S1E1
EAST COAST CRISISSo there we stood, in the ruins our forefathers had toiled centuries to build. There was a serenity to it all, an inexplicable feeling that we were at home. War — our nation had been born in it, gorged upon it. Inevitably I knew in that moment it would drown in it, and yet it all felt serene. War was our way of life, after all. The treaties and guises of petty moralism by incompetent leader after incompetent leader had ultimately led to this final, animalistic outburst; a reminder of who we always were.
It was the summer of '34... I still remember when everything fell apart.—Unknown
It has been almost forty-five years since the collapse of the Federal States of Euphemie. Where the once powerful nation on Tsion once stood, now only ruins remain, testament to golden days long past. Torch City stands in the eastern coast a beacon of liberty against an authoritarian 'Federal Remnant' and the Atlantic Empire, formed by a rogue Federal Army general in the days after the Collapse and having since evolved to be a machine of mass murder and destruction that is uttered only in nervous whispers along the Atlantic coast. Even as Torch City lives in blissful separation from the conflicts of the former Federal States, it is more than obvious that the Atlantic Empire poses a serious threat to the Euphemian megalopolis. The Atlantic Empire's leadership is divided in the north by Honorius Starr Plastic-Love M. Powell, and in the south by his brother, Marcian Starr Plastic-Love M. Powell. This diarchy aspires towards nothing short of the conquest of all of Euphemie — and perhaps more, in a campaign of enslavement and war that threatens to burn a continent.
First in the sights of the Atlantic Empire is the United States of Engadine, the successor to Strickland's legacy. The union of former Euphemian states has been, until recently, largely unaffected by the conflict — until now. The Stenton Ridge, situated in the southern boundaries of Engadine, has been contested by the Empire, and it would seem that a conflict with the warmongering state was inevitable — and it would be. On January 2nd, 479, all hell broke loose in southern Engadine, the 67th Infantry "Gyrfalcons" and 296th Infantry "Year of the Cat" divisions of the Imperial Ground Forces beginning their invasion into the country. What will come of this conflict is yet to be seen, but it is perhaps the largest outburst of violence since the collapse of the Federal States in 434.
The 113rd Tactical Superiority Squadron has been established as a cooperative effort between the Metropolitan Aerospace Security Force's 33rd Fighter Wing and Flashpoint Defense, a subsidiary of Clancy Petrochemical. Due to their benefits of being legally 'unaffiliated' to the metropolitan government of Torch City, the 113rd is due to be put to the test — in the brewing conflict on the east coast between Engadine and the Atlantic Empire. If the Atlantic Empire suffers setbacks, it means more time bought for Torch City — when Morhatten lies only a few dozen miles away from the Atlantic Empire's own holdings, it becomes rather clear the stakes of this foray into a foreign conflict.
To this end, the mission will be one of ensuring the Atlantic Empire will be hit where it hurts — the largest steel mill in the country, or a nuclear power plant: the choice is open in this mission aimed at undercutting the Atlantic Empire's ability to threaten its neighbors. To this end, Engadine airspace has granted your forces free passage for the route of this attack.
East Coast Crisis, Act 1
Beale AFB
Amelia
Amelia StateTorch City
January 5, A.C. 479
10:00 AM EST
To call it a big day was to direly understate the significance of things to squadron leader Carol Kerokero 'Bonito' When-Doves-Cry J. Kaminsky. The 113rd Tactical Superiority Squadron was her responsibility, so to speak, though her flight hours were barely enough for her to even be considered for her current role. That wasn't to say, however, that she wasn't good at her job — it was her exemplary performance that merited the rank in the first place. Regardless of what'd brought her to where she was presently, it was fairly clear in the present moment that there was a job ahead of her.
The job in question lay in neatly-ordered, printed documents she'd spent the past two hours sifting through — it'd be pertinent to the briefing that was to come, with the squadron she'd newly been chosen to lead. Of course, she hadn't even been introduced to the unit in question yet — to which a few words exchanged was probably in order.
Office lights dimming with the flip of a switch as Carol paused by the exit, she took a moment to wonder to herself about just what lay ahead today — there was always a chance things could go wrong, but the promise of profit was always sufficiently enticing for her to keep going.
Beale AFB was home to the 33rd Fighter Wing's command structure, with squadrons being distributed among lesser airbases in the eastern Torch region. It was where the 113rd TSS was located as well, and by all means, it was a pretty decent place to spend listless days and nights in — although the TC nightlife was far more entertaining.
Quietly walking the corridors, she would soon be greeted by the sights outside on the way to the briefing space — an annex of the facility that had formerly been a hangar purposed towards housing the space shuttle Audacity (OV-423). Nowadays it served little use. Much of the former Euphemian space program had been privatized, most post-Euphemian states paying a form of 'tribute' to the Federal Aerospace Bureau (now an independent organization) that granted them access to the GLOSAT network and related systems.
Still the faded paint of the Euphemian flag adorned the side of the building, a somber reminder of past glory. A sigh escaped her before she quietly opened the door, being met with the empty vastness of the space within. Everything for the briefing was in order already — to which she needed only wait now for the others to show themselves as she idled by the propped-up whiteboard in the grand space. Introductions were in order, after all...
The first one to show up was the Secretary Squadron Leader, Cody Devil Speaks Can-You-Hear-Me-Calling Triple X Lincoln… an intriguing enough pilot, a little rough around the edges and carrying an accent that sounded enough like it was from Ironport, but at least according to the reports, someone that was decently smart both in and outside of the cockpit. Looks didn’t always match appearances - perhaps that was the case here. “Ah, so you’re the boss,” Cody said, shortly after entering the room. “I’m Cody… Y’know, the sec. squad lead.”
