Above Atlish-New Phallian Border
“All flights, Wachter Zwee, two tangoes level at eight angels, fifty clicks out.”
“Wachter Two, Yachter Actual, they’re ours.”
Manoeuvring out of the mountainous cover, Wachter Flight equipped with a full load for an aerial battle headed straight for their enemies. Below, the four strike fighters continued on their path, flying low towards their target.
“Wachter Two, engage until objective is hit, then we’ll hightail it out of here before reinforcements come.”
“Affirmative, Wachter Actual. I see them.”
“Fire when ready and close in, Wachter Two.”
Each one took turns shouting “Fox One” as their radars locked on and two air-to-air missiles raced ahead in a puff of smoke. They were not dissimilar to the ones the Atlish carried, might have come out of the same factory. The NPAF imported weapons just as much as the next country, while producing some of its own.
Being semi-active radar homing, and guessing that the enemy was carrying the same, the missile required constant updating from the launching aircraft’s own radar before using its own guidance radar to fix a lock on the target when it came close enough. It did mean that if the host fighter’s radar lost the enemy, the missiles would lose their lock.
Wachter Actual’s thought was that by firing first, the enemy aircraft would prefer to take evasive action, which wouldn’t allow them to launch their own missiles. Or, if they did launch, their missiles would lose radar lock fast when the New Phallian ones arrived. That being said it went both ways; had the Atlish some really fast new weapons the same would go for Wachter Flight.
Not that they expected their missiles to hit, flying as low as they were and with plenty of terrain cover it wasn’t hard to evade. The New Phallian pilots just wanted to close in, and they guessed they’d have a slight advantage, if any.
Both switched to infra-red ‘fire and forget’ air-to-airs as they came in range, even readying to pull the trigger on their 23mm cannons. A gun battle here like in the old times was not out of question.
Schloß Hohenfall
Gmünd
Prince Armand stood up, pacing the room.
“The Atlish and Islish have admitted to overflying the Shentong, they have attacked our ships in our waters. The Atlish are not only supplying and funding the SLA terrorists, but as it turned out, are actively participating in what amounts to an invasion of New Phallia. Islish troops are pouring into Atla and they have carriers gathering outside the Gulf. We have battalions of Atlish tanks lining up in the valleys and passes on the border in an offensive position. Your words, Chief Advisor!”
Redan, who had sat with his eyes looking somewhere in the night sky looked up to speak, but the Crown Prince continued.
“There has been a catastrophic cyber attack on New Phallia and an assault on the 4th Mountains’ firebases. Chief Advisor, are we done playing peace and diplomacy yet when the opposite has stopped long ago?”
“We will wait for, at the very minimum, the ultimatum to expire.” Redan looked around the room, though he knew he had lost. Most importantly, Armand had spent the last day boasting about how he’d secured support from the Christoslavians no less, that slaving darkness, and had managed to persuade the King himself that there was no other option.
The rest of the cabinet remained silent, even Armand’s arch-enemy Maintefort had not said anything. Likely the mining companies he was in bed with, as was the Crown Prince and many more here. Lucrative it was. And to the greatest extent the driver of such madness.
Sevarde, deputy chief of the RSS, knew that it wasn’t that the Chief Advisor was a pacifist. No, a cold, rational realpolitiker at his best. Perhaps the only good and clean guy in this room, as far as Sevarde was aware, from the few times he’d conversed with Redan. They both knew this was a mistake. Already pushing its luck with what they were doing in the Shentong, invading Atla would do no good to New Phallia, regardless of how much treasure lay beneath their earth. New Phallia had a fragile advantageous position on the continent and Redan was unwilling to lose that. Because of a few nudes leaked, he had suspected.
Armand threw a bundle of paper towards the CA. “Authorisation by His Majesty King Hagen III of New Phallia for the Armed Forces to take whatever action necessary to secure New Phallian sovereignty. Plus all the paperwork you need, and more.”
Armed Forces Chief of Staff, the boss of the High Command General Oberhaven stood up. “Your Highness, the Armed Forces stand at ready to execute your orders on behalf of His Majesty the King at moments notice.”
“Good. Prepare to execute Case Blue, Operation Medusa and Operation Loch Nass. May the Gods Bless New Phallia.”
That was it. Armand didn’t even need to put a declaration of war through parliament, Chancellor Walwerden’s party would pass it without a fuss, and he knew it.
