Airspace over the Arzelli Bank
Off the northern coast of Arzell
While most had come to love the southern coast of the Empire, where the weather was warmer and the beaches were sandy white, there was a certain beauty to the western seaside. Oh, certainly, it was far cooler and rugged, but it was natural and untouched. The cities were small, and focused on a simpler sort of life, while those in the bigger cities always seemed to be in a hurry. The devastating fingers of war hadn’t tainted these parts in a long time, but that didn’t mean the Imperial military didn’t keep some forces around - perhaps the greatest threat to the Empire’s existence was a mere sea away.
Looking away from the passing countryside below, Flight Lieutenant Sina Macher refocused her attention on the airspace ahead of her. For the last three years, she had been assigned to an airbase on the fortress island of Zeeland; it was a strategic location halfway between Aragon and Arzell. It was a boring post, all things considered; the island lacked a civilian population aside from private contractors, and the ferries to the mainland only came so many times a month. The only upside was that she got to stay in the air while army grunts twiddled their thumbs on the ground.
“Central to Menace 1-5, do you copy, over?”
The smooth, yet firm voice of the controller back home made the airmen pause for a moment before she began to transmit. “This is Menace 1-5, I read you loud and clear.” She replied, before glancing over her shoulder to make sure that her wingman was still on her tail. In times of war, they would have operated in a finger-four formation. Patrols like this, however, were usually just the leader and their partner. There was no reason to waste unnecessary fuel.
“Be advised, we have a possible incursion into airspace north of Arzell.” Despite the gravity of the situation, the speaker was as calm as ever. “Whether it is military aircraft or civilian, we are unsure at this time. Command has been ordered to hold back additional flights until we can determine the situation. Seeing as your the closest unit, you are to proceeded to the aircrafts’ last known coordinates, over.”
As if on cue, Sina’s heads-up-display was dotted with several new grey blips to designate them as unknown contacts. Without so much as a second thought, she tugged at her stick, easing the tip of her plane onto an intercept course. “Acknowledged, Central, we’ll keep you posted. Out.” She replied, trying to not sound too curt. “Wizard, did you hear that?”
Menace 1-4, who went went by said callsign, gave his Bartgeier a little extra boost to bring his jet right up alongside her own. “Yes’m,” he replied, voice thick with the accent of a bison herder from the south. “Should I unlock my weapons?”
Sina thought about it for a moment before shaking her head. “Negative. Let’s just rustle ‘em off and be on our way. Last thing I want is an international incident because your trigger finger got itchy,” she said with as much teasing as their code of conduct would allow.
Easing the throttle forward, they began to head towards the last known position of the unknown aircraft.
-----
Captain Dallán Bagnell looked down at the various fishing boats working the Bank, their wakes clearly notable from his altitude. His element had just arrived at its station north of Arzell, and it looked like it was to be another long, boring patrol.
Of course, a boring patrol is far preferable to the alternative, he thought grimly. We’ve not fought the Shalumites for decades, but our history is not overly given to optimism on that point.
For over a thousand years, the Ossorians have fought the Shalumites, often over the very islands over which Captain Bagnell flew. In point of fact, the last war between the two had been over Arzell itself, and had been the third one in less than a decade. Despite having fought on the same side in the Great War and having managed to not fight each other since, both sides still maintained a significant military presence on the island, and the border was still heavily fortified.
Well, the Captain thought sarcastically, nothing to do for it but count fishing boats, I guess. Not like anything else ever happens around here.
-----
Compared to the light fighter that Sina had trained in, the Bartgeier was one hell of a machine. Growing up, she had always been something of a gearhead, but the Commoners had taken their newest bird to the next level in terms of design; the feeling as she punched the throttle practically made her toes curl, and it was like coming down from a high every time she eased it back to something more manageable. All in all, the multi-role was quick and responsive, not to mention the fact that she felt solid in a way that her old Gripen simply didn’t.