"That'd be me." Carol nodded. "Carol Kerokero 'Bonito' When-Doves-Cry J. Kaminsky. Guess we're in this one together."
“Well, I’ll do my best to be a decent assistant… long as you aren’t a hardass leader or anything,” Cody said with a chuckle, maybe giving an indication of his own preferences in leadership style. “Never been involved in leading anything before, though.”
"Fair enough, then." Carol answered with a nod — she didn't fancy herself to be that much a hardass, anyway. "I suppose it's waiting for the others now."
“Yeah, guess it is,” Cody remarked, walking further into the room and taking a seat to wait for the others.
It wouldn't be long until the next pilot would show their face — Hannah Dance-On-Your-Knees M. Zorić. Flowing chestnut hair and a stature only slightly shorter than Carol's own would be the first thing she'd notice, which warranted a bit of curiosity at the record of this particular pilot's last name...
"You the boss?" Zorić questioned.
"That'd be myself... Lincoln here is 2-I-C." replied Carol. "Pleasure to meet you."
"I'll be looking forward to some action in the sky." With that, Zorić walked past and situated herself, allowing the two executives of the squadron to anticipate more arrivals.
The next pilot seemed to have a slightly different aura as she entered the room - she was from a corporate upbringing, one that was tied to the very company they were employed by actually, and it seemed to show in the way she walked and carried herself. This was, of course, Macie Hundred Shooters I’m-Amazing Gray. “So this is my squadron,” she said upon entering and looking around, acting somewhat as if she expected the others to know who she was already. When she realized that she would indeed need to introduce herself, she spoke finally. “Macie Hundred Shooters I’m-Amazing Gray… at your service,” she said, sitting down.
The final member of the squadron would proceed to make her entry, the last pilot, Gryphon-5, being perhaps the most interesting member of the group. Elena Joséphine Marie Aurore Saint-d'Langogue Élisabeth Lecanuet was a member of the ‘third generation’ of the infamous Lecanuet dynasty, hailing from the seaside capital of rustic Pristio. Her last name seemed to be a permanent mark upon her, Elena’s last name forever singling her out as the descendant of the now dead Gallian emperor. She’d chosen this life of mercenary flying mainly out of boredom, living in relative opulence in Pristio was fine, but it just wasn’t exciting, certainly not action-packed, the sort of lifestyle she was seeking out.
"And this is, uhh.." Carol took a cursory glance to the documents she typically carried about her. "Unrelated to the Eric Lecanuet, I presume..."
“Well, uh...” The Lecanuet name didn’t exactly carry a good reputation anywhere in Ophir, really. Nevermind most of Mederum and Kir... “Never mind the name, I suppose.”
"He's a legend among those who live on the battlefield," Carol replied, studying the new arrival. "Most a mercenary could only dream of rising from practically nothing to an unparalleled hero of one's people."
Macie just shrugged at the conversation. “I dunno. Real can recognize real, and I think she’s the real thing,” she said nonchalantly.
“Well, I would be..” Elena specified. “Home’s boring.”
"My grandmother would tell stories of your grandfather..." Zorić mused, her attention turning to the new face in question.
“I never met him,” The ‘royal’ replied, turning towards Zorić. “It’s the only thing anyone thinks of when they hear Lecanuet, though.” She didn’t seem too eager to continue discussing her family at the moment, though, walking over to the remaining seat.
"Well, then..." Carol trailed off, beginning to the whiteboard and reaching for the remote — in a moment's notice a projector flickered to life, casting the image of a meticulously-crafted presentation onto the board. The briefing had begun. "Alright, everyone. This is our first day as a cohesive unit, yes, but this will also be our first field operation. By tonight — yes, tonight — we'll be making rounds over AE airspace and blowing shit up." She explained, bringing the focus of the presentation to the next slide.
"The 113rd Tactical Superiority Squadron has been established as a cooperative effort between the Metropolitan Aerospace Security Force's 33rd Fighter Wing and Flashpoint Defense, a subsidiary of Clancy Petrochemical. Due to their benefits of being legally 'unaffiliated' to the metropolitan government of Torch City, the 113rd is due to be put to the test — in the brewing conflict on the east coast between Engadine and the Atlantic Empire. If the Atlantic Empire suffers setbacks, it means more time bought for Torch City — when Morhatten lies only a few dozen miles away from the Atlantic Empire's own holdings, it becomes rather clear the stakes of this foray into a foreign conflict. To this end, the mission will be one of ensuring the Atlantic Empire will be hit where it hurts — the largest steel mill in the country, or a nuclear power plant: the choice is open in this mission aimed at undercutting the Atlantic Empire's ability to threaten its neighbors. To this end, Engadine airspace has granted us free passage for the route of this attack. Due to the nature of our orders, we are free to determine which is of a greater priority once we are within range. Any questions?"
“When exactly will we be deciding on the target? On the ground or while we’re in the AO?” Cody questioned, as Macie remained silent for now.
"Once we ascertain which facility is safer to attack." Carol replied. "The last thing the Company — or Command, for that matter — wants, is, well... a lost airframe hundreds of miles deep into Imperial territory."
“Very well, then. I’d think this mission is important enough to cut corners a bit on safety… but I can understand it. Nothing more from my end,” Cody nodded.
