Austria-Bohemia-Hungary wrote:April 15th, 2021 - Madrid Air Base, Hispania
The first thing the airbase personnel saw was not a Witch on her final approach but a BAe Dominie of the Imperial Fusō Navy. Its hull in anti-flash white gleamed in the Hispanic sunshine as it descended, touching down with a gentle noise as the wheels gripped the ground. Braking in and taxiing to its designated position, the Britannian-made liaison aircraft came to a halt, and opened its port-side door to disembark a youngish and short officer of the Navy in its white summer dress, complete with a skirt, her dark-brown hair cut short to her neck.
Midshipman Chiyo Furuya had not slept in at least 24 hours, having gone through IFNAS Atsugi, Singapore Changi, Dubai, and now Madrid in a day. Blinking hard in a valiant effort to keep sleep away and almost blinded by the brilliant sunshine Furuya managed to locate her superior officer, or at least who her transfer papers told her it was after some effort. Walking past the SRU's (Striker Retaining Units) briskly, her luggage trundling along behind her, Chiyo Furuya, Kaigun Shōii Kohosei of the Imperial Fusō Navy introduced herself to Alice Webley, Warrant Officer of the Royal Air Force with a crisp salute and a:
"Good Morning, Ma'am. Chiyo Furuya, Midshipman, Imperial Fusō Navy, Reporting."
APRIL 15TH, 2021 - MadridIt was a bit surprising, to say the least.
One of the last things Alice expected was a full-sized aircraft to arrive, nevermind a Brittanian liason. The deep whine of low-bypass turbines rumbled through the morning calm, the first sign of new arrivals. She had read the documents-- 2-3 Fusoans would be arriving this morning, one of them Navy, the rest Army. Subsequently, she had heard rumors that Fusoan Navy witches got better treatment, so maybe this was a proof-of-concept.
As the aircraft taxiied to one of the larger aircraft designated hangars, the Brittanian watched as a Fusoan girl emerged with quite the luggage haul, as the other witch simultaneously made her landing. Nevertheless, the Brittanian continued to stand there, and took a sip of her coffee as the Fusoan saluted, introducing herself.
Noticing her brisk salute despite obvious signs of tiredness, Alice raised an eyebrow. Maybe she had forgotten? Or were things different in her country? Regardless, the brown-haired girl snapped a salute back, though she spoke as soon as her hand went down.
“And a good morning to you, Midshipman. I know you probably don’t want to hear this after you just got done with what I can only assume was a miserable series of flights, but just so you remember, you don’t have to salute me on the flightline.”
Finorskia wrote:Gunso, Yamda Yuki
Madrid Airbase, Hispania
April 15th, 2021Followed shortly behind the Fusō Navy liaison aircraft came a Fusōnese witch decked out in the red and white uniform of the Imperial Fusō Army. Sergeant Yuki Yamada yawned in exhaustion as the landing wheels of her F-15J striker unit made contact with the tarmac.
"Flying escort for the Navy. Jeez, why couldn't they provide their own escorts instead of making me do it for the whole journey," the 15 year old Yuki complained as she taxied towards the Striker retaining unit. "So what if she outranks me, it's a fairly large plane. I'm sure there was plenty of room in there for me and my striker as well," Yuki continued to grumble as she tossed her bow and quiver to the closest technician. "Four airports including this one, FOUR!" she thrust her hand with 4 outstretched fingers in the technicians face. There was a mechanical thud as the retainers locking mechanism activated. "I've been flying this thing for nearly twenty four hours straight with minimal food and drink. This is some kind of sick joke, it's just not fair. It's not fair right?" she asked the tech.
"I...uh. that sounds pretty unfair," the tech uneasily laughed, unsure of how to deal with the crazy Fusōnese witch.
"Right! And that navy witch got to spend the whole flight in her cozy plane. I mean Gaaaahhhhh I just want to punch her," Yuki exasperatedly tugged at her shoulder length black hair.
"Right..." the technicians voice trialed off. "Good luck with that...Anyway, you might want to shut your striker down. I can't imagine idling like that is good for your magic consumption. I don't think the tarmac likes it very much either."
"Eh," Yuki cocked her head to one side in confusion. The technician pointed down to Yuki's striker. She followed the technicians finger with her eyes to gentle blue glow of magical energy being cast from the thrust nozzles on her striker. "EHHHHHHHHH!" she yelled in embarrassment, as she quickly shut down her Striker. "I'm so sorry I don't normally do that," Yuki said bowing repeatedly to the technician.
"It's alright...really," the technician replied with another nervous chuckle.
"Anyway, would you mind pointing me towards the CO?" Yuki asked the technician after she eventually stopped apologizing.
"You'll find Warrant Officer Webley over there on the flight line," the technician pointed in the direction of Alice as Yuki pulled herself out of her striker and onto the retaining unit.
