Ace Combat: Ashes of War (IC/Closed)

by **Tayner** » Thu Jul 08, 2021 4:21 pm

Captain Samuel 'Merlin' Daniel
November 27th, 2015 // Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

Knight: <<Hitman Lead. Scairio One, We need some fast movers over here, we have alot of Bumps and what appear to be tanks, we don't have the ordnance necessary to take them out.>>

Merlin: << Affirmative. All Hitman elements are free to disengauge and move for Charlie at their discression. Prioritize enemy armor. Mooncalf, I need your anti radation missiles. >>

Once again Hitman was retasked. The gunship support on Objective Charlie was not adequate, and the time for fast movers had come. Seemingly all of Assassin had once again formed a hap-hazard formation as they left the airspace over Bravo, bound for Charlie. Enforcer would also likely send some of their own. Dan gained some altitude, looking over Charlie as he made his approach. There were a handful of tanks and even more APCs, being held off by the armor of the Steel Gunners and the gunships of Siccario. He scanned the battlespace, before making his move.

Merlin: << Rifle >>

His maverick flew off it's rail, headed straight for a T-72 that was spearhedding the Stovie forces. The missile struck true, hitting the tank and destroying it. He found his next target, an enemy APC amongst a formation of many like it.

Merlin: << Rifle >>

Once again the missile struck true, before enemy anti air defenses made to ward him off.

Melin: << Scratch one tank and one APC. Enemy Shilkas are gunning for me, going evasive while I prepare a paveway. Mooncalf, get on SEAD, Rattler, I'm going to need some laser guidance, find me a target. >>

Dan dumped chaff, going evasive as he once again tried to slip away from the enemy air defense's feilds of fire. Tracers zipped past, and a few superficial hits were scored on his wing. After he was in the clear he checked over his damages and found no considerable loss of mobility, before going to make another turn to prepare for his next run.

by **Shyluz** » Thu Jul 08, 2021 4:55 pm

2LT. Zéphyrine Roux "F.R.O.G." de Saint-Hadrien
November 27, 2015 // Somewhere Over Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

Zéphyrine decidedly did not enjoy this "Operation: Combine," so far, it'd been shit. Only Hinds and Frogfoots mixed with ground vics and such. Not her area of expertise, no. Sure, she'd helped Merlin out, acting as an impromptu wingman and overall security for the push on Bravo--you know, just in case something actually worth her time and attention happened. So far, all she'd done today was enjoy a leisurely flight over some burning bridges, Stovies and Emmerians. Friendly incompetence, Rattler acting out a fun little sideshow over the airwaves, oh my, yes. Truly, the only thing that had kept de Saint-Hadrien awake and semi-aware was the drama. She detatched the belly drop tank, the shudder signaling to her a successful deployment of the bolts.

She could only wonder what would happen next, when they landed at the tarmac? Who would throw the first punch? Rattler seemed likely, but that was the obvious choice. No, Zéffie's money was on Merlin. He'd have a heart-to-heart with Rattler about her attitude "problem," (not that Zéffie thought there was anything wrong with her, in fact, she had half a mind to start belting out insults herself) then he'd go to confront the Emmerian flight lead that tried to swap frequencies. Of course, this would be the wrong move, somebody would say something, probably the Emmerian talking talk that he clearly, and evidently, could not back up. Merlin would get pissed, or maybe the Emmerian would, and then Merlin would deck him. That was her predicted outcome.

Rattler of course was still a wildcard--entirely capable of interrupting or pre-empting her prediction, and frankly that was whatever. Zéphyrine was just nearly certain that someone was getting decked. She banked, pulling into formation with Merlin as burned out of a strafing run.

F.R.O.G.:<<F.R.O.G. here, still no bandits. I'll keep on security.>> Which is odd. This much force, but no air-superiority craft? If the Estovakians were that foolish, they wouldn't be winning the war so handily.

by **Empire of Donner land** » Thu Jul 08, 2021 5:10 pm

Second Lieutenant Marceline “Mooncalf” Faucheux | Second Lieutenant Benjamin “Vigil” Antall
Morning // November 27, 2015 // Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

As the rest of Assassin pressed forwards to finish the Jobs the others seemed to be slacking at, Mooncalf and Vigil were above loitering, making sure that the SAMs below weren't getting any smart ideas, and keeping them guessing on who and where the ARMs were coming from. Soon though their work seemed to be needed elsewhere, Merlin soon calling out for them to move towards Charlie, and already the tracers flying upwards were evident, as were the radar signatures occasionally flashing towards them as the Shilka's falsely felt safe. Vigil was already preparing to fire as soon as they were pointed in the right direction.

Melin: << Scratch one tank and one APC. Enemy Shilkas are gunning for me, going evasive while I prepare a paveway. Mooncalf, get on SEAD, Rattler, I'm going to need some laser guidance, find me a target. >>

Vigil: <<Don't yell so loud, we work in our own time. Assassin 2-2 is en route, breaking from Loitre above Alpha. >>

"Keep our bearing towards Alpha, locking them up and firing. Soon as we're done with those, dive us down, I can see the T-72s through the T-pod already." Vigil instructed as his hands were practically flying from one side of the cockpit to the other as he multitasked. First, he locked each of the two pylons left for the Kh-25 ARMs onto a Radar, the Shilkas were pointed in their direction as they chased with their guns another target, likely Merlin. Finishing that, he went to the T-Pod, turning on the laser and slewing it to steer and track on a T-72.

Vigil: << This is Assassin 2-2, Magnum, Magnum. >>

"Knock'em dead." He knocked on the helmet of Mooncalf, signaling her to fire, and with two thunks, the Kh-25s separated and ignited their motors, flying away from their pylons with white streaks in the sky. He leaned with a hunch to look over Calf's seat to see the splashes, and sure enough, two large orange-white detonations accompanied with a pillowing firey smoke cloud were seen.

Vigil: << Two more bit the dust, switching to ATGMs. Gotta work fast... Calf, let's dive.

He switched the pylons from the now empty ones to the ones housing the Semi-Active Laser-Guided Kh-25s as the Su-17 rolled towards Charlie in a dive, wings spread apart. The T-Pod already lasing a T-72, he reached over to knock on Calf's helmet again. "Shoot!" Another thunk as another Kh-25 dropped off a pylon, flying away. He watched the T-Pod footage and saw as the T-72 shortly thereafter had its turret popped off and away. He didn't even bother with shouting out "Rifle!", he was too focused as he slewed to the next T-72 in the platoon.

"Shoot!"

Again, the Kh-25 flew away. Then seconds later slammed into just under the turret, right in the side. The hatches on the T-72 popped open with flames speweing out before the turret popped off in a comical fashion again. "Laser Guided gone, switching to Infrared," again his hands went into a flurry, switching the active pylons to the IR Kh-25s. Finished, he slewed to the 2nd to last T-72, locking it for the IR seeker to track. He noticed briefly as they were running out of time, not having much altitude left before pulling up. "Shoot!" he yelled once more, yet still calm as ever as he worked the instrumentation.

The missile left with a thud, and just as it did, he locked onto the last T-72, thankful that these were Fire and Forget. He triumphantly yelled, "Shoot! We're done here, let's go!" he laughed to himself, unusually giddy with their performance as he watched the plumes of smoke rise up from Charlie, the T-72s cooking off and providing quite the view for the ground troops as they flew up and away. No doubt they'd get a lot of complaints about being late, but it was better late than never he thought. Truthfully, the view gave him memories of being over Yuktobania.

Vigil: << Assassin 2 is done. We've expended everything but our AA-2s and the gun, we're now good to loiter and lase at your discretion. If that wasn't an example for Eagle on how to pound the ground, I don't know what is. >>

COMBAT LOG

by **Anowa** » Thu Jul 08, 2021 6:20 pm

1st Lt. Victoria "Abel" Cain
November 27th, 2015 // Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

Everything after that happened so quickly, that Abel was barely capable of hanging on to what was going on where. Despite this not being an AtA focused mission, the air above Bravo had spontaneously burst into a furball. Comms discipline broke for a scant moment, and Abel could feel the looming gaze of Ghost Eye waiting for it to break again.

Abel watched as Yellow Jacket and Carpenter broke off from Charlie to assist on the ground at Bravo, CSAR as they were.

By the time Abel was able to roll around and begin another pass, she noticed that none of the targets were stationary, in fact they were all heading north at full speed.

Ghost Eye: <<Enemy forces are in full retreat. All calls-... Wait a minute.>>

There was a prolonged delay on an open mic as some muted talking could be heard.

Ghost Eye: <<ALCON ALCON! Unidentified enemy fighter incoming at high speed, IFF is squawking a Tornado but it has radar cross section literally a mile wide. We'll begin an analysis!>>

Adjusting her radar monitor, what Ghost eye said was true. A massive radar contact was approaching at a speed that Abel estimated was mid mach 2, maybe faster.

The speaker on Abel's radio creaked on as it found something to broadcast.

???: [ESTVK] <<All forces fall back to line Dima. I'll hold back the hostile air.>>

???: [ESTVK] <<Drakon, there's no way you can kill them all on your own! Don't throw your life away.>>

Drakon: [ESTVK] <<I'm not killing them, I'm buying you all time. I'm disconnecting, good luck to you all.>>

A few moments after that cut, every aircraft in both Griffin and Hitman would get a hard lock warning. In the distance, as barely anything more but a spec of dust, the "Tornado" could be seen approaching with a duo of... cruise missiles? No! Drones!

The same voice Abel had heard on her jury rigged radio cut in over Emmerian channels, much clearer now.

Drakon: <<Do you hear me Emmerians? The name of he who has you in his sights is Zoran Mikulanec, I am him. To whoever it is who takes the plunge to engage me directly, I wish you the best of luck. My only desire in this world was to have a united country, and I did horrible things for it, and paid for it with my soul. Even now I am still paying by fighting a war I did not desire. I regret all of it, but it is my duty to protect those below me on the ground, just as it is yours. I know one of you will kill me, numbers alone are not on my side. These will be my final words. Goodbye, and I wish you the best of luck in winning your homeland back.>>

The sound of a disconnect echoed in Abel's ears, and with that disconnect, the hard spikes disappeared, no warnings sounded as Abel swung her head around to see where they'd impacted. Her craft leaving the evasive maneuvers she had been in previously and settling into a cautious level flight. Her eyes once again gazing out towards the lone pilot and his two autonomatons.

Ghost Eye: <<ALCON. We've completed an analysis of the enemy craft. A North Point Tornado ECR airframe sold to the Republic of Anea for the purposes of testing sixth generation avionics and ECM! It's a CFA-44 test bed! Someone get in there and take that beast down!>>

by **Hastur** » Thu Jul 08, 2021 7:48 pm

MISSION 02: OPERATION COMBINE
First Lieutenant Miriam “Rattler” Lochte
Sipli Plateau, Emmeria // November 27, 2015

Merlin: << Affirmative. All Hitman elements are free to disengauge and move for Charlie at their discression. Prioritize enemy armor. Mooncalf, I need your anti radation missiles. >>

Rattler: << Copy. Following your lead. >>

The battle was moving again. With the area now established, their help no longer needed at Bravo. The air threats that had preyed on the armour were now burning in ditches, the hostile tanks that lingered across the bridge no longer active. They had done the best that they could given the circumstances. Miriam took one last glance downward at the smoke covered bridge before making the turn. Emotions lingering as her vision passed over the chaos.

Rattler: << Good luck, guys. Rattler out. >>

Miriam announced, voice more cordial than it had been before, the message directed at the men on the ground as she carried out her approach east towards Charlie. Her plane now leaving the defensive posture that she had held it in. Burning the mirage 3’s fuel fast as they began getting back into formation. She glanced at the gauges. Confirming what she thought. Without the drop pods, she had burned an abundance of fuel in the tour they had pulled. The counter was that Miriam still had plenty of munitions left. Around half of her gun ammunition left and three AGM-65’s left, she could do it, but she would be cutting it close on the return flight.