Noting there were no questions beyond Cody's own, Carol gave a nod. "Alright. We take off at 1600 hours. Be ready."
East Coast Crisis, Act 2
Beale AFB
Amelia
Amelia State
January 5, A.C. 479
4:00 PM EST
The time had come. Few words were exchanged — few needed to be, anyway. The mission lay ahead of them now, a factual matter Carol was more than aware of as she climbed aboard her aircraft, an ASF-471 Zephyr that carried the name Private Caller inscribed by the side of the cockpit exterior. Canopy opening with mechanical and hydraulic hums, she climbed aboard, sliding the helmet on and beginning the usual pre-flight procedures.
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[Beale AFB] [ATC] "Run prelim checks."
[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "Prelim checks complete."
[ASF-471 Zephyr #067 "Voyageuse"] [Gryphon-5] “Prelim... complete.”
[ASF-471 Zephyr #111 "Rusalka"] [Gryphon-3] "Prelim complete!"
[TF-59 Snow Lynx #132 "Casanova" ] [Gryphon-4] “Prelim complete.”
[ASF-471 Zephyr #105 "Devildog"] [Gryphon-2] “Prelim complete, all good over here.”
It didn't take long for the actual takeoff preparations to commence, Carol taxiing her aircraft onto the main runway as the engines reached a crescendo. Given the urban surroundings of the place, takeoffs and landings were an incredibly challenging task at times. To Carol, though, it was merely part of the adventure. The screeching howl of the engines reached a crescendo as the Zephyr kicked forward, soon rocketing across the runway and making a graceful ascent.
The myriad skyscrapers numbered below as Carol weaved through the clouds, her aircraft leaving in its wake a light contrail. Soon enough the rest of the squadron would follow suit, the practically endless Torch City skyline below decorating the scene below. Electronic billboards decorated the urban sprawl, product advertisements plastered onto the occasional dirigible looming above the vast metropolitan expanse.
It wouldn't take long before they were flying past the Morhatten peninsula within Torch City, the hyperurbanized heart of the Euphemian megalopolis glistening under the afternoon sun.
This was home. It wasn't much in the grand scheme of things — her own house, somewhere in the midst of that vast skyscraper-lined horizon, was nothing more than a cramped apartment, but it was something she could count on as always being distinctly hers.
The most distinct feature of Morhatten proper were the four towering skyscrapers that comprised the Atlantic Economic Center. At night it was a beacon of liberty amidst the darkness, the beam of light projected from 3 AEC's spire being the most powerful beam of light in the world, succeeding the beacons cast from the various monuments in Serondequot. Serondequot was nothing more than irradiated ruins now, of course — a distant, desolate splotch of grey amidst the urban vastness that otherwise stretched across the entire land.
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[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "Old Serondequot... where it all began."
[ASF-471 Zephyr #105 "Devildog"] [Gryphon-2] “And apparently, where it ended too…”
[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "Defeating the AE is hopefully the first step to setting things right..."
The once-proud capital of the Federal States of Euphemie, laid to waste by atomic hellfire all those decades ago... Carol could only imagine how terrible it'd been as she glanced north over the horizon. The tragedy that had consumed the Federal States was a story that preceded her own time, of course. She was only twenty-five, the conflicts all around her being ones that had begun long before she'd breathed her first gasp of air.
Soon this vast urban expanse would give way to snow-capped, cloud-veiled mountains upon the boundaries of Torch state, Engadine's airspace awaiting them just beyond.
The Emperor of the North
Palace of the Northern Star
Hyperion
ProvidenceAtlantic Empire
January 5, A.C. 479
5:30 PM EST
Providence had once been the irradiated backwater of the Federal States, permanently in Torch City's shadow over the centuries. It had taken three centuries to rebuild it, the last rad-fields being cleared by the time of the Transatlantic War. Hyperion had been but a mid-size town during the days of the decadent 'regimen immutata est pristini' — the days before the Second Euphemian Revolution.
After General August Starr Plastic-Love M. Powell had declared the Revolution in the aftermath of the Collapse, it had been seized and transformed into the living, breathing heart of the Empire. The Palace of the Northern Star had been built over the ruins of the Providence state capitol, a towering statue of the Great General looming above the adjacent administrative structures situated in the vast palace's palace. Many gene-helots had perished to create a structure worthy of a new, reborn Euphemie.
Once General Powell had perished of old age, his conquests had been divided between his two sons — establishing an Atlantic Empire in the north, comprising mostly Euphemian holdings, and the Atlantic Empire in the south, comprising August's Alvimian conquests. They operated as a single cohesive unit, however, and were a formidable force.
It was from his chambers overlooking the great imperial city of Hyperion that the Emperor of the North, Honorius Starr Plastic-Love M. Powell, pondered the future. The chambers in question had been fashioned in traditional, almost Solaran architecture, with modern aspects complementing the traditionalism of the Atlantic Empire. Silently, he watched the city below through reinforced bulletproof-glass windows, taking the occasional cursory glance to the Colonel Mark Schroeder marble bust that decorated the room. The man was a Saint within the Imperial pantheon, the Atlantic Empire's own interpretation of Euphemianism. What would a hero like him have done in a situation like this?
Far in the distance he could see the IAS Westland, formerly CVN-127, now CVN-01, making its way out of port. She was the pride of the fleet, carrying about her the most advanced artificial intelligence the pre-collapse minds of the Federal States could have conceived.