“Central, be advised, we’re coming up on the contacts now - over.” She reported as her fighter slowed to just under two-hundred-and-fifty kilometers an hour; it was a comfortable cruising speed. “I’ve got eyes on. Standby.”
In the vastness of the air, picking out another aircraft would have been damn hard, unless they were something like a cargo plane or jumbo jet. With the new technology integrated into her helmet, however, their signatures were plain as day. Studying them for a moment, her breath caught. Sina had seen these planes before, though only in her training courses. “Central, be advised...it looks like we may have Ravens up here with us.”
There was a long pause. “This is Central, we read you. Please confirm that you have eyes on F-39 Ravens, over.”
Sina pursed her lips. “They look like ‘em to me, Central, but we’re still a bit out.”
The controller sighed. “Menace 1-5, you are to approach and make contact with these aircraft, regardless of their make. Inform them that they are infringing on Shalumite airspace and are to pull back,”[i] there was a pregnant pause, [i]“or face prosecution to the fullest extent necessary. Over.”
The young woman swallowed thickly, and took a few deep breaths. The air filtered into her helmet was cool and pure, but she still felt as if she was sweltering. “Acknowledged, Central. I will proceed as instructed. Over.” She replied tersely. “Come on, Wizard, let’s get this done.” Sina added, knowing that her co-pilot and wingman were both listening in.
It took another minute or so for them to get close enough for her liking. Up close, her suspicions were only confirmed, making her expression one of grimness as she keyed up the radio. “Unknown aircraft, this is Flight Lieutenant Macher of the Imperial Shalumite Airforce. Be advised, you are infringing on Imperial airspace, over.” She took a breath. “At this time, we are requesting that you turn back and return to international or Ossorian airspace.”
-----
“Mage 5, Command,” the mission controller said over the radio, breaking into Captain Bagnell’s thoughts. “We have leakers, aircraft type unknown, crossing the border in your patrol sector, bearing 097. You are directed to intercept and determine their identity and intentions.”
So much for a quiet patrol, he thought as he keyed his own radio. “Copy that, Command. Moving to intercept. Mage 6, on me; let’s see what these folks want.”
They had just begun to turn towards the intruders when a new voice crackled over the radio. “Unknown aircraft, this is Flight Lieutenant Macher of the Imperial Shalumite Airforce. Be advised, you are infringing on Imperial airspace, over. At this time, we are requesting that you turn back and return to international or Ossorian airspace.”
“Command, be advised, leakers claim to be Shalumite,” Captain Bagnell reported before switching to the open frequency to respond to the intruder. “Shalumite aircraft, this is Captain Bagnell of the Royal Ossorian Air Force. Be advised that it is you who are infringing on Ossorian airspace and we request that you return to Imperial airspace, over.”
-----
Behind the durable canopy of her fighter, Sina couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow. She was careful to hold the Bartgeier steady, lest she inadvertently provoke these Ossrai flyboys into doing something ill-advised. Still, she couldn’t help but let her thumb ghost across the trigger of the stick; her weapons were disarmed, but she was loaded to bear with a full complement of air-to-air weapons. “Negative, Captain Bagnell, I can’t do that. Onboard systems have you marked as being in our territory.” She replied, trying to sound as firm, yet non-confrontational as she could be.
The young woman was vaguely away as her wingman pulled on his stick, crossing over her back to fly alongside her to the right rather than the left. Wizard hung back a ways as well, leaving her own bird between him and the trespassing aircraft; if anyone was locked onto first, it would probably be her, but it would give her backup time to get a few shots of their own in. That was probably the theory, anyways, now wasn’t the time to ask.
Looking back to her GPS, the lieutenant's lips pursed as she studied the markers critically. Truth be told, the Ossorians weren’t far over their side of the tightly policed line - it was easy enough to see why they were having issues. Still, though, she wasn’t about to back down; showing tail to the islanders was the sort of thing her family would consider to be ‘dishonorable.’ One could only guess how many of her lineage had fallen to Ossorian blades, or worse…
Taking a breath, she continued the broadcast. “I’m not trying to cause trouble here, sir, but I’m looking at my maps - it’s clear as day, you’re over the line. My superior officers have ordered me to send you back by whatever means necessary. If you would please just adjust your bearings by several degrees, that would make us all real happy, over.” It was the nice way of asking them to turn around before she, with no small amount of reluctance, had to do something she really didn’t want to.