Melin: << Scratch one tank and one APC. Enemy Shilkas are gunning for me, going evasive while I prepare a paveway. Mooncalf, get on SEAD, Rattler, I’m going to need some laser guidance, find me a target. >>

Miriam activated the pod and began scanning for targets. The grey terminal signalling out a target, a T-72 as it began riding back through the field. She brought the targeting laser over, tracking it.

Ghost Eye: <<Enemy forces are in full retreat. All calls-... Wait a minute.>>

The alert stopped her, plane cruising along through Charlie. Miriam flicked the designator off. The enemy was no longer a threat; they had called it a day, beaten, bloody, and bruised. But something else was coming. She could see it on the radar terminal. Something substantial, approaching fast from the enemy's side. Miriam scanned the skyline, but it was too far out to eyeball just yet.

Ghost Eye: <<ALCON ALCON! Unidentified enemy fighter incoming at high speed, IFF is squawking a Tornado but it has radar cross section literally a mile wide. We’ll begin an analysis!>>

Ghost eye confirmed it, the signature moving quickly, ingress towards them. It was looking like they were about to get into a dogfight. The squawk of unfamiliar voices confirmed it.

???: [ESTVK] <<All forces fall back to line Dima. I’ll hold back the hostile air.>>

???: [ESTVK] <<Drakon, there’s no way you can kill them all on your own! Don’t throw your life away.>>

Drakon: [ESTVK] <<I’m not killing them, I’m buying you all time. I’m disconnecting, good luck to you all.>>

A hard lock warning screamed, Miriam almost doing a double take as it opened its violation on her ears. A tiny speck lingered in the sky, flanked on each side by a something smaller. Instinctively, she began evasive manoeuvres, turning aggressively, fuel draining as she attempted to escape whatever had been fired against her.

Drakon: <<Do you hear me Emmerians? The name of he who has you in his sights is Zoran Mikulanec, I am him. To whoever it is who takes the plunge to engage me directly, I wish you the best of luck. My only desire in this world was to have a united country, and I did horrible things for it, and paid for it with my soul. Even now I am still paying by fighting a war I did not desire. I regret all of it, but it is my duty to protect those below me on the ground, just as it is yours. I know one of you will kill me, numbers alone are not on my side. These will be my final words. Goodbye, and I wish you the best of luck in winning your homeland back.>>

The voice stopped, disconnecting entirely as the hard spikes faded. A tinge of sadness lingered as she exited the turn, flattening the plane out. She could not fault the man for what he was doing. What he said clicked. Miriam knew she would have done the same if the situation was reversed. Her expression was flat as she moved the plane into back into formation. She didn’t want to fight him, but she couldn’t back down and leave their squadron behind, even with her precarious fuel situation.

by **Sapim** » Fri Jul 09, 2021 5:44 am

MISSION 02: OPERATION COMBINE
Second Lieutenant Helena “Bono” Martiz
Sipli Plateau, Emmeria // November 27, 2015

Seeing that there was no more threat at the alpha sector and receiving instructions from the grouping to go to the charlie sector to help her allies on the ground, she accelerates as fast as possible her fighter to neutralize some Estovakian land units before they flee since she is a mercenary in search for money.

Merlin: << Affirmative. All Hitman elements are free to disengauge and move for Charlie at their discression. Prioritize enemy armor. Mooncalf, I need your anti radation missiles. >>

Bono: <<Enforcer Six speaking I see a group of Estovakian infantry.>>

Immediately she makes her diving maneuver activating her machine gun the infantry units were fleeing in a straight line down the road facilitating her attack.

Bono: <<Gun !, Gun !>>

She fires machine guns at infantry and trucks leaving a trail of blood and fire on the road, destroying 7 infantry formations and 3 trucks in that attack of hers. After that attack of hers, she goes back to the Enforcer formation waiting for confirmation of the mission's end when suddenly.

Ghost Eye: <<Enemy forces are in full retreat. All calls-... Wait a minute.>>

The alert caused her to immediately stop what she and her squad were doing. She notices on the radar a beep coming at high speed coming from the enemy line she watches over the horizon seeing if she could see what was coming, nothing else until.

Ghost Eye: <<ALCON ALCON! Unidentified enemy fighter incoming at high speed, IFF is squawking a Tornado but it has radar cross section literally a mile wide. We’ll begin an analysis!>>

Ghost eye confirmed it, the signature moving quickly, ingress towards them. It was looking like they were about to get into a dogfight. The squawk of unfamiliar voices confirmed it. The enemy was coming.

???: [ESTVK] <<All forces fall back to line Dima. I’ll hold back the hostile air.>>

???: [ESTVK] <<Drakon, there’s no way you can kill them all on your own! Don’t throw your life away.>>

Drakon: [ESTVK] <<I’m not killing them, I’m buying you all time. I’m disconnecting, good luck to you all.>>

The missile alert echoed loudly making without thinking twice she starts doing evasive maneuvers waiting for the plane to stop screaming warning.

Drakon: <<Do you hear me Emmerians? The name of he who has you in his sights is Zoran Mikulanec, I am him. To whoever it is who takes the plunge to engage me directly, I wish you the best of luck. My only desire in this world was to have a united country, and I did horrible things for it, and paid for it with my soul. Even now I am still paying by fighting a war I did not desire. I regret all of it, but it is my duty to protect those below me on the ground, just as it is yours. I know one of you will kill me, numbers alone are not on my side. These will be my final words. Goodbye, and I wish you the best of luck in winning your homeland back.>>

Sacrifice for your comrades that echoed in her mind, remembering her father who will die sacrificing himself for his comrades in Belkan war. She starts talking to herself.

"Idiot you tremendous asshole, fucking sacrifice yourself for your mates just like him I'll end your suffering quickly.

Right after she spoke alone the Ghost Eye spoke.

Ghost Eye: <<ALCON. We've completed an analysis of the enemy craft. A North Point Tornado ECR airframe sold to the Republic of Anea for the purposes of testing sixth generation avionics and ECM! It's a CFA-44 test bed! Someone get in there and take that beast down!>>

by **Vacif** » Fri Jul 09, 2021 1:40 pm

OPERATION COMBINE
2nd Lieutenant Bernard “Witness” Leavit
Sipli Plateau, Emmeria // November 27, 2015

Merlin: << Affirmative. All Hitman elements are free to disengauge and move for Charlie at their discression. Prioritize enemy armor. Mooncalf, I need your anti radation missiles. >>

With the majority of the enemy force in shambles at Bravo, Witness figured they could leave the last of the enemy to Eagle and Lion. Witness broke off from his defensive posture over the bridge and followed Merlin towards Charlie. In the distance he could see the helicopter detachment in Charlie making their way towards Bravo. “God speed.” Bernard said to them.

As the battle began to wind down, Witness figured he could pull another run or two against the enemy before he had to pull out for refueling. They had been in the air for what felt like a while. Hopefully they could clean up Charlie just as fast as they had the previous targets. Though as if his thoughts had been answered, they were dashed away just as fast.

Ghost Eye: <<Enemy forces are in full retreat. All calls-... Wait a minute.>>

Witness grunted. “Alright, what now?”

Ghost Eye: <<ALCON ALCON! Unidentified enemy fighter incoming at high speed, IFF is squawking a Tornado but it has radar cross section literally a mile wide. We'll begin an analysis!>>

“Only one?” Well that shouldn’t have been too hard to deal with but there was an obvious caveat that this single target would not go down easily. If they were going by movie logic, this one pilot would do some serious damage. This however was not a movie.

But just as their radios picked up the enemy frequency, his radar warnings spiked! His heart leapt into his throat either by shock or gravity as he began going evasive. He hadn't even registered a soft lock before the hard lock came. Heart pounding he looked all around him as the other pilots did the same. Everyone had gone evasive. “What is this?!” Witness asked himself as he looked for whatever was coming.

Drakon: <<Do you hear me Emmerians? The name of he who has you in his sights is Zoran Mikulanec, I am him. To whoever it is who takes the plunge to engage me directly, I wish you the best of luck. My only desire in this world was to have a united country, and I did horrible things for it, and paid for it with my soul. Even now I am still paying by fighting a war I did not desire. I regret all of it, but it is my duty to protect those below me on the ground, just as it is yours. I know one of you will kill me, numbers alone are not on my side. These will be my final words. Goodbye, and I wish you the best of luck in winning your homeland back.>>

Comms went silent and so did the hard lock. Witness was left in silence, alone with the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, the idle chirp of electronics and the hum of his engine.

Ghost Eye: <<ALCON. We've completed an analysis of the enemy craft. A North Point Tornado ECR airframe sold to the Republic of Anea for the purposes of testing sixth generation avionics and ECM! It's a CFA-44 test bed! Someone get in there and take that beast down!>>

So it was some kind of ECM? Crazy stuff. Though if he was here to buy time for his fellows to escape it would likely do the job. With the amount of fuel he’d just burnt and how much everyone else had burned he wasn’t sure how long they could stay on station for. As for the man himself behind the controls. Well shit. He knew what he had to do. Both of them. That was just the way things were. He didn’t exactly have the means to take on something like that but the best he could do was give him something to aim at if it meant giving someone else a shot. And he knew a certain someone in his flight ready for this exact outcome.

Drakon was here to cover his men, so Witness would draw them out. Enforcer had already started the job on Charlie’s retreating force. Witness would strike who he deemed a fair target. These soldiers were retreating, but they had not surrendered. They would regroup and rearm to fight them in the next battle. It was a target rich environment and he had enough ammo but fuel left something to be desired. He’d guess he could only hit one target before having to save his remaining fuel for evasive maneuvers.

The T-72Bs and BMPs were definitely bigger threats for future operations but the force multiplier were the trucks. The logistics. An army crawled on its stomach. A modern army on their bandwidth. Those trucks were their lifeline, he was sure the enemy would have more supply in their next area but denying them these supplies would likely be worth more than the tanks and BMPs combined. Thanks to Bono’s gun run the road had been cluttered with corpses. Hostile vehicles were double timing it down the road making them easy targets. Witness made sure he was on a secure channel.

Witness: << Assassin Six, I’m going to draw in the enemy. Get ready. >>

Witness had been careful to scout out and observe the trucks. They seemed to come from a centralized hub of some kind of the ground, a staging point or a depot. None of these trucks seemed to be marked with a medical insignia or were near any field hospitals that he could see. Assassin Six brought his plane into gear for a run and switched to his LAUs. They were loaded with Flechette Anti-Tank rockets. None-explosive. They would tear apart the trucks and their cargo but at least maybe give their drivers a chance at surviving. He didn’t like shooting retreating men or using them as bait but they were valid targets. Using the FATs would also minimize damage to the road. If he was correct, their ground elements would need to drive through these roads as well. If he blew them apart with AGMs or guns, the roads would likely be ruined for some time, not to mention the vehicle corpses. The FATs seemed like the best weapon for the job.

Witness: << Assassin Six, Rockets. Rockets. >>

He acquired his target. The remaining 8 trucks in the adhoc convoy. 16 rockets accelerated towards the line up, two for each vehicle. Each pod contained five tungsten flechettes that anihiliated each vehicle in the way. As he flew in, 30mm cannon fire attempted to intercept him to no avail. He was simply too fast for the BMP gunners to intercept. He expected this, but what he wasn’t expecting was a sudden collision warning 4 kilometers in the sky as an incredibly angular craft flew uncomfortably close to him, guns screaming. A UAV of some kind? It was unlike anything he’d ever seen, alien almost.