The conquest of the Stenton Ridge was the natural next step of the Empire's reconquest of the Federal States. Engadine was but a mere heresy, bound to the personality cult of a bygone President. Honorius aspired that one day this rebellious state's people would be enlightened to the truth, the Euphemian Truth, unshackled by delusions of autonomy and Strickland cultism and capable of joining the Atlantic Empire in their wayward reconquest of the homeland.
The sound of footsteps would rouse Honorius's attention, the northern Emperor turning around to see General Mark One-Lion's-Roar D. Braai, commander of the 296th Infantry "Year of the Cat" Division. The man had fought alongside his father in the conquests that followed after the Second Euphemian Revolution. The man was his father's protege, but had outlived him and become among the most experienced generals in the imperial general staff.
"Has the offensive begun?" Honorius questioned.
"..that is what I was to discuss with you, yes. My division is due to make its own advance to assist frontline forces within the coming hours. I will be flying to our territories in southern Torch soon enough, and from there I will personally oversee to it that the Empire achieves nothing short of victory." replied Braai. "I humbly enter your presence to ask that you show mercy on the Engadinian people. Their civilians have done no wrong."
"Our campaign will be a blessed one, general. You have my permission to follow the old sacred texts of the Rules of War." Honorius assured the old general. The man had fought in many campaigns, long before Honorius himself walked Tsion. The man had his reasons to be merciful, as he had seen more war than Honorius himself could imagine.
"Thank you, your imperial highness. The time is coming for the great reunification of our people. This war will not wait on me... I will make haste. Ave!" With a straight, raised hand, the general gave Honorius an imperial salute before taking his leave.
Honorius was sure to offer his regards before the man reached the door, of course. "May Saint Brynn guide your pursuit of our Manifest Destiny. Ave!"
East Coast Crisis, Act 3
Engadine Airspace
Near Trout
Heartland StateUnited States of Engadine
January 5, A.C. 479
6:00 PM EST
The sights of farmland seemed to drag on forever in these parts, save for the distant sight of the capital of Heartland State, Trout. It was almost alien to a Torch City native to see this much farmland, stretching off almost endlessly on into the horizon. This was the Euphemian breadbasket, the heart of the former Federal States. Carol could only imagine the neverending fields of wheat below. It wasn't something she'd really put much thought into until she'd seen it herself.
Traveling on south was the Engadine River, extending from Engadine all the way to AE-occupied Los Imperios. It was one of the larger rivers in Euphemie, to which one could only lament the coming riverine conflict that the crisis in the east coast would inevitably bring about. Many people would perish in the tribulations of conflict to come — that was a given with any war, of course, but something about this hit close to home. Sure, they were separated by borders, differing political views and more... but they were all Euphemian, in the end.
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[ASF-471 Zephyr #111 "Rusalka"] [Gryphon-3] "We're a long way out of Torch..."
[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "Keep your eyes on the radar, ladies and gentlemen."
Passing Trout, they would near the state line into Lathrop, just ahead on the horizon. It'd been the heart of Euphemie's coal mines and heavy industries, saved by President Neworder from the woes of deindustrialization. Now it was the industrial heart of the Atlantic Empire, a faint orange haze to the south from the sheer scale of the industrial pollution at play.
The silence of this gradual approach would be interrupted by the radio once again — paired with a realization...
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[ASF-471 Zephyr #067 "Voyageuse"] [Gryphon-5] “Contacts, on radar. About... eight.”
[TF-59 Snow Lynx #132 "Casanova"] [Gryphon-4] “Sounds delightful…”
...this was going to be her first dogfight. With little hesitation she locked onto the aircraft in question — identified soon thereafter to be F/A-127D2 Advanced Vampire fighter aircraft... Imperial Air Force.
This would be the first time she'd fired a missile in a deliberate act of aggression. She had to admit to herself, she was feeling pretty excited about it all.
We're in the big leagues now... or something like that. She thought to herself, a smirk creeping its way onto her features. Given the sun setting over the west, there was an almost cinematic aura to the entire show — this could very well be her moment in the spotlight.
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[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "Fox-3!"
Two AAM-472 ARGO Ultra Blk IX missiles would fire away, followed by two AAM-469 Super Comet Blk IV missiles. Their contrails would disappear into the horizon as they tracked their targets.
Quietly Carol watched the radar screen with anticipation...
It seemed the two ARGOs had veered off at first, only for them to regain their bearings and pursue their targets. The pilot silently anticipated the result, muttering to herself as the game playing out upon the glowing radar screen played out in her mind.
Feedback was quick to be relayed to the fighter aircraft, the missiles in question returning the report that the enemy fighters in question were deploying ECM — to which the missiles had about them Home On Jam (HOJ) capabilities. It was a split second, but in that time she'd abruptly wiped three F/A-127D2 Advanced Vampire fighters off the map.
Holy shit! She could hardly contain her excitement as she double-checked, then triple-checked. Carol had scored not one, but three air-to-air kills on her first day on the field.
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[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "Three down, five to go."
Not waiting any longer, Cody took action and slewed the crosshairs over one and then another enemy fighter on the radar, targeting both of them and pressing on the release button to send a pair of ARGO missiles their way, the missiles streaking off in the direction of the pair of nearby fighters before losing the lock due to the enemy’s ECM… at least, it lost the lock temporarily. The technology they were working with here was good, and in this case, it secured the kills as the advanced missiles were able to find the lock once more, the first one hitting near the center of the jet and making a flashy explosion of fuel and ammunition, the latter exploding close enough to its target to send a plume of black smoke out of the fighter, its pilot ejecting.