-----
Dallán scowled at the response. They were clearly infringing on Ossorian airspace and they should damned well know they were...which implied the kinds of things which sent an icicle down his spine.
“Command, they’re refusing to turn back.”
“Copy that, Mage 5,” was the response from the ground. “You are ordered to direct them to withdraw and are authorized to take whatever measures you deem fit to convince them to return to their airspace, but do not fire unless fired upon. A flight from the Jesters will be airborne shortly to back you up if these people still don’t get the hint.”
“Mage 5 copies all.”
Now to try and do this without getting anyone killed… he thought. How the hells don’t they see that they’re in the wrong gods-damned place?!?
“Shalumite aircraft, I will say this one more time: you are in clear violation of Ossorian territory and I am now ordering you to withdraw from Ossorian airspace. You may not wish to cause trouble, but it is plain to us and our maps that you are the ones in flagrant violation of our sovereign territory. As you are not here with our permission and have no obviously valid reason to be here, we can only conclude that you have some kind of...ulterior motive.”
A quick glance to his right showed his wingman closing in slightly, obviously responding to his tone on the radio. Then he activated his tracking radar, letting it sweep over the intruding aircraft without locking on for weapons guidance. The implication was clear: Get the hell out of here before I lose my patience.
Half a moment later, he concluded with a terse transmission, “Withdraw. Immediately.”
-----
Behind the fishbowl like flight helmet, Sina licked her lips. Today isn’t the day I’m going to die, she tried to reassure herself. If we pull back, though, the commissars will make sure it will be. There were many certainties in life, and one of them was that the political officers of the military never failed to carry out their duties. No one had been shot for desertion, or showing cowardice in the face of the enemy, but it was never too late to start. Her overseer back on the base was a nice man, but she had the feeling he wouldn’t think twice about putting a slug in her forehead. My son is going to have a mother, dammit…
“Sven, unlock the weapons.”
Her co-pilot grunted in acknowledgement, apparently expecting this. Flickering several switches, her weapon readouts went from gray to green; her missiles were armed, and she had the ability to lock onto targets now. On every other patrol she’d been on in her career, that had never been necessary. Glancing over at the nearby Ossorian fighters, she let the system sort out the distance; a short range IRIS-T was automatically selected.
“Weapons unlocked, Lieutenant.”
“This is Wizard, be advised, weapons are unlocked over here too.”
“Menace 1-5, radio Central and let ‘em know what’s going on.”
“Already did, boss-lady. They’re putting more jets in the air as we speak, but they’re still a ways out.”
“Acknowledged,” she replied tersely, “be ready for a fight.” Switching back over to the open line, she cleared her thought and stared the other fighter group down. “Captain Bagnell, be advised, we are not acting with any ill intent or ulterior motive. However, it is my duty to protect the sovereign airspace of my homeland…” The fact that Arzell was truly Shalumite didn’t seem to matter to these people, it seemed. “And I have my orders. I am asking that you pull back immediately, or else I will be forced to take action.” As Sina said this, her reticle came to rest on the sleek hull of his bird.
-----
The warning tone in his helmet chopped off Dallán’s thoughts like an executioner’s axe and froze his blood.
“Command, I’ve just been spiked,” he radioed. “Say again, targets have weapons lock!”
“Command copies all: weapons free, I say again, weapons free.”
“Mage 5 copies.” Dallán immediately switched his radar to target acquisition, the radar gave him a solid lock scant heartbeats later, already knowing exactly where to find its prey.
“Iceman, fox-two, fox-two!”
“Torch, fox-two!”
As soon as the missile separated, Dallán kicked in his afterburner and rammed the stick over, poised to release countermeasures if the target, now enemy, managed to get a shot of their own off. A quick glance told him that his wingman was following right behind him, anticipating his maneuver from their countless hours of training together.