Witness: << Assassin Six, going defensive! >>

An enemy had come straight to them.

by **Shyluz** » Fri Jul 09, 2021 3:39 pm

2LT. Zéphyrine Roux "F.R.O.G." de Saint-Hadrien
November 27, 2015 // Somewhere Over Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

Drakon: << Do you hear me Emmerians? The name of he who has you in his sights is Zoran Mikulanec, I am him. To whoever it is who takes the plunge to engage me directly, I wish you the best of luck. My only desire in this world was to have a united country, and I did horrible things for it, and paid for it with my soul. Even now I am still paying by fighting a war I did not desire. I regret all of it, but it is my duty to protect those below me on the ground, just as it is yours. I know one of you will kill me, numbers alone are not on my side. These will be my final words. Goodbye, and I wish you the best of luck in winning your homeland back. >>

F.R.O.G. made a mental note to shut up next time things were boring but easy. She flicked on the burners and warmed seekers, bleeding a bit of altitude to nab every last bit of speed, somehow she knew she would need it. She flipped her canopy to the side, giving herself a moment to acquaint herself with the situation. Charlie was withdrawing, trucks and tanks and everything in-between pulling out quick as could be, Assassin was in a loose rally, able to support each other well enough, even if they looked fairly unprofessional doing it.

The Stovie seemed like somebody who would either end up dead or in Assassin, jaded and sad. Sort of like that quiet Belkan, but oh well. Sometimes things just don't work out, like getting paid to loiter.

Ghost Eye: << ALCON. We've completed an analysis of the enemy craft. A North Point Tornado ECR airframe sold to the Republic of Anea for the purposes of testing sixth generation avionics and ECM! It's a CFA-44 test bed! Someone get in there and take that beast down! >>

Damn. That was a big ECM bubble. Lucky for her, she didn't like to rely on radar. She'd been trained that way, it'd been drilled into her and it had become almost her personal mantra. "Radars get confused with noise, and infrareds get confused when things get dicey. The only thing a pilot should ever completely trust in is their guns." The Aurelians put an odd amount of focus into gun-fighting compared to other nations, but Zéphyrine knew it was a geographical need. Mountains made fights either happen high or low, and for a smaller country like themselves, it was advantageous to keep it low down in the weeds, where older, maneuverable airframes could compete. And that close to the ground, with terrain to weave through, things more often than not would come down to heatseekers and guns.

Witness--Assassin Six--nosed down into a strafing run, pulling out of the loose cluster that was Assassin. She watched him go, jetting down as the outline of a plan came together in her mind. Her lips pursed, and then split into a wolfish grin.

Witness: << Assassin Six, I’m going to draw in the enemy. Get ready. >>

F.R.O.G.: << Six, this is Five, try not to die like an imbecile, yes? >> She said, her voice almost sounding like she wasn't more excited than worried. Gently, she angled over towards Witness' vector as he began his run. This could go a lot of ways, but only a couple of them had a positive outcome for Witness. But no matter what, things were going to get complicated.

Witness announced his attack, and then very briefly the stretch of road turned to carnage. Zéffie kept her eyes glued to skies, waiting. They were coming now, she knew it. This Mikulanec was too empathetic with his friends on the ground--a quality she was otherwise fond of, but in this moment it was a weakness that could be--and had been--exploited. Then she saw it. Damn, it was like a missile that spat tracers, the stream of Stovie gunfire narrowly missing Witness as he broke off, zipping past him almost close enough to spit.

F.R.O.G.: << That is... different. Should be fun. Witness, you best be reorienting. I'll keep our guest dancing. Fox two. >> She pushed the throttle, the MiG below her roaring to answer as she toned the pesky fly, an Atoll streaking out across the sky.

Zéphyrine stared, dumbstruck, as the drone juked and exploded in a bloom of fire, the wreckage plummeting softly to the earth below.

F.R.O.G.: << Are... is this... some kind of twisted joke? That was... nothing. Not even a fight! That was like bullying a toddler! Merde! Come on! >>

by **Dayganistan** » Fri Jul 09, 2021 9:43 pm

1st Lt. Takhmina "Voron" Abduloeva
November 27th, 2015 // Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

With the T-72s at Alpha mostly eliminated, Takhmina decided it was time to move on from that objective. She had ordered her aircraft to move on to Charlie and help the gunships deal with armored threats they were poorly equipped to deal with. Her plan was to fire her remaining rockets into the woods at base, then wait for the remainder of Enforcer to expend their air to ground munitions before ordering the flight to disengage. However, a transmission from the friendly AWACS would put that plan on hold.

Ghost Eye: <<ALCON ALCON! Unidentified enemy fighter incoming at high speed, IFF is squawking a Tornado but it has radar cross section literally a mile wide. We'll begin an analysis!>>

An unidentified hostile aircraft. Intel reported the Estovakians weren't operating a lot of air power in the area but it wouldn't be the first time military intel would be wrong. A Tornado with a weird radar cross section didn't sound like it would be too much of a threat and someone could probably take it out with minor issue. At least, Takhmina thought so until the next transmission from the AWACS came through.

Ghost Eye: <<ALCON. We've completed an analysis of the enemy craft. A North Point Tornado ECR airframe sold to the Republic of Anea for the purposes of testing sixth generation avionics and ECM! It's a CFA-44 test bed! Someone get in there and take that beast down!>>

A test bed for experimental systems didn't sound like something Takhmina wanted to mess with. Neither would it be a good option for most of her flight to deal with it being stuck in aircraft from the 1960s and 1970s.

Voron: <<All Enforcer callsigns, disengage from ground forces and bug out. Don't go near that fighter if you can avoid it. Leave the retreating enemies.>>

She turned her aircraft away in the combat area, back in the direction they had came from. She was able to see a Draken flying back towards the enemy, lining up for a run on ground targets. From a distance, it appeared to be one of the fighters in her flight, belonging to Bono. It seems the order to disengage from ground targets came to them too late while they were already lining up for the gun run.

"If that idiot gets killed it's not my fault," she said to herself, her radio not keyed so her thoughts would not possibly be heard by the others. In Takhmina's opinion and in all her experience in the Yuktobanian Air Force, orders to disengage meant stop what you're doing and leave the airspace, not continue what you were doing and then leave. Sure, it was fine as a fighter pilot to want to go down in history as a legendary ace. But being a glory hound at all costs is certainly not the way to do so. And attacking troops in retreat would certainly paint a target on not only Bono, but all of the mercenary pilots in future engagements.

by **The United Remnants of America** » Fri Jul 09, 2021 10:04 pm

Second Lieutenant Tobias "Frosty" McLeod

Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

11/27/2015 - 11:15

Over the course of a few minutes, Alpha had been more or less cleared out, the radio chatter seemingly being pushed into a rout and retreating. All of this had happened as Frosty maneuvered around for his next run.

With Alpha being scattered, and the Estovakians in a general retreat, there was suddenly a lack of pressing viable targets. And the arrival of that enemy aircraft and its drone presented a pretty visible threat to Frosty, a threat he wasn't about to tangle with, the memory of his plane being crippled three days ago still very fresh in his mind.

Frosty saw no benefit in trying to chase down some tanks just to open himself up to being killed, it just wasn't worth the risk.

<<Enforcer-1, Enforcer-4. I'm not chasing those squirters unless you force me. I'll be orbiting Warlock's position until I'm bingo fuel or we RTB together.>>

Frosty steered his Thud back around towards Warlock's position holding the bridge. He hadn't done much, but he'd done something, and had survived the mission unscathed. Good enough for him.

color=#00BFFF]<<Sicario-2, Enforcer-4. How're ya handlin' yourself, Uncle?>>[/color]

Second Lieutenant Wulf "Sserpent" Hetzenauer

Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

11/27/2015 - 11:03

<<Frosty, it's Glory. We're good so far over here, just cleaning up. Hold on.>>

Wulf was turning in on a new gun run.

The situation at Charlie had reversed in an instant. Between the paired gunships of Sicario holding the line against the enemies, and some timely assistance from some of Assassin coming to make quick work of the massed enemies, what was left had begun to break ranks.

Too bad fleeing dismounts can't outrun 7.62.

Among the trees and clearings, Jyri and Wulf could see dozens of individuals fleeing, somehow having survived the previous assault from Assassin. The pilots looked at one another and nodded. The two aged warriors knew what they were doing. Shooting someone in the back wasn't necessarily honorable, but this was war, and someone shot in the back couldn't turn around to return fire later on. Wulf knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of this, he'd seen it plenty of times.

<<Sicario-1, it's Sicario-2. Glory notes several units of dismounts withdrawing. Knight, you know how this goes. What say we draw a line halfway through, you take the left, we take the right, copy?>>

"Alright, Headhunter crew, prepare for a spate of constant firing. We're lining up on a series of targets. Just keep us loaded, and we should be back on the ground in a little bit."

"Copy, sir."

The Spooky came in on a straight line, lining herself up against the backs of the first fleeing knot of infantry, and her trio of M-134s opened up.

The guns kept firing, even as the Spooky swept across a second, third, and fourth grouping of infantry. Even as the Spooky began a pylon turn to begin catching the stragglers from a right angle.

Then the incoming tracer fire began.

"Not again. Stoßen! Stoßen!"

A BMP-2 was in the trees, its cannon trying to get a pin on the Spooky as she orbited from the BMP's right side to the the BMP's front, the Spooky's unarmed side facing the armored vehicle, leaving the plane unable to fight back.

"Dropping altitude.... Gaining altitude... Gaining altitude."

Wulf began maneuvering however he could to dodge the cannon rounds. Even one impact had a chance to bring the whole gunship down. He tilted his wings, repeatedly trying to gain and lower altitude in a weak form of evasive maneuvers to avoid the impact. Once he'd gotten some distance, he put the Spooky into another pylon turn that brought the Spooky towards the BMP's left side. Wulf kept avoiding the cannon fire, sweat beading up on the back of his neck.

This BMP wasn't like the last one that left him alone after a moment. This one clearly wanted him dead.

"Watching some stragglers mounting that bump, Wulf. Looking like they're gonna run."

"Not if I can help it."

Once he'd gotten the Spooky to a 7 o'clock position from the BMP, he put the Spooky into a hard right turn, trying to spin the Spooky around as fast as he could, evading the incoming fire the entire time.

"Keep holding on, kids. We're gonna see what we can do about this."

Wulf knew there wasn't much he could really do against this BMP. But as the Spooky finished it's turn and angled along to the BMP's backside, the gunship's miniguns now facing the armored vehicle, Wulf shrugged to himself and decided to give the mounted infantry and vehicle crew a good scare. He thumbed the trigger of the guns.

Three miniguns worth of 7.62 tore through the foliage around the BMP and began sparking off it's rear hatches. Wulf smiled to himself, knowing he was at least giving them a goodbye kiss.

Then the BMP exploded.

"Was zum teufel?"

Jyri's eyebrows were raised high over his sunglasses, "Huh. Good shot?"

"I... Guess?"

<<Knight, Glory. Sicario-2 confirming destruction of five foot mobile groupings as well as a... Bump. I'll explain over drinks when we land.>>

by **Herador** » Fri Jul 09, 2021 10:59 pm

2nd Lt's James "Bones" Gorman & Neisha "Dirty" Deeds
Assassin 5
Sipli Plateau, Emmeria
27 November, 2015

"Why is his Tornado so good?" Neisha demanded as the pair turned to break for home. She had a point, the Tornado was locked in a duel with Eagle's number two, leaving Marcy, Benjamin, and Zephy to duke it out with the Ace's UAVs.

Bones: <<Merlin, Ghost Eye, show Assassin 5 RTB, we've done all we can do here. See you all back at base, get home safe Assassin.>>

"Something is bothering you." It wasn't a question. Neisha had always been able to read James since they were kids. The lack of a follow-up joke was all the show of concern James needed to know she was serious.

"It's Quox." He let it hang for a moment. The flight back wasn't going to be long, but it was going to be just long enough that he wouldn't be able to avoid the conversation. "I don't like friendlies going down."

"I know what you mean." Neisha agreed. "I get the feeling Rattler was right, one of us should have been there. The mercenary flights, I mean." The silence dragged on again, but it wasn't an uncomfortable one. The two had been involved with lots of operations that went bad, plenty worse than this, and they were content to sit and know the other was there. "Merlin and Voron did what they were supposed to, and Eagle did the best they could. Shit, did you hear Tricky's confirms?"

James thought back and realized he couldn't recall. "I guess not."

"It was a shitload. Eagle did work. Just wasn't enough to cover the main advance." There was a pop over the intercom as the MP3 player connected. "We'll decompress with everyone once we get back, I'm planning a thing for us all, gonna invite the naty ground crews too."