The time it'd taken for the enemy to get within visual range was just enough time for Zorić to get firing — and in a moment's notice, the last three of the aircraft had been obliterated as her own aircraft, Rusalka, effortlessly soared past.
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[ASF-471 Zephyr #111 "Rusalka"] [Gryphon-3] "Didn't even break a sweat! ..thank Neworder we're alright.."
[ASF-471 Zephyr #105 "Devildog"] [Gryphon-2] “I’d expect nothin’ less from a child of the atom.”
[TF-59 Snow Lynx #132 "Casanova" ] [Gryphon-4] “Leave something for me next time, sweetheart.”
[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "Nothing else on radar. I think it'll be smooth sailing for now."
[ASF-471 Zephyr #067 "Voyageuse"] [Gryphon-5] “For now.”
Continuing on south towards Lathrop, it became rather apparent by the sheer scale of destruction on the surface that a battle on the ground was ongoing. The billowing smoke seemed to source far more from the imperial side of the border... giving perhaps the indication that the military of Engadine was fairing rather well against the Atlantic Empire's own armies.
War was upon the Euphemian east coast, and there was nothing now that could be done to stop, mitigate or prevent it. The journey continued onward, the Engadine River drawing near...
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[Flashpoint Defense - Executive Authority] "We've received new orders from the Metropolitan Security Authority's high command."
[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "Go ahead."
[Flashpoint Defense - Executive Authority] "Imperial forces are using the old President Stardust State Bridge to mount a counteroffensive against Engadine forces. You have been granted permission to use, however appropriate, your armaments towards destroying the bridge. Out."
[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "You heard him!"
[ASF-471 Zephyr #067 "Voyageuse"] [Gryphon-5] “I feel inclined to handle this...”
Carol’s comrade, the one particularly interesting pilot with the surname of Lecanuet would proceed to expedite both of her AGM-461G Super Gundogs, the standoff missiles rocketing towards the Engadine River. The formation of armored vehicles, more like darkened bread crumbs from up here in the skies, proved to be a helpful indicator for just where their target was. After a rather strenuous period of anxious waiting, two explosion clouds rocked the ground below them, orangish-yellow plumes rising accompanied by black and grey smoke covering what remained of the President Stardust State Bridge.
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[ASF-471 Zephyr #111 "Rusalka"] [Gryphon-3] "God damn!"
[ASF-471 Zephyr #067 "Voyageuse"] [Gryphon-5] “There’s no longer much of a President Stardust bridge... their AA down there didn’t even get to fire.”
Soaring past the devastation that had been left in Voyageuse's wake, the band of fighters continued onward, crossing forth into Lathrop.
As they did, however, a warning klaxon would bring Carol's train of thought to a complete halt. Enemy anti-air sites on the ground were firing on them — and now everything came down to how quick she'd react. The MIM-151 Jingo had served the old Federal States of Euphemie well — and it seemed the Atlantic Empire had no shortage of old Euphemian weaponry to utilize.
Shit, shit, shit... Her mind turned immediately to countermeasures — the aircraft had already gotten to deploying DECM, which was doing little to dissuade the oncoming guided missile. Without hesitation she deployed the two towed decoys of the aircraft, narrowly evading the oncoming missile as if by a hair, the missile uselessly rocketing past to detonate amidst the clouds.
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[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "We don't have time for this! Keep going!"
Cody was also under attack from the enemy SAM site, one missile headed his way - but that one missile still had the potential to be quite a problem. Only took one missile to take someone out, and this one wasn’t going away even with evasive moves and defensive ECM… Looking at the radar screen and the distances, and the rate that the missile was closing, Cody estimated that there were only… a few more seconds before the missile would pass the point of no return, so to speak, where it couldn’t be evaded. Thinking quickly, the pilot went to the aircraft’s decoys, accelerating with afterburners at the same time and watching the radar screen to see the outcome… the missile contact disappeared, fortunately enough, showing that the decoys had worked. Although it had been too close of a call for comfort...
Continuing on deeper into the skies over Lathrop, they were greeted by the typical industrial miseria one would expect of such a place. In the decades since the Atlantic Empire had carved its way through these lands, the state of Lathrop had been entirely repurposed towards the mass production of imperial war machines, along with the brunt of the Atlantic Empire's steel and coal production.
Carol could only grimly wonder about the work conditions down there. The Atlantic Empire set itself apart from the other post-Euphemian states in that it had a system of chattel slavery, its victims known as 'gene-helots', or 'generational helots'. These slaves were largely acquired from the victims of Atlantic Empire raids on Muscoga, Augusta, Itabiriti and Engadine. Unlike with Torch City, the Atlantic Empire saw free reign in its less defended neighbor states, to which a steady source of industrial output slaves and concubinage for the military's officer component was easy to find.
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[ASF-471 Zephyr #067 "Voyageuse"] [Gryphon-5] “More enemy contacts on radar. Uh.. four of them. These are looking like Chiangshis to me.”
[TF-59 Snow Lynx #132 "Casanova"] [Gryphon-4] “Well shit, maybe I’ll get to shoot something this time.”
[ASF-471 Zephyr #111 "Rusalka"] [Gryphon-3] "A Chiangshi? The odds seem to be stepping up.."
Carol wasn't particularly intent on firing just yet — conserving missiles would be vital to the road ahead, for sure. The rest of her squadron could fulfill that task aptly, of course.
