Shunya Takenaka
23 February 2013 | Himeji Island | 0656 Hours (Local Time)
"The Emperor be with us!" interjected Trooper Takenaka as he was taken aback by everything coming into his view all at once. For all of his rudimentary knowledge on his enemy, he had not foreseen the great multitude of them coming from the sky to rain eerie death and destrution upon them. 30 minutes ago, he had been hearing constant reports on the comm of about only two enemy aircraft, to which he saw one of them - sleek and geometrical in shape - whiz by over his head with a deafening engine roar. Now, there were literally hundreds them swarming the the damned place, all of them bearing the dreaded red octagrams with the letter 'A' on their wings. Everywhere they soared over, their bullets, munitions, and rockets wrecked a havoc which Shunya and his comrades had never witnessed before in their short, green careers.
Following Haruto's example on the the camouflaged overwatch perch, he took a new Stinger launcher from a case and found a new target. It was a bulky yet expedient KH-A35 'Beaconsfield' attacker jet of the Aleckandorean war machine. Despite its subsonic speed and crazy skyborne waltzes and cuts all across, Shunya managed to get the craft within the launcher's frontal pipper and clicked off the safety. An electronic lock tone was invokved with a series of rapid, computerized beeps to signify the successful spike and tracking; this led to the swift motion in which the Designated Marksman pushed the launch trigger and a streak of red flame propelling a missile popped out in a split-second.
"Oh!" Shunya yelled to himself he caught a lot of the smoke in his lungs by accident, then wafted it away from his face to see the Beaconsfield try to jink hard left. But alas, the enemy plane was struck upon its engines, causing it to trail thick black smoke as it plummeted straight into the inland valley. He didn't see if the pilot ejected or not, but regardless, this was one less assailant to the Nipponese military precinct at Himeji Island. He felt strange, knowing that he may have killed his first person or not, and even stranger by the fact that he himself did not fully confirm it, but a duty was a duty. If this was going to be last place he would ever see, he would make sure that his name would be synonymous to thousands of dead greyskins. For fear of being strafed by any of the other planes that might see their position from the Stinger fire, he and Haruto hunkered down back on the overwatch perch, knowing full well that although the aircraft were doing damage to the base's combat and logistics infrastructure, they and there many compatriots-in-arms were taking to the tunnels.
"Thanks, Abakura." he muttered as he stared from the scope into the bunker slit, where Ryuu was slapped back to his senses. "At least we didn't have to find ourselves putting bullets into our own men." Unable to do a thing without compromising their position to the hostile jets, the Overwatch Team lay there in their brownish olive drab ghillie suits, helpless to combat the Aleckandoreans which were brutally bombing and shooting up their Navy and Air Force counterparts. I hate how we gotta leave it to the Basic Infantry, thought Shunya, as himself wondered what his Barracks looked like by now back at the island's central sections. It was probably sitting atop a pile of infernal rubble and a ton of rotting, dismembered human flesh.
The Aleckandorean Confederacy
23 February 2013 | Himeji Island | 0701 Hours (Local Time)
"DCT: 'Amblin', this is AICH Valdez. Do you copy, over?" began one of th four friendly neighborhood AEWS planes operating above the carrier strike wings that were savagely raping Himeji Island. It was directed to the comms of a UCAV operations squad, aboard the distant Nimitz-Class carrier back at the 1st PBF's closing location, the AGNV Anaspida. When there was no response within the next four seconds, it was repronounced; "Repeat, Team Amblin, come in. This is AICH Valdez attached to the Anaspida. Are you over the target area? Over." The response came immediately afterwards.
"Hehe, sorry about that Valdez," apologized the head supervisor back on the carrier's makeshift central command, as they returned to their post, "And yes, Amblin Head confirms that we are approaching the target, ETA 45 seconds. Standing by for orders."
"Affirmative, Amblin Head. You are go for Objective Lot; smoke the bastards out and continue to your Secondary Point. Over and out." AICH Valdez then permitted with profuse enthusiasm.
"Roger, we are commencing run. Amblin, out." the supervisor of the Drone Control Team said back on the Anaspida, as the battlegroup continued their approach on the island unhindered. "It's ironic." then said the supervisor to himself as he watched his pilots go to work at their screens and nodes, "We're taking out a unmanned combat vehicle command center - our very kind. Well, it's the enemy's own after all, so let's haul ass." Half a minute transpired, until the underside camera mounts of Amblin's three MiG Skat unmanned stealth strike craft panned down to acquire a satellite designated target in the form of a tiny, green computerized box on the ground below the clouds.
"FAEs are locked and ready to rock, sir!" called out the lead pilot at his station, awaiting tactical action confirmation from his handler to come down.
"Drop 'em." casually ordered the supervisor, as he took a sip of the coffee out of his black mug while intently staring at the targeting monitors.
"Roger, BLU-118s releasing." the lead pilot denoted as he and the two others waited as the box contacted with their pippers, then each pushed the key that dropped their Skats' payload: one 2000-pound fuel air explosive bomb for each of the three planes. "Bombs successfully dropped. Tracking to observe." the second wingman then spoke, as he flipped two switches above him that compelled the monitor to attach a telemetry and trajectory data collection icon to all three rapidly descending munition packages. "T-minus 15 seconds to surface impact. Lethal zone: 1-2 kilometers." The supervisor behind the men in their seats began to crack a smirk, watching them disappear past the clouds below. Here comes a quick a shitstorm, he cogitated, the sprightly taste of the coffeee turning bitter in his mouth after lingering a little too long.
"Five, four, three, two, one, target destroyed!" the lead pilot exclaimed and checked as the blip disappeared from the screen and the targeting cameras of all three bombs was replaced by the universal television static. They had all smashed right into Sacred Nippon's geometrical Drone Command structure, disperesed into a thick cloud of rapidly expanding chemical gases, then ignited into a vacuum of furious flame and destructive kinetic force; the large building - possibly holding 200 or more personnel at once - simply was disintegrated into a violently ruptured pile of metallic oblivion, imbued with the lacerated and dismembered parts of charred human flesh.
"They're done." casually commented the supervisor as the fires rose from what remained of the Drone Command headquarters compound. "Move on to the next area. Get it on a hump, Team Amblin."
"Aye, sir!" all three of the Skat UCAV controllers acknowledged, then plotted a new automated course for their triology to zoom on over to the enemy Fuel Storage Dump. All around Himeji, Aleckandorean aircraft have suppressed almost all hostile anti-air resistance (with the exception of some pesky infantrymen armed with MANPADS), and as a result, nothing was stopping them from turning the already denatured joint into a smoldering ground zero of sulphuric craters that stunk of many thousands of corpses and burning oil. The ground assault would begin within the hour, once the 1st PBF cleared the optimal deployment line.