If James was supposed to respond, he didn't. He was prone to getting moody like this, Neisha knew it and usually didn't hold it against him. She was right though, they did their best, but James couldn't shake the fact that men he was supposed to protect had died and he was coming home with bombs still on the racks. It didn't sit right with him.

"Think they'll hold it against us?"

"Who? Colonel Cain?

"No, Quox."

Neisha let out a sigh, James figured she had hoped the matter was over. "Some, probably. It was a bad day. We don't know how many were really killed though, could be they just stalled out on the bridge with a lot of mobility kills."

"I guess." He shrugged.

"What do you want to listen to?" She asked, changing the subject. "Who knows how much longer we'll have a built-in sound system, might as well use it."

After thinking for a moment, James decided. "Rare Oseans. Something off the second album." He thought for a second longer. "Ostland."

"Had to pick the saddest song off that LP, huh? Comin' right up."

The slow strings started to play as the background music for the flight home, James and Neisha began to mumble along with the music as they watched the snowy countryside fly by.

"It's a heavy night
And you know I'm a heavy sight
It's a lonesome home
My own cold case to comb
I could have done better
I could have done so much better
It was my bad
It was my bad
It was my bad
I'm all in
I'm all in
I'm all in
I'm all in
I'm all in
I'm all in
Ostland"

by **Kassaran** » Fri Jul 09, 2021 11:47 pm

2nd Lt. Marco "Rondine" Petraglia, Eagle Two
27 November, 2015 // Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

Watching as the silver streak of the Captain's Phantom dove away from the incoming flight of Frogfoots, Rondine pulled high and over, trying to maintain a level of awareness of the battlefield which had begun to change drastically. The mercenari squadrons had finished up their sector and had quickly pushed through into Bravo, cleaning it up and then moving on into Charlie. He admired their brave determinism and aggressive attack, but he had frowned when considering their risky tactics. He'd watched several of them provoke the still remaining SPAA present, and there was even a brief incursion by MANPADS in the airspace, but as his Phantom climbed ever higher, his eyes surveyed his battlefield from a newfound perch about 5km up. Smoke rose in columns, and the Estovakians were retreating.

Ghost Eye: <<ALCON ALCON! Unidentified enemy fighter incoming at high speed, IFF is squawking a Tornado, but it has radar cross section literally a mile wide. We'll begin an analysis.>>

Rondine smiled grimly as he leaned his helmet to the side, trying to get a view out of his cockpit for anything that could possibly explain the oddity, but finding nothing as Tasso reported the same. There wasn't many reasons for such a massive amount of return unless there was some sort of jamming going on, which he quickly deduced was the possibility. The flying cruiser of the Estovakian military had yet to be seen and even the Emmerian intelligence service could have found out if it was inbound. What came in next over the frequency drew his attention to briefs that had circulated in the month since he'd arrived and to an obscure bit of trivia that had come up in that time.

Ghost Eye: <<ALCON. We've completed an analysis of the enemy craft. A North Point Tornato ECR airframe sold to the Republic of Anea for the purposes of testing sixth generation avionics and ECM! It's a CFA-44 test bed! Someone get in there and take that beast down!>>

It wasn't more than a couple seconds later when Sciabola quickly came on the line.

Sciabola: <<Eagle Two and Three, engage that fighter. Jettison your air-to-ground load and get high. Rondine, take lead.>>

Rondine: <<Lead, Two. Wilco. Three, on me, off your three, two-kay above. Get eyes and climb to mine.>>

With that, Rondine rolled to his left and put his nose on the approaching anomalous signature. Hard spikes off his nose had him dumping his wing loads, the sudden sensation of his aircraft becoming responsive and lighter felt natural to him. His bird climbing in altitude for a brief moment before he nosed it lower and began to pour on the speed. Beaming the inbound missile spikes, his eyes looked for the telltale trace of any sort of smoke, before the spikes suddenly went away. The net was filled with the Estovakian Ace's voice and Rondine's frown grew. He audibly disconnected, but it didn't keep him from giving a short, curt response back.

Rondine: <<Yet, in the end, his words will mean nothing, just like his sacrifice. Limaf, get ready for a real fight.>>

Pulling a general lock on the center of the massive radar spike he watched as the approaching EW platform continued to jam his targeting systems, knowing that he could lock, but wouldn't hit anything. It didn't matter to Rondine. A testbed for EW and ECM wasn't going to be a dog-fighter. It was going to be a testbed made to dodging missiles and other defenses, which would mean he'd have to settle this in the old ways. His ways. He smiled behind his oxygen mask as he watched his speed increase and the distance to the massive radar signature drop.

Capt. Romolo "Sciabola" Beninati, Eagle One
27 November, 2015 // Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

The Frogfoot had only just gone down, and as Sciabola rolled his Phantom up into a higher altitude, he gave a quick roll to the side to look out the top of his canopy, searching for where the flaming wreckage of the bandit had ended up. He could see Tricky's Phantom also pulling up and into the sky, triumphant after having downed his aggressor. They were a skilled pilot, to be sure. He was about to compliment them on their kill when the channel lit up. He quickly took stock of the situation as the incoming fighter was identified and his eyes slid towards the fleeing Estovakian troops. Taking an evasive maneuver he dropped low, looking hard for the signs of any actual launches, his eyes and mind trying to deduce what had happened when the spikes suddenly dropped.

"Estovakian deception yet again. Typical of their kind. Paffuto, what's the SITREP for our folks?"

His back seater seemed to grow busy for a moment doing something before responding.

"Mercenari squadrons are pulling out. No words from Griffin yet. AWACS didn't give the disengage or abort for our mission yet, but enemy forces are in full retreat."

He nodded before keying in his radio. It wouldn't do to engage the retreating Estovakians. The damage was done, they wouldn't be continuing their fight here any longer and his munitions were running low as it was. He'd gotten lucky with his attacks, but he didn't want to risk any more approaches in the cluttered airspace, even with the mercenaries retreating.

Sciabola: <<Griffin One, Eagle One. My Two and Three are moving to intercept. I'll pull into a high orbit to assist with my Four unless you have other taskings for us.>>

by **Beiarusia** » Sat Jul 10, 2021 1:51 pm

Second Lieutenant Marceline “Mooncalf” Faucheux | Second Lieutenant Benjamin “Vigil” Antall
Morning // November 27, 2015 // Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

Marceline leveled out the Sukhoi. Wings forward-swept, they had climbed to mid-altitude, on station at near 4,000 meters to provide targeting assistance. Not that such help was required. Down below the highways of Sipli Plateau were littered with the smoking wrecks of tanks, trucks, and artillery. Assassin had neutralized Alpha Sector alongside Enforcer and had quickly eliminated what little resistance that remained in Bravo and Charlie. The enemy was now retreating, and although some felt it necessary to press the attack – be it personal grudge or the promise of payment – Marceline saw little point in doing so. Their objective had been achieved.

Unfortunately, the promise of an easy sortie was quickly tarnished by the AWACS sounding a new alert. A single contact accompanied by unusual radar interference. Marceline adjusted their heading, turning the Sukhoi to better align its own radar systems as she herself scanned the horizon for the bogey. No concern, just mindful of the incoming threat.

The Estovakians were speaking on open-comms.

Drakon: << I'm not killing them, I'm buying you all time. I'm disconnecting, good luck to you all. >>

“Are you hearing this?” she asked.

“I hear it, and I don’t know why. Our comms should be encrypted unless we’re receiving over an open channel. What’s his deal?” Vigil replied.

Before she could say anything more the RWR sounded a hard lock. One by one the aircraft flying overhead the snow fields went evasive, but as Marceline prepared to turn the Sukhoi into a dive the radio again chimed to life with enemy chatter, and in that moment she hesitated, caught by the words of the enemy pilot that had come alone to face them.

Drakon: << Do you hear me Emmerians? The name of he who has you in his sights is Zoran Mikulanec, I am him. To whoever it is who takes the plunge to engage me directly, I wish you the best of luck. My only desire in this world was to have a united country, and I did horrible things for it, and paid for it with my soul. Even now I am still paying by fighting a war I did not desire. I regret all of it, but it is my duty to protect those below me on the ground, just as it is yours. I know one of you will kill me, numbers alone are not on my side. These will be my final words. Goodbye, and I wish you the best of luck in winning your homeland back. >>

Her brother had been the same. A distinguished pilot who, near the war’s end, had been shot down over San Salvacion stalling the ISAF advance, and although the battle had been lost well before his unit’s arrival into the fray they had made possible the retreat of their allies. Again she had hope that, in the end, he had left behind no lingering regrets to tarnish the life he had lived, but as the RWR sounded, as Drakon calmly marched unto his demise, Marceline couldn’t help but to wonder just what her brother’s final thoughts had been so far away from home. Had he too left behind a farewell that had been lost to that night? Were his thoughts of home and family? Of the men he had sworn to protect?

Was he content in his futile endeavour to reach the infinite vastness of the skies above?

Something punched Marceline in the shoulder from behind. It was Vigil, and he was shouting to be heard over the obnoxious ringing of their instruments. “Wake up and go evasive! Now’s not the time Calf.”

The Sukhoi jerked into a sudden barrel roll as Marceline snapped back to focus, but no sooner had she completed the maneuver the RWR died away, and so too did the voice of the Estovakian pilot. Again she scanned the horizon, now having a visual on the tiger-striped Tornado and the two Unmanned Aerial Vehicles that had followed it into battle. The loose formation split as the UAV’s went on the offensive.

Ghost Eye: << Someone get in there and take that beast down! >>

Already Witness and Frog had drawn the ire of one of the UAV’s. As it targeted the Tiger II that had dipped low it was quickly and unceremoniously blown out of the sky by the MiG-21, and immediately after Frog’s voice filled the radio as she complained about the lacking difficulty of the interception.

The second UAV was making way to intercept targets in Charlie Sector. Frog had made quick work of hers, but the slow-moving gunships (or the helicopters should the UAV go low) were likely to fare significantly worse, and with elements of Assassin withdrawing only a handful of aircraft remained on-station to intercept. Marceline was in good position to do so. The Sukhoi again adjusted its heading, wings adjusted and sweeping back as the engine glowed red-hot with the afterburner.

“Missiles?” she asked over the intercom before announcing her attentions over the radio.

Mooncalf: << This is Assassin 2-1, engaging hostile UAV. >>

“The Atolls work fine,” Vigil acknowledged. “I trust you, just don’t get us killed.”

Everything looked green on her end. “We can turn back if you want.”

“Hell no! Put us in.”

As they closed distance the UAV grew in size. No longer an insignificant speck in the grey-blue sky of morning, but an alien-looking aircraft of sharp angles with several pinpoints of amber light atop the fuselage where its primary optics were situated. Smaller than most fighters by a significant degree and lacking visible munitions. The Sukhoi slipped smoothly to slot itself into a trailing position two klicks behind the target, and was gaining quickly, but the heat-seekers were having difficulty acquiring a positive lock-on. Between the cold air of elevation and the UAV generating much less heat than any normal aircraft, it took several long moments for the seeker heads to track the source. All the while the UAV continued on-course as if oblivious to the looming danger.

Vigil: << Fox-2. >>

The Atoll left the rail, shooting for the UAV at over twice the speed of sound. Marceline had expected an easy kill considering how easy Frog had dispatched her own target, but as the missile closed in the UAV suddenly pulled hard into an almost vertical pitch, and with its airspeed reduced to almost nothing, and dropping altitude, it was now moving in the opposite trajectory towards the Sukhoi with countermeasures marking its passage. Missile trashed by the combination of flares and extreme maneuvering, the UAV was again making speed and moving to intercept.

Vigil was practically contorting himself to keep eyes on target. “Trashed. Try again, you got one more shot, then it’s the guns. Kill the piece of scrap already. I’m tracking him.”

“Working on it,” was all she managed before a hail of gunfire tore into the air around them, and although unsuccessful the UAV was likely gauging the prefered angle-of-attack, and it did well enough to tank any additional missile launch.