Cody took a pair of Comet shots at the enemy formation up ahead but there was no luck - both of the missiles never quite found the mark, disappearing into the clouds and eventually dropping off radar without hitting anything. “Damn it…” the pilot muttered, looking down at the screens within the cockpit to make sure that everything was functional - it looked like this was just bad luck, though, rather than a weapons or plane problem.
Rusalka would be next to open fire, two missiles trailing away over the horizon, towards the enemy formation. Carol's radar would confirm her squadronmate's kill a few seconds later, and in another moment they'd entered visual range — revealing Rusalka had managed to take out one of the Chiangshis. A bright flash would cross over the horizon — Rusalka's mounted AAL-486 Tactical Laser System. It was the only aircraft in the unit to carry such a thing, the weapon only truly operable within visual range — but it was a formidable device. The success of the hit would be confirmed as the beam bathed one of the imperial Chiangshi fighter aircraft in light, a flaming husk spiraling down to the surface in the aftermath.
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[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "Ho-lee SHIT!"
[ASF-471 Zephyr #067 "Voyageuse"] [Gryphon-5] “God damn!”
Deciding to chase some glory for herself after a relatively quiet outing so far, Macie took aim using two of the Brushstroke missiles within her internal weapons bay - the bay popped open and two missiles fired shortly afterwards, heading towards the target with one of them staying on course despite evasive moves, the ECM failing to stop the missile either as it was guided to its target and smashed into the enemy plane, shearing the left wing off. “Fuck yes,” muttered Macie, pumping her fist from within the cockpit. It had, after all, been her first kill in the air.
One enemy Chiangshi still remained in the air, though, and given the squadron’s track record so far during the mission, letting this one fighter even have the opportunity to retaliate was completely unnecessary, not to mention it’d break a perfectly good streak. So, then, Gryphon-5 would task herself with downing the last plane, one of many that most post-Collapse Euphemian states had access to. Firing off the two of her AAM-472 ARGO Ultra Blk IX missiles available to her, the weapons would fly off towards their unfortunate victim.
In this situation, the Chiangshi’s ECM would kick in. Back in the day, its ability to slug off missiles was near legendary - Zorić’s grandmother could provide more than enough testimony to this. At first, it’s efforts would seem to be working, but the technology of these missiles had only advanced in the last half-century. Unsurprising, then, that the lone blip on Voyageuse’s radar would disappear.
SUTTON HILLS OPERATING SYSTEM 1.1 - MIL ISSUE
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[ASF-471 Zephyr #067 "Voyageuse"] [Gryphon-5] “Last plane down...”
[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "Those Chiangshis were king of the sky once..."
[ASF-471 Zephyr #111 "Rusalka"] [Gryphon-3] "Now, not so much."
For Carol, on the other hand, it was a relieving thought — one she had to quickly snap out of as radar warnings let them know in advance of enemy anti-aircraft missiles firing from the ground. With a quick maneuver, she'd brought most of the squadron on a trajectory that led them behind one of the mountains of Lathrop, the Jingo surface-to-air missiles briefly cut off by the mountain peak, explosions dotting the rocks behind them as they traversed onward through the mountainous industrial state. Mega-mines dotted the mountains, highways below busy with 18 wheelers ferrying all sorts of industrial-grade materials to whereever logistics demanded it be.
Then the city of Kerouac Valley came into view — it had been transformed into a monster of industrial production since it had been secured by the Atlantic Empire in prior decades, the faint haze of orange-reddish smog being the most notable factor about the city covered in factories, refineries and various other industrial and logistical complexes comprising much of the urban megacenter, flanked here and there by mega-apartment blocks that were depressing to even look at, especially with the sun having set and mere faint afterglow residing in its wake.
Now came the time to decide — hit the Atlantic Empire's industry, or hit its power grid further south.
SUTTON HILLS OPERATING SYSTEM 1.1 - MIL ISSUE
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[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "I'm liking the prospect of Kiehl Oaks Nuclear Power Plant."
[ASF-471 Zephyr #067 "Voyageuse"] [Gryphon-5] “Nothing here seems to last very long without electricity...”
With that, Carol brought her Zephyr to rise above, the city scenery below disappearing into the clouds as the formation set course south. Kiehl Oaks had, in the days of the Federal States, been a closed city purposed towards research and the nuclear power plant in Kiehl Oaks. It was a miracle of its time, and nothing short of that. It powered much of the Atlantic Empire's northern holdings, especially in Lathrop and former Torch state — not to be confused with independent Torch City.
It was a brief journey through the clouds, passing strip-mined mountaintops and quaint wooded valleys as they made their way south to the closed city. In a matter of minutes it came into view, planned grid-streets and neatly-ordered apartment blocks and suburban housing a signature of planned Euphemian urban design. This was your average, perhaps even ideal place to live — save for the massive facility that loomed ominously just a bit further south.
SUTTON HILLS OPERATING SYSTEM 1.1 - MIL ISSUE
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[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "Welcome to Kiehl Oaks. This might as well be what's keeping the lights on around these parts... Gryphon-2, you know what to do, right?"
[ASF-471 Zephyr #105 "Devildog"] [Gryphon-2] “We’ll see what two Gundogs does to this place…”
[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "Greyhound away."
Firing away both AGM-461 Super Gundog cruise missiles, Carol watched the two missiles trail off across the horizon, bound for their respective targets — Reactor 3 and its cooling tower. In a matter of seconds it would connect with its target, two bright explosions erupting on the horizon as she conducted a split-S maneuver and disengaged, beginning west as the rest would be left to her second-in-command.