"Thank you sir," Yuki said as she jumped down from the retaining unit and ran towards her new CO. Yuki ran up alongside Chiyo. "Sergeant Yuki Yamada, Imperial Fusō Army reporti..." Yuki was cut off by a rather loud yawn escaping her mouth. "Ing ma'am," she finished rather quietly a bit embarrassed.
It was then when the second Fusoan made her approach, a short black-haired girl whom had arrived with her Striker Units. Alice turned her head to glance at this new arrival, eyes widening a bit in curiosity at how she ran rather than walked. If the Brittanian had to guess, she was probably one of the rookies. In any case, she was prepared to respond until the young girl erupted in a yawn, catching the usually stoic Brittanian completely off guard.
Her expression went to one of an amused smile and a chuckle, as she took another sip from her coffee.
“Acknowledged, Sergeant. Glad to have both of you on board.”
Nachfolgia wrote:Madrid Airbase, HispaniaFor any personnel outside on the tarmac as well as inside the buildings, it came suddenly and unexpectedly. A loud, thunderous boom roared from the skies above the airbase. The sound rattled both teeth and glass alike, much to the base personnels' dismay. The unknown sound was not powerful enough to cause severe damage to buildings, although some people's ears might be ringing for a few minutes. If the airbase wasn't expecting aircraft this morning, they might have thought they were under attack and went on high alert.
Friederike Adler of the Karlsland Luftwaffe had just rocketed over Madrid Airbase, topping in at about Mach 3. The young Feldwebel had maintained that speed for about an hour now, flying straight here from Berlin which was a couple thousand kilometers away. Flying so high and so fast, however, didn't come without its own risks.
Friederike had to wear a special helmet, akin to a fighter pilot's helmet, with its own air supply. The heights she was flying at afforded her very little oxygen to even remain conscious for very long. She also wore skin tight thermal wear underneath her grey Luftwaffe uniform to protect her better from wind chill. Her own magic helped a great deal with protecting her, but she needed something extra.
Friederike looked down at the airbase as she circled around over head, reducing her speed gradually as she did so. She had the capability of stopping rather quickly, but that would cost a bit of magical energy and she already used quite a bit already getting here. When her speed finally slowed, Friederike began to land on the tarmac, touching down in textbook fashion. She coasted to the retaining units and began to depart her striker unit, with the aid of the technicians.
Once her feet touched the ground, Friederike took off her pilot's helmet, revealing her long, silver hair. She clipped the helmet to one of her bag straps before adjusting her hair, mostly to cover-up her eye patch. Friederike then proceeded to adjust other things about her. She tugged at the ends of her uniform to straighten it out and made sure her combat ribbon wasn't crooked. She then went to adjusting the luggage she had with her, a sea bag and a messenger bag that was strapped across her back and shoulders.
Now more presentable to report in, Friederike began to walk towards her CO, Warrant Officer Alice Webley. Her walking was more akin to marching than walking, like a proud soldier on a parade deck. Each step was methodical and with purpose, not one movement made out of order. Once she reached the CO, ignoring the other two that arrived before her, she snapped to attention and gave her salute, once again with perfection.
" Good Morning, Ma'am. Feldwebel Friederike Adler of the Karlsland Luftwaffe, reporting as ordered." She said in a serious, almost emotionless tone.
Before she could raise her mug again, Alices’ train of thought was interrupted by the thunderous crack of a jet striker moving at blisteringly quick speeds, causing her short hair to yet still flow violently in the wind, and her mug to almost spill, the Brittanian briefly struggling in a match of balance to stop that from happening. For a moment, her expression was one caught off guard.
“Bloody--”
After her coffee had been secured in that precious mug of hers, the girl sighed in relief as she looked up to see what had caused it, eyes narrowed.
A Witch, circling high above-- presumably to decrease airspeed. Why exactly she had approached the base at high enough speeds to cause such a disruption was beyond her. Flashy it was, but she wondered how that sort of attitude would turn out in combat. She was tempted to get on radio with the individual, but decided against it.
“Don’t want to clog up radio traffic,” Alice stated under her breath.
Instead, she watched as the new witch made their landing, eyes fixated on them. The squadron commander recognized the woman as the Karlslandian she had read about in the files.
Arms crossed, she observed the march-like walk of the silver-haired girl, and soon she was looking up, rather than straight. As the girl gave her salute, Alice took a small sip, and saluted back.
“Acknowledged, Adler. Please do note though that we have personnel here working on sensitive equipment. Buzzing the base at such speeds might cause… Problems, if you get where I’m going.”
Finorskia wrote:Podpolkovnik, Dimitri Penkov
Madrid Airbase, Hispania
April 15th, 2021Lt. Colonel Dimitri Penkov leaned back in his chair whistling bars of the Orussian folk song Kalinka. In his right hand, he held a rather large packet of papers. In his left hand, he held a mug of coffee. There was a beep from Dimitri's RADAR monitor. The 34-year-old Tactical Director nearly spit out his coffee as a contact had appeared moving at incredible speed in their direction.