“Mage 5, be advised, your support is airborne and headed your way at best speed. ETA five minutes.”
“Mage 5 copies,” he said, his attention focused on his threat receiver. Might as well be on the far side of the Moon for all the good it does me right this moment, he thought acidly.
-----
“Incoming!” Sina snarled as she jerked on the stick without a second thought. The Bartgeier, though not designed for purely air dominance operations, was as responsive as advertised. She broke away hard as she fired off a single short-range missed from one of her wing-mounted pylons. It was doomed, and quickly detonated near an enemy flare, but she couldn’t care less. “Deploying countermeasures!”
“Menace 1-5, do you read, over?” The voice of their ground control operator asked, his voice something less than even for the first time all day, as she pulled off every maneuver that she could think off. Sina’s helmet blared warnings, but she didn’t have time to really think over a response.
“Central, this is her co-pilot, over.” Sven replied for her as the plane shuddered in effort. There was a declaration upfront as she got the enemy zeroed in again, firing off a missile a moment later. “The Ossorian aircraft have engaged us! I say again, we’re under attack!”
“Be advised, we are aware of this development.” Sven wanted to snort, but he was caught off guard as a missile exploded far too close for comfort. “Friendly air units are being scrambled and re-routed now. Help is on the way. You’ve just got to hold out for a few more minutes.”
Sven held his breath as he watched their wingman climb quickly, trading speed for altitude, as he deployed countermeasures all along the way. The explosion followed after them a second later, but they thankfully seemed alright. Levelling out for a brief moment, they returned fire with two more missiles of their own. “Tell ‘em to hurry up, Central, otherwise we may not have that long!” Sven snarled before focusing on his staton.
-----
“Captain, that last missile punched a hole in my wing!”
Dallán swore at his wingman’s report, but another transmission cut him off before he could respond.
“Mage 5, we copied Mage 6’s status. Withdraw and escort him from the airspace. Jester 9 and her flight are on-station and ready to engage the enemy.” The handler paused a moment before continuing, “We don’t know where this is leading, but we need all our pilots back; we can replace the birds, but you’re a bit harder. Withdraw and leave it the enemy to the Jesters. That’s an order.”[i]
Dallán breathed a sigh of relief at hearing that. “Mage 5 copies, Command. RTB.”
High above, the four F-34C Shrikes that made up the third flight of the 15th Air Dominance Squadron, nicknamed the “Death Jesters”, screamed into the combat area. Captain Fíona O'Loughlin squirmed with anticipation as her radar sought out the aircraft without friendly transponders. This was the kind of thing she had trained for for years, and it was oh-so like those damned Shallies to try this kind of dirty trick.
[i]“Jester 9, Command,” the handler said over the radio. “Mage 5 and 6 are withdrawing from the combat zone with damages. You are free to engage any aircraft not positively ID’d as friendly or civilian.”
“Jester 9 copies,” she replied just as her radar locked onto the Shalumite aircraft. “Alright laddies, it’s time we taught these Imperial bastards what happens when they fuck with us! After launch, split into elements and run them down. I want these kills before the rest of the squadron can get here!”
A chorus of affirmations came back to her over the radio. She waited a few heartbeats, then called over the radio.
“Dagger, fox-three!”
Three more radar-guided missiles lanced towards the Shalumites alongside hers, their fighters roaring down their wakes.
-----
“Uh, ell-tee, Wizard is lagging.”
“What?” Sina asked, sucking in a sharp breath as she watched the enemy craft disengage, pulling back further towards the Ossorian side of Arzell. It was a brief reprieve, but not the kind that she welcomed; the Lieutenant wasn’t blind to the new contacts that dotted her radar. “Wizard, you alright?”
“Negative, ma’am. I’m leaking fuel and oil pressure is dropping.” There was a pause as his engine coughed. “That last missile wreaked all sorts of hell on my engine. I need to return to base.”