Cody prepared to send both of the standoff weapons towards the power plant, taking aim and locking onto the second reactor, waiting until the angle was a bit more favorable before focusing on keeping the nose straight for the last few seconds before launch, eventually pressing the release button and watching the two weapons sail towards their target before pulling up, one of the Super Gundogs hitting the mark while the other one went off target - one of them was enough to take the structure down, though, the second reactor collapsing after the impact from the missile.
Pulling up following the precision strike, Cody narrowly avoided the sound of the warning tones that came with low terrain, moving to join up with the rest of the formation while picking up altitude to avoid any defenses that might be based on the ground in this area - was never a good idea to fly low over enemy territory, and they had just struck a high value target after all.
The cascade effect all around them was almost immediate as they began west on their return path, much of Lathrop now shrouded in darkness as the power outage spread across the area, much akin to a cascade effect. Things in these parts had been brought to a halt, as far as Carol was concerned.
SUTTON HILLS OPERATING SYSTEM 1.1 - MIL ISSUE
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[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "Epic."
[ASF-471 Zephyr #067 "Voyageuse"] [Gryphon-5] “This’ll shake things up. I don’t think we’re gonna want to see how they feel, though...”
Soon they were traversing north, bound to cross into Engadine airspace once again. Lathrop's mountains and valleys could be much more easily appreciated when not doused in the light pollution, of course. There was a certain peace to this northbound trip, one that couldn't easily be explained. Looking on at the peaceful darkness below, Carol couldn't help but feel a little bored — to which a bit of radio perusing came handy.
SUTTON HILLS OPERATING SYSTEM 1.1 - MIL ISSUE
CHANNEL WVEC-AM
[Your Host] [David Loving-in-this-Moonlight K. Ridgeford] "Now, lemme tell you somethin' about what's going on, because I tell you h'what, you sure's hell not gonna hear it in anywhere else. I'm a Lathrop man, born n' raised — same's my father, and my father's father. I've— lemme say this, I've received reports from very trustworthy sources that whatever's happenin' in Kiehl Oaks is no 'accident'. Now, the guv'ment can come knockin', I've done my part n' served the Empire already. I ain't doin' nothin' wrong by telling you this. Now I've been preparin' for something like this for years folks, and it all lines up. The fighting up north, the losses — Engadine's hit us hard and they mean war, folks. And to the ((Kaelics)) pullin' the strings of it all, I know your endgame. WE know your endgame! We're not gonna stand up for it, god damnit! Euphemian patriots, the case before us is clear here and now! Engadine Air Force, here today, causing another Dysnome Incident! Now ain't that just crazy? Oh, but we'll show them the what for!"—
The conspiratorial ranting dragged on a bit further, the radio host's rather gruff voice being mildly comedic to listen to as he grasped at strings in trying to imply the Kaelics were somehow behind the conflict at hand. These types weren't all too uncommon out in the backwaters of the former Federal States, after all.
This brief comedic relief would be swiftly and abruptly interrupted, however, as the warning klaxons came to life — another MIM-151 anti-air site somewhere amidst the mountains was poised to fire — five missiles were incoming. Quickly activating DECM as she maneuvered to evade, she watched as the missile in question uselessly careened into the face of one of the mountain peaks below, casting down a plume of dust and debris in the process.
Holy shit... Carol had almost been caught off guard by this one, the aircraft thankfully being just a tad quicker than she was. The same couldn't be said about some of her fellow pilots, however.
While Cody had managed to avoid all of the AA fire the first time they’d been shot at, that wasn’t going to be the case the second time. Evasive moves and decoys combined failed to shake off the trailing missile that came from the ground site, although careful moves with the stick were able to change the point of damage - it wasn’t a fatal blow, but the explosion of the missile did do something to the systems, cutting off the data sensors apparently and causing some malfunctions. It was still a blow to their unit… If they ran into more hostiles, it’d be much harder or impossible to fight like this.
SUTTON HILLS OPERATING SYSTEM 1.1 - MIL ISSUE
CHANNEL 113TSS
[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "Gryphon-2, SITREP!"
[ASF-471 Zephyr #105 "Devildog"] [Gryphon-2] “Data sensors fucked up… dunno about fighting anymore like this.”
[ASF-471 Zephyr #111 "Rusalka"] [Gryphon-3] "Wait a sec— oh FUCK!"
From the cockpit Carol could see one of the missiles had detonated dangerously close to Rusalka, briefly shaking the aircraft as the group of fighters hastily continued northward. Things could've been worse, one could figure. The northern reaches of Lathrop state were slowly giving way to Engadine once more, the distant lights of Newmuntown along the Stenton Lakes visible in the distance.
It was peaceful, almost — the evergreen forests under the moonlight, complemented the almost calming darkness that spanned much of Lathrop now in the aftermath of the Kiehl Oaks attack.
SUTTON HILLS OPERATING SYSTEM 1.1 - MIL ISSUE
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[ASF-471 Zephyr #067 "Voyageuse"] [Gryphon-5] “Eight enemy air contacts, Engadine side of the border! We’ve fucking gotten the hornet’s nest...”