<<All escort witches cover your ears!>> Dimitri yelled over radio. A moment later there was a muffled boom and the Bariev A-100 AWACS aircraft shook violently.
<<Thanks for the warning Zvezdnyy Svett,>> the soft voice of 2nd Lieutenant Alexandra Kuznetsov said. Dimitir let out a sight of relief and leaned back in his chair, glad that the witches had, had enough time to react.
"What was that sir," Yefreytor Leonti Pavlov, one of the aircraft's surveillance crew, asked.
"Not what, Yefreytor Pavlov, who, and that was Feldwebel Friederike Adler," Dimitri replied leaning back in his chair. He took another sip of coffee and turned the packet of papers he was holding around so that Leonti could see that, at least that page, was Frederike's personnel file. "17 years old, Karlsandian, daughter of a career military man, and she possesses the ability to fly at incredible speeds. She's also a survivor of the Burgos Massacre," Dimitri sighed, glancing down at the family photo he kept taped to his monitor. It showed Dimitri, his wife Yaroslava, and their two daughters Taisiya and Ludmilla. The picture had been taken just before the invasion, they had been on a picnic and were all smiling. Dimitri reached out and touched Taisiya’s picture. Like Friederike's squadron, the 12-year-old girl was gone, shot down fighting in the Kongo.
"Sir, how many times are you gonna read those personnel files?" Junior Lieutenant Adam Krupin, one of the weapons officers, asked. "This is the 3rd time you've read over them."
"As many times as I need until I've memorized every detail about these girls combat abilities. I need...we all need to do our best to make sure they make it through every battle," Dimitri sighed and stood up. He walked over to a mini-fridge the crew had installed in the corner near the passage to the cockpit. Dimitri began rooting through it. "Hey Shwetz, where did you put those Pirogies?"
"All crew please be seated for landing," the pilot, Captain Roza Matveev, informed everyone.
"Darn it," Dimitri grumbled shutting the fridge door and returning to his seat.
* * *
The large A-100 AWACS aircraft descended onto the tarmac, the rubber screeching as it contacted the pavement. The aircraft taxied down the runway to it's resting spot near the Fusōnese liaison plane. Inside Dimitri packed up his files and headed towards the ramp for disembarkment.
"The rest of you go on and report to HR. I want to speak to the squadron leader," Dimitri informed his crew. The crew acknowledged their commanding officer and Dimitri made his way down the boarding ramp onto the bases tarmac. With a briefcase of files in one hand, Dimitri adjusted his glasses and made his way across the tarmac towards the gaggle of witches on the Flightline. Once he had approached close enough to hear the conversation he stopped, deciding to wait for the witches to disperse to speak with Alice.
Junior Lieutenant, Alexandra Kuznetsov
Madrid Airbase, Hispania
April 15th, 2021Alexandra Kuznetsov touched down on the runway shortly after a large A-100 AWACS plane. It had been a long but calm and uneventful flight. During most of it the planes Tactical Director going, by the callsign Zvezdnyy Svett, had sung and hummed many songs from the motherland. He felt like a dad, and it reminded Alexandra of her own parents before they'd lost it all and turned to use her powers to commit crimes. She silently bowed her head in shame and remorse. After locking her strikers into place Alexandra quietly pulled herself up and onto the retainer. She looked around the tarmac. Spotting a group of witches gathering on the tarmac, and recognizing one of the girls from the briefing as her new CO, Alexandra set off.
"Junior Lieutenant Alexandra Kuznetsov," Alexandra said quietly with a salute as she walked up to her new flight leader.
It was then that the roar of another heavy aircraft alerted Alice to its’ presence, as the girl looked to see that an AWACS of Orussian origin had arrived, settling down on the pavement. Inside was likely the current base commander, whom also probably served as the operator of the aircraft itself. The girl wondered to herself how he conducted himself on official purposes, also noting the witch trailing close behind.
As per usual, the AWACS itself was towed to the hangars while the witch in question made her way over, quietly reporting in. With a nod, Alice gave a salute back.
“Acknowledged, Lieutenant. Thank you for coming.”
Rupudska wrote:Madrid-Torrejón Airbase, Hispania
15 April 2021As Feldwebel Adler reported as ordered to her commanding officer, the BAe Domine was joined at the airbase by a much larger Tupolev Tu-234 in the silver-and-blue livery of the Orussian Air Force, escorted by a pair of MiG-23s and a pair of MiG-23 Witches of the Kingdom of Kongo. As they entered the base's direct airspace, they wagged their wings in salute (or actually saluted), and broke off to return to their country to the south. While not near the distance Fuso was from Hispania, it was still a twelve-hour-plus flight there and back, and through some rather dangerous airspaces.