Marceline banked into a turn to avoid a head-on pass, unwilling to risk a joust, and in kind the UAV turned into its own pursuit curve. Now pursued, she rolled into a Split-S as the UAV engaged, tracers passing dangerously close as the targeting software zeroed in. The UAV followed the maneuver with ease and was maintaining position on their six o’clock as if glued there. They didn’t have the fuel reserves to rely on simply outrunning the UAV, and Marceline was unsure if they even could, so again pitched the Sukhoi into an aggressive maneuver as more tracers danced past the cockpit, one sparking as it scored a glancing blow on the airframe.

Vigil tracked the UAV as it danced around them, from the left side of the cockpit to the right, practically jogging around in his seat. “He tagged us, the bitch. Pop the air brakes and turn, he’s too close on our tail. Make him overshoot and splash him.” He knocked on Marceline’s right shoulder, signaling her to break right. Vigil had never seen anything like this, and to think he thought the stories of the gargantuan Yuktobanian subs were hogwash.

“Hold on,” she grumbled, mostly to herself but loud enough to be heard over the protest of the engine, pulling hard on the control and sweeping forward the wings. The Sukhoi banked right and then rolled to bank left, bleeding airspeed as the air brakes bit into the atmosphere. The UAV recklessly followed into the Scissors movement. Marceline engaged the flaps to slow down further, repeating the cycle of banking right then left then right again, and with each pass the UAV drew closer, the whine of its engine an ominous thrum. Too close. The UAV rolled to avoid a direct collision, the camera “eyes” peering down from above and into the cockpit of the Sukhoi like that of a spider. It had overshot, and on the next pass it crossed ahead of them by maybe a dozen meters, and in that fraction of a second the cannon roared, the 30mm ammunition tearing past the UAV and striking the port wing.

Immediately the UAV tumbled out and away from the engagement with a trail of black smoke in its wake. Marceline again pulled into an aggressive maneuver, the G-forces weighing heavily on them as she quickly rolled to follow the UAV as it descended in an effort to quickly gather speed. She moved into her own Pursuit Curve to again slip behind it. The UAV’s maneuvering was hindered somewhat by the damage and the thick smoke was generating enough of a signature for the remaining heat-seeker to lock onto.

Vigil: << Fox -2. >>

The final missile streaked ahead, and again the UAV attempted to evade, dumping countermeasures as it pitched high into a Cobra so as to drop and turn, but Marceline expected this and had already angled herself for intercept. Without speed the UAV was defenseless.

Mooncalf: << Guns. >>

The cannon shredded the UAV, punching through and out the other side in a spray of oil and fragmentation. The amber lights of its optics flickered and then died as the machine went limp, falling apart as it fell defeated from the sky. Signal lost, the failsafe activated, and before it could impact the ground the UAV detonated, destroying itself and anything salvageable.

The Sukhoi circled overhead as the wreckage fell to earth. Marceline fell back into her seat, breathing heavily as if exhausted from the ordeal. They were out of munitions now and their fuel gauge was reading dangerously low. For now they were combat ineffective.

Vigil: << This is Assassin 2-2. Unmanned scrap destroyed. MoonVigil is Winchester and bingo fuel. RTB. >>

Marceline turned them back towards friendly lines, but as she did she again looked for the tiger-striped Tornado. Then, in a move that was uncharacteristic of her, she keyed the radio to an open channel.

Mooncalf: << This is Marceline Faucheux of Erusea to Mikulanec. I don’t know if you can hear me, but you remind me of someone, and I hope that you find peace in the skies just as they did. I wish you well on your journey. >>

Vigil leaned around her seat inquisitively before settling back into his own, shrugging his shoulders as he relaxed on their way back to base. "Guessing you don't need to talk about it?" he said over their intercom. Silence was her response.

Soon thereafter they had left the airspace.

COMBAT LOG

by **Kyraina** » Sun Jul 11, 2021 3:00 am

1st Lt Tyler "Razorback" Bradford, Sciario 1
November 27, 2015 // Zone Charlie, Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

Razorback had executed a right pylon turn and was coming back around when the Stovies forces started retreating. He listened to the call from Ghosteye and then radar systems, and RWR went crazy, and then a Stovie said some stuff that Razorback, Knight, and the crew for sure understood, but the difference was, while it sounded like the ace had given in to a terrible government, the Crew Men of Sicario 1 got to choose who and what cause they got to fight for. Then the crewmen then saw they faced a moral dilemma

Razorback: "What should we do here Knight? They are in full retreat but they will show up later."

Knight: "We hit them, we keep them running, we demoralize them, we do this for a minute then we break off before we over extend and get in a ambush."

Sharps: "That doesn't sound very Knight like."

Knight: "Even Knights did stuff like this on the ground in the olden days."

Hud: "We didn't do shit like this in the Circum-Pacific War."

Knight: "From what I heard and Saw, when y'all started to whoop on the Yukes, they often did fighting retreats and crowded the airspace so they could do a full retreat. Though I'll see this, I'm gonna hate this."

Belle: "He right you know?"

Pops: "We know"

<<Sicario-1, it's Sicario-2. Glory notes several units of dismounts withdrawing. Knight, you know how this goes. What say we draw a line halfway through, you take the left, we take the right, copy?>>

Knight: <<Copy that Sicario-2, Sicario-1 will engage. I don't know how this works but Razorback here does. We got eyes on them, and they won't have time to wish they had found a vic.>>

Pops: "I got them. They are at our 1030 O'Clock."

Razorback: "Copy that Pops. Hud, You Belle, and Doc keep things going smoothly back there like y'all have then."

He got a confirmation over internal comms. He put the gunship on path and then started a left pylon turn around a couple infantry formations, sighted and pull the trigger. Vibrations could be felt throughout the gunship as the 4 miniguns, and the 2 Vulcans sang the song of their people. The formations were soon replaced by a pink miss and some body parts. This was repeated twice more, wiping out the rest of the Infantry in Charlie.

Razorback: "We got a Bump over there, it looks like it was waiting on the infantry we wiped out. Let's hit him if he stupid enough to stop."

Knight didn't look at Razorback. He wasn't a gunship pilot and you could tell, but he knew it was part of the Job, One of the many things, giving time he'd get over, otherwise he wouldn't have made it this far as a combat pilot.

Before Razorback could start a pylon turn over the bmp, the BMP turned it turret towards the Gunship and opened up, but the Gunship was to high and the bullets passed just below the gunship. Razorback lined up the sights and pressed the trigger. The 6 guns on the gunship started singing, with the rounds from the Minigun bounced off the hull, but the 20mm APDS tore through the BMP, and it eventually detonated.

Hud: "Razorback, Knight, its Hud. We are out of 20mm, we are about Useless here know. Let's go home."

<<Knight, Glory. Sicario-2 confirming destruction of five foot mobile groupings as well as a... Bump. I'll explain over drinks when we land.>>

Razorback: <<How in the......>>

Knight: <<Ignore him, if two fools in a gunship could do that with just miniguns it'd be you two fools. We are out of 20mm. We are RTB>>

Capt. Spyro "Drifter" Beretta, Griffin 1, Lion 1
November 27, 2015 // Zone Charlie, Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

Drifter heard everything that Ghosteye and the Stovie said. He kept looking at his status board and seeing everything green despite the smoke coming out of the Engine of his Crusader. He watched the Stovie Troops do a full retreat over a fighting retreat and start to get even more decimated by the Mercs, then the call came from Sciabola asking what to do.
Bastard, screwed up so he asking what to do other then Have his 2 and 3 take on that damn Plane, so he doesn't take the fall if he makes a screwed up call with him and his number 4. Fine alright.

Drifter: <<All Griffin Callsigns, Griffin 1. IF you have Air to Ground Ordnance left and your not tied up with Enemy Aircraft, hit those retreating Stovies. Then pull back and provide cover for and if need be assist Eagle 2 and 3,>>

Drifter spotted a trio of T-72s pulling back and trying to hurry back but was caught in the traffic of a full uncoordinated retreat, so He gained a little Altitude, and started a dive bombing run, released a bomb, and started the process all over two more times. The three tanks exploded just a couple minutes apart. About that time Drifter noticed he was losing fuel weight and oil pressure.

Drifter: Griffin Squadron, I've taken damage, I'm RTB. Lion 2 you're in Charge of Lion flight. You and Eagle 1 will make sure everyone in the squadron gets home.>>

Drifter flew away from the battle field and back home.

by **The Oshian Federation** » Sun Jul 11, 2021 5:05 pm

2LT Henrietta "Limaf" Middleton
27.Nov.2015
Sipli, Emmeria

"Correct that, there are no shilkas alive... also that cyka blyat should frankly mind her own bloody business." Annette Middleton muttered under her breath as the mercenaries arrived from her left cleaned up the Hinds and the remaining AA, delivering a not inconsiderable amount of vitriol her flight's way. After having nearly spiked a friendly with the Sparrow guidance beam moments earlier she and Mathilda were now pretty leery about putting a laser near the complete mess that was occurring down on the ground.
Actually, she was pretty sure that the radar beam had caught in its embrace the F-5 as well as the Frogfoot that was being chased, as such they aborted that shot as their Fox One descended towards the pair. With not much else to do other than observe at her lofty heights (energy she wasn't about to waste by going down to the deck trying to boom and zoom helicopters flying at what seemed suicidal altitudes for a Phantom), she put the plane in a gentle left hand orbit, waiting to gain a clear shot through the melee at the Stovies now in retreat.

That changed when some Stovie announced himself on their radio (seriously they need to fix that) and then put a big spike on them all. Lightly waggling her wings a bit and looking back at the source that just locked her up, she saw on thermals that it looked like a Tornado of sorts. Clearly the Stovies have smacked on loads more electronic equipment for the memes, and the lock was just to give them a jolly old fright.
The new command from flight lead dashed these irrelevant thoughts from her mind and Anntte replied as she should.
<<Eagle Three roger. Will form with Two to engage the Tornado. Be advised I can only bring the gun to bear.>>
Truth to be told, fighting an ace in a melee was a prospect Annette found to be just a little too exciting, even if it was against such a unmanoeuvrable turd like a Tornado.

by **Kassaran** » Sun Jul 11, 2021 11:37 pm

Capt. Romolo 'Sciabola' Beninati, Eagle One
27 November, 2015 // Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

The ground was aflame with the wreckage of burning vehicles and littered with bodies, and yet far above the carnage, was the hurtling form of Sciabola's Phantom as he brought it around back towards the battlefield, having climbed to about three kilometers over the battlefield itself. Looking around, he visually noted his Squadron leader begin to peel away from the fight, leaking some sort of fluids and not looking above the weather.

And that's why he hadn't risked dropping so low.

While Rondine and Limaf had no doubt already dumped their munitions, there was the matter of his Four, which had been relatively attuned to the fight once stuck in. He hadn't kept track of their confirmed kills, but he'd known that they'd racked up an impressive figure in damages already, and with Drifter's departing orders, Sciabola figured that number was about to climb. His targeting pod slewed towards the morasses of retreating infantry of vehicles across the plateau. The wide, open spaces they'd once been holding, were now to become their graves as they had to make the mad dash towards their own lines. The Estovakians had overreached and it was now time to punish them.

Sciabola: <<Eagle Four, Eagle One. What state and how copy?>>

Waiting on the response, his eyes turned to survey where he'd seen Rondine and Eagle Three move to intercept the inbound fighter. Well, Tornado that was. The Phantom was an aging airframe and where the Tornado would have it pinned by ECM across the board, the Phantom had the benefit of speed and options. There had been a grim determinism in the pilot's voice as he'd signed off, and knowing Rondine, it had only served to annoy the younger pilot. They were warriors and not orators. Marco had always been the aggressive and impatient type, but his impressive aptitude for flying had long ago landed him in Sciabola's inner circle. If things were moving according to plan, there'd soon be another on the airfield.