[TF-59 Snow Lynx #132 "Casanova" ] [Gryphon-4] “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”
Macie remained calm even in the intense situation, as the enemy contacts approached rapidly - her mind shifted states, and she felt herself hyperfocusing on the passage of time. More specifically, on the gap between her own plane and the enemy contacts, and how fast that gap was shrinking. It told her how much time she’d have to fire, and how many missiles to use at the moment. Deciding that the best move was to deal a large blow before the enemy came too close, she made the decision to fire four missiles - two ARGOs, two Brushstrokes.
The missiles disappeared into the clouds, searching for their targets, and her eyes flicked to the radar screen which showed roughly where the contacts were… one by one, four of the hostile contacts disappeared from the radar. Wasn’t as flashy as getting kills up close and seeing the explosion, but the enemies dropping off the radar at the same time as her missiles indicated the same thing. She’d added four kills and managed to get ace status on her first outing.
Meanwhile, on Voyageuse’s end, a similar tactic was repeated with the firing of all four of her AAM-469 Super Comet Blk IV missiles towards the enemy. After this, she supposed, it would just be Engadine airspace, most likely secure given the pummeling that the Atlantic Empire had taken. Launching off said missiles towards the enemy, they of course employed their various countermeasures and ploys. At the end, only one missile of the four had gotten through, managing to reduce the number of radar contacts to three. The Chiangshi, of course, could still put up resistance.
Deciding to put caution to the wind, she resorted next to her two AAM-11X Brushstrokes, the two missiles mounted on her wing pylons flying off in the same direction. In the cockpit, some mild cussing would follow as both missiles were thrown off by the three-plane group, leaving her out of action for this.
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[ASF-471 Zephyr #067 "Voyageuse"] [Gryphon-5] “I’m dry on missiles.”
Quickly enough, Rusalka would sweep in, dumping its remaining two ARGO and two Comet missiles on the enemy fighters. Two Chiangshis would be disposed of right off the bat, sending the third manically attempting to evade. Quickly Rusalka got the upper hand, closely tailing behind the Chiangshi fighter in a brief struggle of maneuvers in the sky.
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CHANNEL AEFOR [DECRYPTED]
[F/A-130D Chiangshi #1084] [Mithras-3] "Who the hell are these people?"—
In another moment, the last Chiangshi would be promptly disposed of in a flash of light as Zorić utilized Rusalka's mounted AAL-486 TLS, laying the fighter aircraft to waste and sending it spiraling down into the abyss below. It was smooth sailing from here now, it seemed. Engadine airspace welcomed them soon enough, which left Carol mildly surprised. They'd actually managed to get through it all in one piece... it'd been an incredibly stressing first experience as squadron leader, but that wasn't something she was about to admit before her coworkers. Stoicism often came with the job, one could suppose.
We're out of this mess... She thought to herself.
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[ASF-471 Zephyr #111 "Rusalka"] [Gryphon-3] "Holy shit, we fucking did it!"
[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "..Yeah. Drinks on me this time, I guess."
[ASF-471 Zephyr #105 "Devildog"] [Gryphon-2] “What a mission…”
[ASF-471 Zephyr #111 "Rusalka"] [Gryphon-3] "No kidding!"
[TF-59 Snow Lynx #132 "Casanova" ] [Gryphon-4] “And I’m an ace now…”
[ASF-471 Zephyr #067 "Voyageuse"] [Gryphon-5] “Good starts, huh?”
[ASF-471 Zephyr #098 "Private Caller"] [Gryphon-1] "Wouldn't have it any other way..."
The Old General
Fort Valentinian
New Pembroke City
Torch State
January 5, A.C. 479
9:30 PM EST
The start of the issues for general Mark One-Lion's-Roar D. Braai had begun the moment he'd dismounted from the E-9 Airborne Command Center. The 799th Infantry "Cherchez La Femme" Division had suffered setbacks in their fight in the north, incompetence largely to blame — paired with a precision strike, allegedly by the Engadine Air Force, targeting the President Stardust State Bridge. That wasn't the only action the Engadine Air Force was responsible for. Kiehl Oaks Nuclear Power Plant had been severely damaged, reactors two and three disabled in the process — something that had engulfed much of the northern holdings of the Atlantic Empire in darkness.
Being escorted into the command room, Braai was quickly met with resounding "Ave!"s as his subordinate officers saluted him, greeting his entry. The 296th Infantry "Year of the Cat" Division was the largest division in the Imperial Ground Forces, and among the other five directly descended from the former Federal Army.
One of his subordinates was quick to speak up. "Do you require a briefing on the situation, si—"
"No." replied Braai. "Relay my orders to this Division's regiments in the north. We will commence a renewed offensive. Newmuntown will be ours."
"Understood."
"Hand me the Division's order of battle," He instructed, standing by the table as he glanced down to the flickering, glowing tactical map computer situated at the center of the command room. One of his aides would comply soon enough, handing him a paper which he quickly perused through.
"Is something the matter with this unit's organization, sir?" Another one of his subordinates questioned.
"As a matter of fact, yes. How many local citizen divisions are in the region?"
"Twenty-six."
Braai briefly hesitated before nodding. "As it stands, I am now military governor of West Torch. The 296th Infantry "Year of the Cat" Division numbers at 38,580 — better fitting a corps than a Division. The 296th Infantry Division will henceforth be Legio I 'Atlantica'. All nearby citizen divisions will be merged into this new military formation, roughly equivalent to a field army in purpose. The Empire is in dire need of reorganization — otherwise we would have not been caught so terribly off-guard."
People's Republic of Sinica | 华夏人民共和国
Mountain Republic of Bravoguc
Northeast Government | "The Federal Remnant"
