suicidal attack. Ground-based radar had picked up rising escorts, and his radar confirmed it. 60+ enemy airplanes, almost certainly better than the ones he and his comrades were flying.

“All escorts, this is Lead.” That was the stern voice of the fighter commander, Brian Hasks. He was the most experienced among them, having flown against Hallakhan aircraft during the short-lived intervention and scored a single kill.

“Enemy planes rising high and fast. Lead flights will move to engage them. Attackers will hug the deck and launch ASAP. Secondary escorts will stay with them and keep the enemy off their backs. Understood?”

Gorsikov voiced an affirmative, as did the other escorts and attack planes. He was part of the lead flight, so he banked and climbed to get a better position. He double-checked his instruments and armed his missiles, a mix of AA-11 Archers and AA-12 Adders. Again, older weapons, but hopefully marginally effective in the large numbers the planes could deploy.

Meanwhile, the attack planes and about third of the escorts continued on, the attackers skimming the waves and the escorts flying above them. They pressed on, heedless of the soon-to-begin aerial duel above them.

by **Birkaine** » Sat Jun 05, 2010 9:02 pm

The Mobile offshore base and troop carriers were still far away from the first line that was engaging in combat, and so the deck of some of the troop transporter ships were cleared of helicopters so that the soldiers could begin a variety of tasks from PT to firing exercises. On one of the ships, Korolev and his platoon were assembled on deck, after some hours of PT to keep the soldiers fit for fight after the lenghty trip. After some resting, the soldiers organized a small soccer tournament between the various units stationed at the ship. Soccer was a sport that had a remarkable popularity in Birkaine, especially seeing how it didn't involve shooting like other popular Birkanian "sports". The sports were led by the unit's leading officers.

"What do you mean that didn't count?" Korolev shouted from the bench as he and his team waited to be the next. "The goalie was already in the damn goal"
"Bullshit, I was right in front of the line!" The goalie yelled back "Wait for your damn turn"
"At this pace it's gonna be after the war if you fuckers keep denying their goals" The sergeant of Korolev's unit shouted. "Get off the fucking field, it's our turn"
"What, are you gonna kick me out of the field!?" The leader of the losing team yelled, a sergeant major, as he stepped out of the field and walked towards the sergeant "You're not going to play today, now piss off!"

Immediately, the soldiers started yelling. The sergeant couldn't give a damn about his opponent's higher rank, and insisted in that the losing team should get off the field. Suddenly, all the rank markings ceased mattering as a huge melee started over the field, ignited by the two sergeants, and where all soldiers were treated -and beaten up- as equals. Higher officers and comissars fueled the fight rather than breaking it up, and the few ones that tried to were beaten up. However, the fight soon ground to a halt as the soldiers started to hear a very loud chant coming from the starboard side.
The chanting was transmitted via loudspeakers, in a language that none of the soldiers there understood. Curiosity alone made all the fighters -with their hands still around each other's necks- focus on the particular ship. It didn't look even remotely like the other Birkanian ships, and instead had a sleek look to it, with a somewhat polygonal aspect, and devoid of the clusters of antennae that adorned the bridges of Birkanian warships. Instead, the white vessel had a monolithic aspect to it, and sailed right next to the Ivan Rogov-class ship.

"The heck is that?" Ilya said, ignoring her bleeding nose and bruised face "What are you looking at, assholes!?"
"Doesn't look like it's ours" A rifleman, more specifically a designated marksman, said.
"Oh crap" Korolev noted "It's the freaking arabs. I didn't know they had sent a whole damn ship here"
"The arabs? You mean the ones we're gonna shoot?" Ilya asked, getting her hands off a beaten up soldier.
"No."