Out of the airliner-turned-transport stepped Junior Lieutenant Klavdia 'Klava' Ilyinichna Fedchenko, an officer in the Royal Orussian Air Force and probably the least experienced Witch here, having shot down a whopping
three airborne Neuroi. Her count against ground Neuroi was substantially higher, but even that wasn't enough to make her an air-to-ground ace. She had slept like a corpse on the flight here, not wanting to dwell on what reasons the Imperial government would have to put her in a 5XX squadron, and further wanting to enjoy the aircraft's powerful air conditioning for as long as she could, in case she had to take it back to the sweltering Congo jungles.
It wasn't hard to find her superior officer, as she already had a small gaggle of Witches surrounding her. As the transport's crew began to offload her luggage (including her Su-34 Strikers, which came in their own SRUs), she gave Alice Webley a crisp salute.
"Privyet, ma'am. Mládshiy leytenant Klavdia Fedchenko, reporting as ordered."
Alice felt as if she was getting a bit overwhelmed by all these witches swarming her simultaneously, but it’s not like she expected anything less. The arrival of yet another aircraft caught her eye as their Kongolese Air escorts broke off, this time another Orussian. Likewise, the aircraft taxied and park next to the far smaller BAe Domine, practically dwarfing it. Though even still, only one witch emerged.
Probably the greenest one of them all at the moment, the squadron commander had made mental notes to pay attention to Klavdia specifically, for she probably required more guidance on matters of air-air combat. Giving a salute back, Alice spoke up once more.
“You’re good, Lieutennant. And good morning to you, as well. Hopefully the ride was pleasant.”
She paused for a moment, wondering if she should try and ease the nerves of the Orussian.
“And hey, don’t worry if you are, if anything I’ll teach you what you need to know. I know you aren’t too experienced in shooting down Neuroi, but everybody starts somewhere, right?”
Sentinalyia wrote:Caporal Luce Campo
Madrid Airbase, Hispania
April 15, 2021A small dot in the distance rapidly grew into a tan figure atop a Rafale striker decked out in the colors of the Gallian Foreign Legion's striker unit, Gallian roundel displayed proudly. Unlike many of her new allies, it was not much of a flight at all from her former base in Gallia to the Madrid airbase, leaving Luce with plenty of energy left to go. Briefly, she considered some quick acrobatics, just to show off, but she reluctantly admitted to herself that all it would get her was a scolding from command. So instead, she approached the airfield and slid her striker across the runway and into the waiting arms of a striker containment unit and its technicians. She cast a jaunty salute at them as she did. "Thanks, boys- and, girl." She inclined her head toward the single female technician nearby, who silently nodded back. "Nice having the welcome mat already out for once instead of loitering."
As soon as Luce's legs were freed from their metal prison she slipped to the ground and sauntered off toward the growing crowd of witches surrounded the individual who was most likely her new superior officer. Either that, or the person most likely to know where the superior officer was. Whistling a tune as she went, Luce made her way into the group of witches. Cheerfully ignoring most of the other witches for the moment, Luce smiled and stepped into a pose that could almost be called parade rest. She started in a false announcer voice, "Ladies, distant gentlemen," she gestured to the various technicians and airmen wandering about, "and anything in-between, introducing: Luce Campo. Caporal. Nice day for a flight, isn't it, ma'am?"
One of the technicians would call out; “I wouldn’t dare touch those hostile skies with a 100 yard pole!” in response, though Alice seemed too engrossed in trying to calm the younger Orussian.
The sudden appearance of the Gallian caused Alice to glance over blink curiously, even moreso at the foreign legion girls’ peculiar appearance. From what she could remember, the Brittanian deciphered that this must be Luce, the girl who bore a resemblance to a certain prior stunt witch whom had a spine-cracking injury, ending their career. Though she knew that the one before her likely wasn’t the one she thought of, this likely distracted her from the fact that her reporting procedure was far from professional, and that it likely would earn a scolding from any other higher officer. Regardless, the squadron leader looked the tan girl up and down, eyes widened.
“Uh… Acknowledged. Indeed, it is a… Good day for flying.”
Alice took a sip from her mug, glancing back up at Luce’s face itself.
“Glad to have you, Caporal. Hopefully you find the rest of the base as nice as this morning.”
She glanced towards all the current witches before her in general, her usual gaze returning.
"And speaking of such, if none of you have any immediate questions, then you are dismissed and are free to roam about the base. Hangar 8 has some good folks inside who volunteered to come on leave day in order to guide you girls around, so please treat them well. Also, remember to be present in the briefing room by tomorrow at 1030."
There was a pause.
"And lastly, welcome to the 511th. I am honored to serve alongside you girls, though formalities can come later. For now please take your time getting acquainted with the base and personnel, alright?"