Below, the world seemed to hurtle by and his targeting pod drew up on the fleeing forms of dozens of infantry pushing across an open expanse roughly a mile across. His eyes shone with a murderous glee as he recognized a T-72 had taken up refuge in travelling among the infantry unit and his targeting computer pulled up the bomb's drop solution. A second later, he released it and peeled away as it fell free through the air along it's intended path, the JDAM making minor course corrections, but otherwise sailing true as an arrow.

Sciabola: <<Eagle One, Pickle.>>

It was a simple joy he'd received in having dropped the ordnance, and watching out of his cockpit canopy as he peeled away, the TGP guided the JDAM true and forth into the engine deck of the T-72, setting it off as a moment later, it detonated with a brilliant flash of ash and heat. The sizeable shockwave travelled for a second and registered through the Phantom's flight controls as a slight jitter as he saw the rising smoke and debris cloud from the wreck. Around the vehicle, infantry that had taken up refuge around the tank on their retreat were laid out in varying stages of injury. No doubt, across the entire field they'd chosen to retreat through, the detonation had registered a violent enough shock to have blown out eardrums at it's edges. Rotating back in, his eyes picked up the foremost formations of infantry that had now begun to enter total panic and begun to run for the opposite woodline.

"Paffuto, take off the JDAM guidance package, we're going kinetic on these fools. Get me a drop solution on the foremost line of infantry, no lead. They aren't fast enoug hanyways."

As the field slowly lined up again off of the Phantom's nose, he could see that a figure or two whom had dropped all their gear, had reached the outermost refuges of the stands of trees that had made up the edge of an orchard. The majority of those behind them, however, would not be as lucky. The bombing indicator lit as Sciabola's Phantom slowly began to rise again, and the first bomb fell off the racks, dumb as a doornail, but no less effective in the carnage it was going to wreak a moment later. A second after, the second bomb fell away from the rack, and the second following gave leave to a final JDAM to fall off the racks. Terminal approach was granted from the moment they'd separated.

Sciabola: <<Eagle One, Three Pickles.>>

Below, the once serene pasture the Estovakians had trespassed upon, became the grave of dozens as the earth erupted, and hot iron mixed with flesh and bone to devastating effect.

2nd Lt. Marco 'Rondine' Petraglia, Eagle Two
27 November, 2015 // Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

The fight was on almost as quickly as Rondine had made visual contact through his FLIR targeting pod. His HUD had quickly relayed the general location of the aircraft back to him and so Rondine put his nose on the aircraft roughly a kilometer short his altitude, and ten times that in distance. The pipper buzzed angrily, indicating it was having difficulty getting a lock, but with the Tornado quickly closing, Rondine focused as he tracked the number into the 5 kilometer range, then 4, then 3.

Rondine: <<Eagle Two, Fox One! Three, Crank left.>>

His Phantom slammed hard to the right, the chaff and countermeasures counter ticking down as he pulled out, and then turned back in. The Sparrow had gone wild the second Rondine had turned aside, trying to follow the emissions reflection before suddenly detonating as it slammed into the trees. He grimaced, fighting the urge to fall asleep, to let the blood flow from his head and into his chest, throug hhis stomach and to pool in his legs. In the back seat, Tasso was calling out the enemy ECM testbed's movements. It had pulled hard away from him, exposing it's rear.

Rondine: <<Eagle Two, Hot. Fox One. Trashed. Climbing, Three, roll in and engage.>>

The heavy bird had managed to turn back in, but as the second sparrow dropped away from Phantom, the Tornado seemed to suddenly deploy a mist from its wings. Clouds of chaff sprayed out from the craft's hidden compartments and recessed sections as Rondine pulled his jet vertical. The heavy engines screamed and protested as they rushed through the air, fighting the gravity of the planet below as the fuel poured into the burning exhaust and pushed the pilot and WSO that much deeper into the cushioned flight seats. The rough maneuver was putting stress again on the airframe and somewhere in the back of Rondine's mind, he considered that he might need to get a new Phantom after this, or at least a total overhaul and refit of this one if he landed any harder than a feather on approach. These old airframes were high on hours and for the last decade had been low on maintenance.

Rondine: <<Eagle Three, Two, there's some sort of massive flare and chaff dispenser system on that bird. Keep him spiked, but stay frosty. I don't think he did it on- Missile! Missile! Defending! He's got rear-facing missiles! I repeat! Bandit has rear-facing missiles!>>

Rondine's head raced through his options as he slammed back on the throttle, dropping the engines to near-flameout conditions and rolled the nost to the right, pushing the right rudder pedal and holding onto his lunch barely as his sense of time, space, and direction went to trash. Countermeasures rapidly began to deplete and in a moment, all he could see was a flashing digital zero on his HUD where once there'd been more. He was kinetic and naked against a better equipped adversary, but he'd managed to climb in altitude sharply enough that the missile had flashed past him in its aggressive upwards turn. One second later on his climb and it would have had him as he saw the horizon slowly come into view and the four kilometers of altitude he'd obtained above the ground slowly shrunk in response.

Turning back in towards the Tornado as it had begun to turn down below, he watched as it tried to maneuver to put Limaf on its tail, but the wanring Rondine had given had worked well enough. The Phantom hadn't taken a shot yet with missiles, and for a moment Rondine was concerned until Tasso reminded him.

"No missiles, they only had their guns for this."

Watching, Rondine wasn't sure if they'd shot yet, but if they had, there was no sign of it in the Tornado as it had continued to juke and jink along it's set approach. It had seemed to suddenly turn and charge the battlefield where the AO had been defined. Rondine's mind trying to understand the maneuver until he realized that Sciabola had taken up sport in hunting the retreating Estovakians. The Ace was here to prevent those deaths, to prevent those losses... and he had also come to die. Rondine's Phantom shuddered as he opened up the throttle and the afterburners began to pour on fuel into the fire. Below and several kilometers ahead, Limaf had pulled off, risking an overshoot if they had overdedicated to their last attempted approach. Watching, he continued to press his high-altitude approach on the Tornado.

"Tasso, get me guns. No Radar."

The rushed response came as the distances closed and Rondine called out his warning.

Rondine: <<Sciabola! Juke! He's coming right at you!>>

The Phantom didn't seem to react initially, but a maelstrom of lights and shining chaff spewed out from the Phantom as it turned hard. Below and behind it, the fields it had been bombarding and assaulting seemed to radiate angry black clouds of smoke as Rondine realized he was about to lose the Tornado in the ground clutter. He had closed to just under a kilometer, but watching the Tornado begin to pull up, aiming for a shot on Sciabola as he maneuvered, low on energy and speed from his attack runs, Rondine gave a grimace and shook his head. The pilot had been willing to stay behind and hold off the enemy for as long as it took to save his countrymen's lives. In defending theirs, he'd give his. The poetry he'd sought in his final actions, and they'd no doubt be relegated only to the tales of the fools that had flown for the Junta. He had chosen poorly in attacking the man Rondine had grown to respect most, and pulling the trigger, he watched as the stream of cannon fire lanced out through the sky.

Rondine: <<Eagle Two, Guns.>>

There was a moment as Rondine screamed past the Tornado that it seemed he'd missed the enemy craft with the high deflection shot. He'd been sure he'd hit the aircraft as the tracers had seemed to bisect the fuselage, but he couldn't be sure if he'd truly struck it. It simply continued up in a lazy, unconcerned climb for a moment. Then, it was suddenly ablaze as the fuel detonated within the jet and rocked it violently forward before shredding it in half. Rondine watched, his breath catching as he saw the Tornado's frame begin to gyrate wildly and enter a flat spin as it leveled off, the tail assembly shearing apart, followed by the ruined right wing as the jet entered a fast, chaotic, and uncontrolled spinning dive towards the ground. Smoke pouring off of it in its dramatic plummeting fall. Rondine's eyebrows dropped, his eyes searching for any sign that the pilot was going to bail out, that they had escaped.

He watched for the chute all the way down, and even then had searched for a minute after the plane had slammed down into a vineyard, sending a spray of snow, smoke, and dirt in every direction and staining the landscape with it's wreckage. Looking away, his frown cemented itself to his face for the long flight home.

Capt. Romolo 'Sciabola' Beninati, Eagle One
27 November, 2015 // Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

Sciabola: <<Good kill Eagle Two. You and Three, return to base. Four and I will stay on station here and clean up. I still have a couple minutes before I'm Joker fuel. Need to find homes for these JDAMs. I think that'll be all for Estovakian air cover for today. Four, engage those T-72's, and then form up on me. We're going to put on speed for Charlie. They have light armor there and they'll be focusing on expediting. Sicario Two, Eagle 1. I need targets for four JDAMs. Mind getting me and my wingman targets momentarily?>>

Watching as the battlefield slowly began to sweep by under his Phantom, he felt his eyes checking the RWR every few moments until finally he was sure nothing new was going to appear in the skies over Sipli. The Estovakians had brought this upon themselves and now they'd reap the rewards for what they'd sown in their invasion of Emmeria.

by **Anowa** » Mon Jul 12, 2021 1:15 am

1st Lt. Victoria "Abel" Cain
November 27th, 2015 // Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

Abel was, for lack of a better term, livid, at the fact the so called officer that lead her squadron was deciding to order people to drop bombs on Non Factor vehicles and personnel. It enraged her even more than from what she could see the only people fucking off back home were those without armament. The scene as a whole didn't paint any of her comrades in a good light.

Circling around Charlie, Abel's eyes were drawn to the ground and the chaos therin. Most vehicles had been damaged to the point of being abandoned, or had stopped with their crews slowly disembarking. She could see a number of infantry units trying in vain to tend to absolutely ruined corpses. Some folks were aimlessly walking back and forth in shell shock. All the trucks were either openly burning, blown to shit or...

Abel: <<Jesus Christ...>>

... an Ural smouldering from it's engine bay and with a number of holes in it's metal canopy and driver's compartment. On top was a man waving a black flag, a stark contrast to both the white surroundings and the white camoflauged hull.

Abel: <<Break Break! Combatants at Charlie are surrendering! They're waving the Black Flag.>> a pregnant pause on net, <<With the number of wounded I can see from up here it wouldn't be wise to bomb them, anymore anyways. I can't count how many wounded there are.>>

Ghost Eye: <<Understood Griffin-Two. All aircraft, RTB. Harvester Squadron is en route to provide top cover from here on out. I'd be ready for the debrief, I don't think Colonel Cain is gonna be all too happy.>>

MISSION 02: OPERATION COMBINE
DEBRIEF

The pilots from the day's operation were all piled into the auxilliary briefing room. A small stack of AARs on a table at the front were piled in front of Colonel Cain, not from everyone involved, but mostly flight leads, one from Ghost Eye and a few of it's crew, some from the Navy Helo crews, etc. The man had a look on his face that was an odd mix of anger and understanding. Likely anger at the losses and the incompetence and the actions that resulted in them, but still understanding why they had occured. Unfortunately, it looked like anger was winning. He'd fought in two of the bloodiest wars of the turn of the century, he knew his way around airland battle. Yet he still hadn't seen everything that could happen.

"Right, so I'll get the hard shit out of the way, Quox. Vehicular losses are... Bad. Three Challenger 2s were rendered destroyed, and four more were written off after the fact due to extensive hull damage. Seven total." a sigh "13% of our Challenger 2 inventory is now rotting in a parking lot on base until the war's end, because we sure as fuck can't repair them. Centauro losses, of every chassis type, institute four total, three after the fact were written off, and the one that got wrecked immediately took a hit to the engine, sabot blew through it, lit up the gas tank near the rear of the vehicle. It was the command Vic, so the acting Battalion Commander, was killed, we don't know instantly or not. Only survivor of that vic was the driver who had to have a leg amp-... well not amputated it was already gone. But, point stands."

"Body count of the MBTs is 10 dead, 11 injured out of 28 total from afflicted Challys. Centauro crews and passengers is 26 wounded, 15 dead. Steel Gunners got lucky, their vics only got mobility killed, mild injuries from close calls."

"Moving on to the proper 'what went wrong and how not to fucking do it again' we'll start with the prelude for the battle."