The ultramarine Birkanian flag didn't fly on the discrete mast of the ship. Instead, it was adorned by a flag consisting of a white, green and orange background, centered around a crescent and a star. It was a ship of the Middle Eastern Coalition, and its crew was currently doing their Dhuhr prayers, characteristic of the very traditionalist military.
The Middle Eastern Coalition was a large federate state comprised of a great number of Birkaine's colonies, all of which resisted cultural imperialism. Once ruled by a variety of brutal dictators and all sorts of warlords, the states had fallen one by one to the advances of the Birkanian Army, more specifically Battlefleet Legioner. Attempts at repressing the arab culture by Birkanians had proven fruitless in the few occasions they didn't backfire into civil violence. As such, it was given a great deal of autonomy, and became somewhat influential in the Birkanian government.
The Middle Eastern Coalition, or MEC, was here to overlook the Birkanian forces. They didn't take well for Birkaine to be fighting a culture similar to theirs, and had refused to send the force they usually deployed alongside Legioner. Instead, a single Alaska-class cruiser was sent, full of observators to make sure no atrocities or desecrations were committed against their foes and, more importantly, islamic culture in general. In a twist of fate, the vanquished were now overseeing the victors.

Meanwhile, the squadron of tank killers skimmed the seas, five groups of a single black Mi-35M leading a squad of four Ka-52BMs with khaki camouflage. The pilots had their targets transmitted to their HMDs, painted by the UAV and priorized. The patrol boats would be attacked first, while the minelayers would be taken care of in the second run. The helicopters then approached their targets to get in range of their Khrizantema missiles, but remaining out of the line of sight of the enemy.

The first volley of missiles was launched by the helicopters, totalling twenty missiles at the many different targets laid by the UAV. Immediately after launch they broke off, and headed towards their second set of targets, readying their missiles again.

A single Ka-60 escorted by two other Ka-52s took off from one of the aircraft carriers, to rescue the crew of the Ka-27 that had crash-landed, and destroy any ships or slow-flying aircraft that attempted to get close. The stranded crew now could do little else but float around and wait for the helicopters to come rescue them. One of them was wounded after the shrapnel that flew from the rotor of the now-sunken chopper almost cleaved off his right arm, and the others had sustained lighter wounds.

The Birkanian SIGINT aircraft and Mirage-class EW cruisers were the first to notice the enemy radar transmitting the target uplinks to the enemy aircraft, and soon they were given orders to cut the eyes off the enemy attack squadron. After some seconds of scanning the frequencies at which the enemy uplink operated, and then began to overwhelm the communication lines between the radar and the Comorostani aircraft and their ground-based radar with radio jamming, synchronizing it with the Birkanian AWACS datalinks so that they wouldn't jam the target acquisition of the interceptor squadron.

The Birkanian interceptors themselves were informed of the jamming finally arrived within missile range of their enemmies. The squadron lead looked at all the green squares that popped up on his HMD, and finally concentrated on the two that had been assigned to him, as did the rest of the pilots. The first volley launched consisted of more than 65 missiles, launched mostly at the low-flying strike craft. At the eyes of the pilots, the enemy fighters could be engaged whenever they pleased.

OOC: And I forgot to post the ORBAT

by **Comorostan** » Sun Jun 06, 2010 10:56 am

Approaching Legioner
Junior Pilot Gorsikov knew the mission was fucked when the jamming kicked in.

"This is Gorsikov. Anyone got eyes?" A chorus of negatives filled him with dread.

"We continue the mission," Hask voiced.

Below him, he could spot missile contrails. Headed for the strike planes.

Those planes were at more of a disadvantage, being forced to fly lower and straighter. The missiles wiped out dozens of strike planes, leaving only a handful. Their escorts managed to acquire the lead Birkainian planes and salvoed off their missiles, while the upper flights tried to jockey for a better position before attacking. What this meant was that only a third of the escorts, themselves hurt by the missile attacks, were firing. The advantage the Comorostanis had hoped to gain from numbers was lost, in this opening launch at least.

In the Gulf
The hunter-killers were having an effect. Four patrol boats took direct hits, hulls snapping and anti-tank warheads broke them in half. The faster minelayers and civilian boats had better luck, still losing a fair number but generally managing to outrun the helicopters, fleeing before they could enter missile range.

At the crash site, the Comorostanis had fired a few bursts in the crew's direction, then left to avoid retaliation. Overhead, the crew could see the beginnings of the aerial duel as missile streaks crisscrossed the sky.

by **Birkaine** » Sun Jun 06, 2010 11:11 pm

The radio silence was immediately broken after the first confirmed hits. Several dozen of the radar blips dissappeared from the HMDs of the fighter pilots, who began climbing. They would dispatch the escorts, while the remaining strike planes would be handled by long-range missiles launched by the less capable multirole jets. The sirens on the frigates blared again, as their crew rushed indoors and the VLS doors of the long-range SAMs began to open and their radars began to pivot towards the general direction the enemy aircraft were coming from, preparing to shoot down any strike aircraft that made it trough the second volley launched by the Birkanian craft. The whole first line of light carriers began zigzagging, to make things more difficult for enemy target acquisition, and assumed a formation so that every ship would be capable of individually locking onto enemy missiles and they wouldn't hit each other with their CIWS gunfire, if it came to that.

<<This is AWACS Fermi, we've got thirty plus kills confirmed>> The operators began transmitting, from the A-50M craft that was flying some distance away. <<Keep up the good work, they'll break soon>>
"This is Lilith, Did I get anybody?" Tatiana immediately bursted into the frequency, eager to hear. "AWACS, can you confirm?"
<<AWACS Bohr here>> Another AWACS replied <<Downing of enemy Su-24 aircraft confirmed, congratulations>>

Tatiana felt like her heart was about to come off her chest and she almost cheered trough the radio, but she managed to hold herself back. It was that kind of indiscipline what had landed her in a Va-25, oceans away from home, shooting down these aircraft instead of going from airshow to airshow. Now there was only 13 enemmies remaining, considering the Fencer had a crew of two.
Immediately after noticing the wave of incoming missiles, all the fighters in the front row scattered and did a complete 180, deploying their towed decoys, and sealing off their weapons bay doors immediately. The many missiles lost lock as a result, but a few had already gotten into close quarters when the planes did so, and thus their radars were able to track the stealthy fighters. This resulted in eight Va-36s, six Va-25s and one Va-32 getting shot down with 13 succesful ejections, with a similar number of damaged planes that had to break away from the fight immediately, their airframe no longer stealthy because of the battle damage.

"Shit, this is Kadmij 1 to RAV" The lead pilot said "Do you copy!?"
<<This is RKA command, we copy loud and clear>> The operator onboard Birkaina said, a high-ranking colonel in command of the electronic warfare divisions.
"I need you to jam their damn radars" The pilot shouted "We're sustaining too many losses to these guys"
<<Understood, we have power to spare>>

A second jamming ship came online, this time not targetting the enemy radar uplinks but instead the range of frequencies at which the radars of the enemy aircraft operated, and overwhelming them with noise. This would also disable the Birkanian fighters' radars, but the AWACS radars were largely unaffected, as they operated on completely different frequencies. The plan was to deny the enemy aircraft the capability to attack, and deliver the descisive blow. As the second set of jammers began broadcasting, the fighters launched a second volley of 40 R-77 missiles at the enemy fighters. The strike aircraft launched a similar number of missiles at the remaining attack craft.

The bursts from the gun had killed two of the stranded crewmembers of the Ka-27, and one of the survivors was gravely wounded. He was quickly brought onboard the Ka-60 and stabilized by the first aid team, while his companion simply sat on the side, with only minor bruises. The pilots looked at the sky, noticing the growing number of missile contrails from both sides, and then the missiles claiming their many victims on both sides. The helicopter certainly wasn't safe in the area, and the escorts only posessed short-range laser-guided missiles. The wreck of one of the jets crashed dangerously close to the Kasatka, which was enough for the pilots to immediately break off from the area.

"God dammit, it's raining planes" The pilot said, looking at the crash site, where a large spot of fuel began to rise admist the twisted metal and fire. "Let's get outta here, quick!"
"Amen, man" The co-pilot replied as the helicopters began accelerating. However, the air traffic controllers soon began giving them new orders.
<<This is Kub actual to Golub 5>> They heard from the radio <<Multiple friendlies shot down over your AO, cancel the RTB and rescue them. We will send additional reinforcements>>
"Allright" The pilot sighed "What about enemy pilots?"
<<Leave them where they are, and shoot up a couple to avenge Golub 6>>

The helicopter then rushed to the areas where the pilots had ejected, accompained by several additional SAR helicopters that had been launched from the fleet. Nobody could tell if any of the pilots had been wounded, and they wouldn't wait for the answer. Daring the battlefield, the SAR choppers and their escorts went in to rescue their comrades in arms.