"Order given out generally were summed up as 'The offensive will begin when air cover arrives to the AO.' This was widely interpreted correctly by all officers except for the acting commander of Quox. Who, unfortunately, interpreted said orders as 'begin crossing when the air cover arrives in the AO.' We'll get to that. Warlock was supposed to reinforce Quox and Steel Gunners after they crossed their respective bridges, this never happened for a few reasons. Steel Gunners got the cards right, but it was a bad hand."

"We'll start with Alpha. Their primary goal in the operation was to act as bait. As a massive build up, Warlock was supposed to willfully act as the sacrificial lamb against an attempted Stovie crossing. Hopefully to perhaps draw attention away from the other groups. Two major things went wrong: First, the Stovies didn't fall for it when zero hour came, this stems from Quox jumping the gun, again, explain in a bit. Second, OPFOR at Alpha were routed so fast that they didn't have time to properly report in. That in of itself isn't a bad thing, Hitman you did good, it's just that this time it just so happened to cascade into a shitshow when everything else came tumbling along. There's nothing really you could've changed there that would've made things better I don't think."

"As a result, there was some confusion even on Warlock's front as to what they were to do now that they sat literally unopposed for a crossing. At the same time, the clusterfuck at Bravo was ensuing which was choking ground nets. They were supposed to reinforce Quox and Steel Gunners after crossing. That never happened during our operation."

"Bravo, as you can guess, got fucked. Three primary factors weigh in to this: One, Quox misinterpreted orders. As I stated before, the acting commander jumped the gun in interpreting orders. As a result when the crossingf began, it was bad luck the command vehicle got nailed forst and command chain decayed from there, as Quox already had a fucked command chain to begin with. That happens when your acting commander is a newly minted Lieutenant. However, this issue wouldn't have been catastrophic had the following not happened." the man picked up a small collection of stapled papers and flipped it open.

"These are a collection of black box inputs and radio calls from Griffin squadron, organized to not be overlapping, and I quote "Lion-1, Lion-2. Eagle flight is ten clicks off the deck and watching Bravo get pummeled." black box data indicates this is damn near on the nose as at this same time, Eagles One, Two and Three, are at 10,000 meters or within 100 meters of said altitude, while Eagle Four is actively climbing at almost fifty degrees." the man set the paper down and took a deep breath, "For those of you not in the know, Emmerian Air Force Bombardiers are told that ten kilometers is how high B-52s are supposed to be for carpet bombings. Precision bombings are to drop to Angels Nine where their bombing computers have a better time calculating, but there's still time to respond to SAM locks, but that's for optimal conditions."

"Eagle Flight, I can't yell at Quox's lead because he's a charred fucking corpse, but I can yell at you eight. Your F-4Es have a bombing computers outright stop working above, what? Angels Six? Which is still well above the ceiling for most SHORAD. And if it isn't idling at Angels Ten sure as fuck isn't gonna save you, anything in the Stovie inventory that can reach higher than six klicks has a ceiling higher than yours. That doesn't account what the wind, cloud cover, and fucking sun will do to your bombing runs at that height. Which tells me you all either have your heads up your ass, or you're afraid of a fucking occupational hazard. Unfuck yourselves, this is not the time in your lives to be pursuing your dreams of becoming an astronaut."

"Beretta!" His head had all but whipped to the side to lock with Drifter's eyes, "Keep a goddamn eye on your subordinates. You're a squadron leader now, that means you have to be responsible for once in your fucking life, and buying a goddamn Charger at a 30% interest rate doesn't count. I should be able to phone you at three in the goddamn morning after you've been downing rip its and go pills for 72 hours, and in the middle of a 9-G turn, and you should still be able to tell me where the butter bars and minty Captain you have to wrangle are. having your third in command have a better grasp on that than you is unacceptable."

"Assassin, this includes you at this point, radio coherency ate shit at about the same time Quox did. No matter how warranted, calling someone a bumbling moron isn't conducive to maintaining an air of calm and collected radio calls. The AWACs can't do his job when he's got a squadron bickering in his ear along with ground forces losing their shit in a Mass CAS. Back to you Cutlass, you fucking clown. We've lost no less than a dozen frequencies to Stovie SIGINT based on frequency hopping. If you compromise another channel like that -which is how the fucking ace you shot down managed to communicate with you- you will be spending the rest of your life in a fucking cell. That goes for all of you. You change frequencies when the AWACs tells you and no other time."

"Moving to Charlie. The issues here were along the lines of shit priorities. Sicario, if you don't have anti tank and rotary wings do, prioritize the fucking AA that can shred the rotaries that has a roof armor thinner than Serpent's fucking hairline. Instead of spitballing light armor and forcing the rotaries to waste gas sitting in defilade. Carpenter and Yellow Jacket were effectively useless until Bravo got raped, and that was CSAR rather than actual CAS."

"In short, Enforcer, your the MVP by default, congratu-fucking-lations. The standard is now so low I could dig over that fucking bar. You're all dismissed, get the fuck out of my sight."

by **Tayner** » Tue Jul 13, 2021 1:56 am

Captain Samuel 'Merlin' Daniel
November 27th, 2015 // Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

For the rest of the sortie, Dan stayed on station, covering the allied armor and standing by for a call for assistance in the tangle with the ace, but thankfully his help was unneeded. However, some of his compatriots went to work on the retreating enemies, eventually watching as they showed a black flag. Entire infantry companies, convoys, retreating tanks, and anything else that held the Estovakian flag was relentlessley engauged, a path of destruction was left on the roads of Sipli.

Ghost Eye: <<Understood Griffin-Two. All aircraft, RTB. Harvester Squadron is en route to provide top cover from here on out. I'd be ready for the debrief, I don't think Colonel Cain is gonna be all too happy.>>

Merlin: << You heard him Hitman, form up, and let's get home. >>

Dan loathed what came next. He knew Tombstone, Jason, for a long time. The man would probably need some blood pressure medication to get him through his rant without going into cardiac arrest, not because he was old but because he could get angry enough and stressed enough to get to that point. I'd be frustrated too if I had to deal with half the shit he deals with.

Captain Samuel 'Merlin' Daniel
November 27th, 2015 // Campagna Airport, Vitoze, Emmeria

The breifing was long, and Dan had submitted his AAR detailing events from his prespective and accepting responcability for the actions of his subordinates. He lingered behind only long enough to give a shrug to Jason. The mission was fucked but we came through. He thought, his face reflecting that. If we were supposed to be the bait, why weren't we told that? He thought as he sighed, following the rest out the door. Just another day in paradice. His eyes fell on Miriam, who was amongst the many vacating the debreifing room.

"Lochte," Dan started, speaking loud enough to get her attention but not loud enough to turn every head in the area. His tone wasn't angry, more tired with a hint a general frustration as he spoke. "You know what I'm gonna bitch about, so I'll save us both the time and cut to the chase. Don't let it happen again, play nice with the Emmerians. If they don't want to play nice, let me know, I'll handle it." He stated. "Good flying out there, otherwise." He added, as to not completley sour her mood. No doubt Lochte's been getting shit from about everyone, but there's enough shit to go around. Dan figured, before heading off, leaving her little time to get a responce in.

Dan sought out Griffin's lead, finding one Captain Spyro Beretta soon enough. Dan knew the man in passing, but from his earlier words towards Sciabola on the comms, and from what he gathered during staff meetings and a few interactions, knew he was a more outspoken and brash indivisual. It'd be better to resolve anything now before tensions between pilots grew any higher. We can't fight the Stovies if we're too busy fighting eachother. He thought before getting the man's attention.

"Hey, Cap." He said as he approached, with what politieness he could muster in his tone. "Got a minute?"

by **Kyraina** » Tue Jul 13, 2021 10:51 pm

Capt. Spyro "Drifter" Beretta
November 27th, 2015 // Campagna Airport, Vitoze, Emmeria

The debrief had went like expected. The Mercs got praised cause they did there job to the letter, other then Sciario Flight, but hell the gunships were outgunned by the Shilkas from the get go and we're big fat slow moving targets, more then likely they would have been shredded by the AA. Eagle flight got a new one eat into them and then Beretta got slammed to make matters even worse. His first battle he did fine, but in the pitched battle he had suffered. Coming from being Cargo didn't really help, as he was use to having a crew help him keep track of things, but in the Crusader he didn't have that luxury or to him something that was required. He needed a backseater and fast. He knew he was in way over his head and was having trouble adjusting, plus he was realized he wasn't being a good leader in this past battle. He let his emotions over ride his reason in hitting the clearly routed Estovikian forces, but the whole situation over Bravo had pissed him off to no end, and the comments from Tombstone, weren't helping.

God He was mad, and wanted to hit something, but that wasn't going to do anything more then hurt him then He heard a voice had came up behind him as he had walked through the halls, to who knew where.

"Hey, Cap." He said as he approached, with what politieness he could muster in his tone. "Got a minute?"

Drifter stopped in his tracks and looked at the Much older man with Anger in his eyes, but then he took a few deep breaths as he closed his eyes. After he struggled for a second he opened up his eyes composed. He decided to show respect to the the Man in charge of the Foregin volunteer squadron, because first of all it might mend the gap, and second of all it let Spyro have more time to get his emotions under control. He had a rep already of being hotheaded, out spoken, and a quick temper. Thing He didn't want to rear their ugly head here and make things worse between the two squadrons.

"Yes sir, I got a minute, and sorry If I'm a bit tense or a bit angry, We got shafted pretty hard today. More then a little mad about for getting blamed for things that were outside my control. This world is all new to me as far as being a fighter jock goes." Spyro seemed to relax a little bit more as the words had left his mouth.

1st Lt. Tyler "Razorback" Bradford/1st Lt (Brig Gen-Retired-Again) Zach "Knight" Steele
November 27th, 2015 // Campagna Airport, Vitoze, Emmeria

With 6 crew members to take care of the after combat care of the Stinger, Tyler and Zach had went to the debrief after both had filled out AARs. Things hadn't gone as smoothly as they had wanted but it could have gone alot worse as well. Battle was always a roll of a dice to Tyler and this time they had enough advantageous that their fuck ups hadn't jeopardize the battle. Sciario had been hit with not being active enough on taking out the AA, but the gunships on been heavily outgunned in that endeavor. They had quietly listened to the whole debrief and at being dismissed they stood up with the others.

Zach: "Tyler, go back and have a meeting with the crew. I'm gonna stay and talk to Col. Cain."

Tyler: "You think that's a good idea? He looks pretty pissed."

Zach: "Yeah, I'll be fine. He and I go way back lad. It's not like he can ram me with that supped up F-15 of his while we are on the ground."

Tyler looked at Zach in confusion.

Tyler: "What does that mean?"

Zach "Nothing, Don't worry about it. Now go to the Lads and Lassies."

Tyler nodded and ran off. He was glad to be away from the pissed off Emmerian COL.

Zach walked over to where Jason was at, and stood in front of a Man he hadn't seen in 22 years.

"You know, I like the You I can actually see the anger in now. I don't have to worry about if I'm gonna get rammed in the back by a plane and join the unlucky bastard you made paste over Antarctica."

by **Sapim** » Wed Jul 14, 2021 5:37 am

2nd Lt.Helena "Bono" Martiz
November 27th, 2015 // Campagna Airport, Vitoze, Emmeria

1400

IImmediately after the debrief I tried to talk to 1st Lt.Takhmina, but the room was so crowded I couldn't reach her so I decided to wait for the night. Walking around the base I realize that everyone in the base looked at me and whispered saying.

Emmerian Soldier One:"Hey wasn't she the one who attacked that retreating Estovakian unit?"

Emmerian Soldier Two:"Yea, she was the mission's black box revealed that she attacked at the exact moment 1st Lt.Takhmina ordered the squad to withdraw"

I knew that shit had flown on the fan and that I had a target in the crosshairs of the base staff.

2000

I knock on the Lieutenant's quarters door seeing that she must not respond and not attract the attention of the patrol soldiers.I start to speak Yuktubanian, it's been a while since I spoke the language the last time was in my 15 years when I lived for 3 years in Yuktubania due to a job offer from my mother.

Bono: *"Lieutenant open the door I need to talk to you, I know I've done such a fool that I could have marked the entire battalion and even more the squad. I swear on the soul of my father and my Sapinish blood that I won't kill any more units who have surrendered or who are on the run. Just let me have the opportunity to speak with you face to face, Lieutenant"

*Translated from Yutubanian

After a while trying and trying, I gave up and went back to my dorm and lay down waiting for a new day and another mission.

by **Tayner** » Wed Jul 14, 2021 1:28 pm

Captain Samuel 'Merlin' Daniel
November 27th, 2015 // Sipli Plateau, Emmeria

"Yes sir, I got a minute, and sorry If I'm a bit tense or a bit angry, We got shafted pretty hard today. More then a little mad about for getting blamed for things that were outside my control. This world is all new to me as far as being a fighter jock goes." The Emmerian captain said to him.

"Aye, it's a bit different, isn't it?" Dan said, having had experienced flying freight a long time ago. Why they had put Beretta directly into a command was a little curious though, rank or no it was often good practice to have a leader earn their stripes before they step up. "Skip the 'sir' stuff, lad, we're the same rank. I just wanted to talk to you so we could see eye to eye on things going foward. I've already talked to my people about playing nice, you should do the same with yours. I don't want issues like this causing any more complications in the air, we don't need to send any more people home in boxes than we already have. If any issues arise moving foward, you and me will work them out like reasonable men instead of our subordinates hashing it out. That sound fair?" Dan spoke evenly as he tried to pick his words carefully.

by **Hastur** » Wed Jul 14, 2021 2:42 pm

MISSION 02: OPERATION COMBINE
First Lieutenant Miriam “Rattler” Lochte
Sipli Plateau, Emmeria // November 27, 2015

“Christ.” Muttered Miriam. The devastation they had left in their wake had been significant. Her eyes pursued the fowl of prey as they clutched apart retreating ground forces, twisted wreckages and charred corpses left strewn through the fresh silver sleet. A black flag bloomed from ground level, hardly a mite from her elevation, signifying their surrender. It seemed almost gratuitous, unnecessary. The opposition was done. But that was war, chaos manifest.

Ghost Eye: <<Understood Griffin-Two. All aircraft, RTB. Harvester Squadron is en route to provide top cover from here on out. I’d be ready for the debrief. I don’t think Colonel Cain is gonna be all too happy.>>

Thankfully, the controller of the sky heralded the conclusion. Allowing them the order to return home thanks to their being no legitimate targets left for them to fight. The battle had been a mentally and physically tiring ordeal. Her flight had effectively covered three sectors, moving between them to take out targets left, right and center. Even then, they still took substantial avoidable losses on the ground. The specific numbers she wouldn’t be positive about until informed during the debriefing.

Miriam wasn’t confident about how to feel about all of it. A feeling of bitterness churning away as they passed over the bridge for the last time, heading home. They had done their best, propelled themselves to close to their limit to pick up slack, but was it sufficient? Somehow, she didn’t think it was.

The debriefing was precisely as the AWACS had proposed. Long, laborious, and stocked with expletives as their commander broke down the situation with a grimace locked onto his face. Going over each detail with an insult for someone for not doing their job right. Even one of the few positive things he said came with the two caveats.

Their actions had been rendered worthless by Quox jumping the gun, and even if that had not of happened, their quick success in alpha would have meant they would have had a limited effect anyway, with the squadron supposed to be a distraction to draw attention away rather than mopping up offensive targets. Both instances contributed to part of the failure. The commander had neglected to advise them of that. In fact, he had neglected to advise them of much of anything in the briefing. If Miriam remembered correctly, it was scant.

Miriam scoffed silently from the tail of the room, rubbing her brow in a mixture of frustration and awe at his comment, before she returned her groggy attention span to him. The aging man continued at the front, now moving onto the bravo as he dressed down everyone involved in the situation who he had a remote complaint against publicly and with vitriol. Eagle got the brunt for their actions during the fight, along with Lion, but her flight, thanks to what Miriam considered a minor outburst during a highly stressful situation, also got included. She wasn’t stupid; she knew it was unprofessional, anger in the moment got the better of her, but throwing the entire flight under the bus for it? That didn’t sit right with her.

The colonel went on multiple long-winded rants with random insults thrown in before eventually getting to the point. Miriam didn’t care for it, it was rather needless. Something that could be done another time in another place, but he did it at the debriefing in front of everyone. A choice that was sure to inspire confidence in everyone around them, great for unit morale.

Eventually, and thankfully, it ended. The older commander ran out of steam as he informed them that his standard was beyond low and told everyone to promptly get lost in less than pleasant words.

Miriam got up quickly, not in any desire to spend time around the man who just spent the last twenty minutes berating them all. She planned on getting some fresh air, the November cold beckoning her outside. Unfortunately, her trip outside onto the tarmac was cut short as her captain pulled her up. The north pointer exchanged words about her conduct, despite the twenty-minute barrage she had already faced inside. Miriam was at least thankful he was to the point. She wasn’t sure if she could take another lecture.

“I will try to manage myself better next time. I’ll knock you off the list of people I require getting a brow beating from today then.” Miriam sarcastically sighed back, her expression with no real malice. She understood his reasoning, but it didn’t make it any less vexing. But she couldn’t hold it against him. He had a job to do, and it was in the right place, at least. “Thanks though.” She reacted as he took off, giving her little chance to respond. Left alone, Miriam exhaled, removing her journal and pencil from her pouch on the flight suit, flicking through the pages, amending her notes and writing her general thoughts, careful not to mention anything potentially compromising.

by **Beiarusia** » Wed Jul 14, 2021 4:28 pm

Second Lieutenant Marceline “Mooncalf” Faucheux | Second Lieutenant Benjamin “Vigil” Antall
Afternoon // November 27, 2015 // Campagna Airport, Vitoze, Emmeria

Marceline was seated off to one side alongside Benjamin, her visor reflecting the crowded briefing room as the Colonel addressed the most recent sortie. It was an unusual feeling. She could count the number of formal briefings and debriefings she’d ever attended on one hand. Having thrown herself to the wilds of southern Verusea, and before that the chaotic shambles of wartorn Usea, formality had often been relegated as simply “unimportant” to the tasks that she’d been hired to oversee, but as foreign as the concept had become Marceline enjoyed the rigidity to some degree, a throwback to her time in the Junior Air Cadets during the war. As aloof as she appeared, she greatly enjoyed a structured environment when groundside.

Not that she paid much attention to the man, Jason Cain, as he noted each and every fault that had transpired over Sipli Plateau. His anger was palpable as he chewed out the gathered pilots. Marceline was not personally addressed so felt little need to interject despite understanding that some situations had been beyond their control. Quox had jumped the gun, and Alpha Sector being a diversion was intel that had not been given beforehand.

“He talks too much,” she muttered, her voice overshadowed by the ongoing beratement.

"He's just another one of those people. Forgetting they're the ones that need us," Ben muttered in reply as he relaxed into his chair. He sighed as they continued to be berated, "Emmerians." He'd argue, but it'd make the situation worse, not to mention the energy arguing with a brick would be spent on something useless, rather than actually fighting their war.

Marceline, in response, simply offered a shrug.

Soon the debriefing ended and the pilots were free to go. Marceline lingered, allowing the bulk of the others to depart before rising from her own seat. Not that she wished to remain in the soured presence of the Colonel any longer than necessary, it was just easier to allow the rush to pass beforehand. Leaving the admin building, she instinctively raised a hand to block out the sunshine as she stepped out onto the tarmac. She had no pressing matters to attend to so was likely to return to her quarters for the time being. Benjamin? No clue what he had planned.

“Are all colonels like that?” she asked absentmindedly.

“In my experience, yeah,” Ben answered.

Marceline considered if she wanted to keep up the topic but decided against it. “I might head back to my room.”

Ben shrugged. “Alright, enjoy your rest. I’ll… talk to the maintenance team I suppose. Good job today, though.” He slowed as he noticed Miriam standing not too far off from where they were passing, scribbling inside her journal. He waved and asked what she thought of the briefing.

Marceline slowed to a stop as well and added, “Thank you again for your help,” nodding, her helmet reflecting the sunshine.

by **Dayganistan** » Thu Jul 15, 2021 12:12 pm

1st Lt. Takhmina "Voron" Abduloeva
November 27th, 2015 // Campagna Airport, Vitoze, Emmeria

Colonel Cain's debriefing had gone about as well as Takhmina expected. Supposedly, Alpha was merely supposed to be a diversion and the mercenaries wiping out resistance there threw a wrench into the plan. They were poorly informed of this in the briefing and had she known, she would have committed Enforcer to assisting at Bravo. Speaking of Bravo, the acting commander of Quox had jumped the gun and pushed before air cover was ready, leading to the offensive being stopped. The Colonel's only praise came for Enforcer, although it was more of a situation that the bar had been set so low by the others that they simply screwed up the least.

Takhmina would note some incidents of note in her after action report, most specifically the decimation of an entire company of infantry by one of her flight members. While not technically wrong and strategically denies those troops from future battles, she couldn't help but find it morally wrong. They were in retreat and no longer actively engaging. At that point you may as well leave them to fight another day. Not only that, it was an excellent way to paint a target on you and your wingmen. Estovakian pilots were probably going to be gunning for Enforcer after that stunt over the coming missions. She would need something that's a better dogfighter sooner rather than later but the Emmerians just hadn't payed out quite enough yet.

She left the briefing room after the Colonel had finished, thinking of ways she could get it through to Enforcer to not bomb retreating enemies. As flight lead, she's responsible for everything that happens, right or wrong, with the pilots under her. She's responsible for keeping them alive too. She thought about writing a note and leaving it on the hanger door, but that seemed too passive aggressive. The best course of action would just be mentioning to avoid attack retreating enemies when delivering operations orders for their next mission.

She left the admin building, stepping out onto the tarmac. She noticed two of the other mercenary pilots, Mooncalf and her backseater, Vigil, from Assassin flight. She had yet to interact much with the Assassin pilots on the ground, as had much of Enforcer, but that was something that would need changing in order to build unit cohesion and build on their success working together today.

"Hey, Mooncalf, Vigil, you guys did good work on those air defences today," she called to them.

by **Hastur** » Thu Jul 15, 2021 4:02 pm

MISSION 02: OPERATION COMBINE
First Lieutenant Miriam “Rattler” Lochte
Campagna Airport, Vitoze, Emmeria // November 27, 2015

Two of her flight, Marceline and Ben halted the jotting down of her sentiments within the leather-bound journal. Her scribble quieting at the edge of a cursive sentence as her head angled up. Ben opening with friendly conversation on her conclusions about the briefing. A slight grimace immediately telegraphed her impressions on the matter. “I think Colonel Choleric needs to take his blood pressure medication.” Miriam jived back, a newer, amiable expression falling through as she held back from expressing anything worse, keeping her opinions to herself.

Marceline was up next, still wholly attired in her flight gear, the woman praising her again for their help, Miriam not being sure she wasn’t sure where it was coming from. “You’re the ones that did all the work. No need to thank me.” She cheerly rejected, gathering up tightly with her fellow flight as the cold nipped away and the enforcer flight lead, Abduloeva, drew closer.

She knew little about the 1st lieutenant, other than that she bore a Yuktobanian patch. Miriam didn’t especially like the state. The nation had directly supported the Oseans in their conflict against hers, despite having been fierce competitors with the Oseans throughout the long cold war. Their commitment being something that she always viewed as being spurred on by opportunism than anything else.

Miriam stiffened up towards the woman, a succinct flicker of scorn in her eyes as she stared on at the woman as she thanked the other two for their help with the anti air. “So, how does it feel being bestowed most valued flight from Colonel Choleric?” Miriam playfully asked as she brandished a subtle smirk, the sardonic expression disappearing as she sought to play nice. Her first time expectations already being proven wrong once already by the Osean Bones.

Ace Combat: Ashes of War (IC/Closed)

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