Meanwhile, two attack squadrons were readied by the Birkanians. Consisting of 20 Su-2000s escorting some 32 Va-32 and 15 Va-25, accompained by 2 Va-25RV electronic warfare craft, their objective were to prevent any more of these attacks from getting close to the fleet, using HARM missiles and GPS-guided bombs to take out the radars, and standoff submunition dispensers to disable enemy runways. The Va-25s would cover the advance with jamming of the Comorostani ground-based radars, while stealth and flying admist the clouds would hopefully take care of the rest.

The planes flew on a wide curve kilometers away from the ongoing aerial battle, to avoid being spotted by the Comorostani pilots.

by **Comorostan** » Wed Jun 09, 2010 11:17 am

Approaching Legioner
The overhead escorts managed to fire off a good volley before the radar jamming kicked in, but the second wave of enemy missiles hit them hard as well.

Junior Pilot Gorsikov looked on in horror as two planes banked to evade enemy missiles and collided in midair. It was a mistake no good pilot should have made, but these were scared kids.

Below, the few remaining strike craft took another pounding, leaving barely a handful to launch their Kh-31 anti-ship missiles at the very edge of their effective range. The Kh-31 was another old Soviet weapon, the first tactical supersonic anti-ship missile, but it was the best Coastal Command could come up with.

As the missiles streaked away, the attack planes banked hard and started to retreat, their few surviving escorts climbing to join the main aerial battle.

Total Losses (so far):
26 MiG-29s
37 Su-24s

Surviving Aircraft:
24 MiG-29s
23 Su-24s

In the Gulf
The flight of attack planes and their escorts was spotted by a fleeing minelayer, who managed to get a message, garbled by the jamming but still basically understandable, to the nearest naval base.

The base in turn sent a message via telephone to nearby airfields, where they were told rather pointedly that no aircraft could be spared from the attack missions. So the naval base went over their heads to the nearest unit of the Valor Guard, the organization designed to prevent retreats on the battlefield, who “convinced” the airfield commander to spare some planes.

All this took time, though, so the wave of attack planes would be met on the coast itself, only a short distance from the airfields, instead of out over the water, and by hurriedly scrambled units. However, these were actual Air Force planes, Osean [url=Approaching Legioner
The overhead escorts managed to fire off a good volley before the radar jamming kicked in, but the second wave of enemy missiles hit them hard as well.

Junior Pilot Gorsikov looked on in horror as two planes banked to evade enemy missiles and collided in midair. It was a mistake no good pilot should have made, but these were scared kids.

Below, the few remaining strike craft took another pounding, leaving barely a handful to launch their Kh-31 anti-ship missiles at the very edge of their effective range. The Kh-31 was another old Soviet weapon, the first tactical supersonic anti-ship missile, but it was the best Coastal Command could come up with.

As the missiles streaked away, the attack planes banked hard and started to retreat, their few surviving escorts climbing to join the main aerial battle.

Total Losses (so far):
26 MiG-29s
37 Su-24s

Surviving Aircraft:
24 MiG-29s
23 Su-24s

In the Gulf
The flight of attack planes and their escorts was spotted by a fleeing minelayer, who managed to get a message, garbled by the jamming but still basically understandable, to the nearest naval base.

The base in turn sent a message via telephone to nearby airfields, where they were told rather pointedly that no aircraft could be spared from the attack missions. So the naval base went over their heads to the nearest unit of the Valor Guard, the organization designed to prevent retreats on the battlefield, who “convinced” the airfield commander to spare some planes.

All this took time, though, so the wave of attack planes would be met on the coast itself, only a short distance from the airfields, instead of out over the water, and by hurriedly scrambled units. However, these were actual Air Force planes, Osean Su-65 air superiority fighters, instead of the outdated Coastal Command planes.

Operation Sustenance (Closed, ATTN comorostan)

Operation Sustenance (Closed, ATTN comorostan)

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