“Shit, we’re outnumbered here. We need to pull back.” Wizard’s co-pilot added tersely.
“Negative. Command hasn’t approved - watch out!” The new contacts fired, and Sina could only react as they came. She put out more countermeasures and fired back, more to keep them off her backs rather than try and kill. Aside from her main cannon, she was running low on munitions. “Wizard-”
“He’s gone, ell-tee!”
Sina glanced over her shoulder, eyes wide in horror. The bloom of the explosion still hung in the air, even as pieces of his aircraft fell to the sea below. It was all twisted metal and fiery bits. The one thing that was missing was what mattered most - a pair of chutes. “No one would have survived that…” Her co-pilot muttered gravely as his thumb hovered over the countermeasure ejector.
“Fuck, we need to get out of here!” The flight lieutenant grunted as she pulled back on her stick, pointing them towards their base of operations.
“Reinforcements are still a ways out.” Sven pointed out as the Bartgeier shuddered, it’s engine flaring.
“Then we’ll lead the Ossies right to ‘em.” Sina said with a humorless sort of smile from behind her visor.
-----
“Splash one!” Fiona called out over the radio, despite not knowing who actually scored the kill. “Last one’s buggin’ out. Only means she’ll die tired. Eleven, stay high and keep an eye out for anyone else headed our way. I’ll take this one.”
“Jester 11 copies.”
“Jester flight, Command,” the handler broke in. “Be advised, the next group of the squadron is six minutes out. Long-range radar shows additional aircraft headed your way from the Shalumite side of the border. Protect our territory.”
“Jester 9 copies,” she replied, knowing that her element lead and wingman would keep an eye out for the newcomers while she brought down the runner. Her radar soon locked back onto the fleeing fighter. “Dagger, fox-three!”
-----
Sina’s vision blurred, and the fighter rocked as a missile struck the back end. The sounds of warning alarms blared, and she struggled to open her eyes, pulling the stick towards her stomach as much as it would go. “We need to bail out, Sven!”
“No shit!” He replied as he fumbled for his ejector. “On three?”
“On three!” She affirmed as she released the stick. Sucking in a deep breath, she glanced over her shoulder. The enemy was closing fast, and if they didn’t go now, they may not make it at all. “One, two...three!”
The next thing Sina knew, the canopy had been blow away, allowing icy wind to whip around her as she quickly was separated from the doomed jet. After what felt like an eternity, she felt the chute release, allowing her descent to slow.
High above, Captain Benjamin Weiss frowned slightly as another friendly contact disappeared altogether. He was still minutes out from their last known position, and his anger was growing with every minute; ground control had made them wait until the rest of their squadron (sixteen Bartgeiers total) were in the air.
“Alright, Menace squadron.” He broadcasted over the comms as his grip tightened on the stick. “We’ve lost contact with Sina and her people. We’ve got enemy aircraft swarming the border, and we’ve probably just lost four damn good pilots. Who’s ready to make ‘em pay?”
As a round of choruses rose up over the coms, the pilot couldn’t help but grin. The Ossorians may have won the initial engagement, but his people would win the battle. Even if they didn’t, God forbid, the air defenses that encircled Arzell would keep them at bay. With every moment that passed, they bought more time for the grounder-pounders to dig in and prepare for the enemy invasion that would likely follow. They had been training for a scenario like this for years, but never did he think it would have ever happened.
-----
The air battle ultimately lasted twenty minutes before the Shalumite fighters retreated, resulting in 13 total kills: 8 Shalumites against 5 Ossorians. Under the cover of their surviving fighters, the Ossorians fished the survivors out of the water, including Lieutenant Macher and her co-pilot.
On the ground, things went better for the Shalumites. When no Ossorian attack came, the Imperial Army crossed the border and probed the Ossorian defenses, prompting a series of skirmishes all along the line. Despite being on alert because of the action in the air, the Ossorian border patrols were forced to retreat to their fortified positions, ceding control of most of the border itself to the Empire.
Now convinced that an Imperial offensive was looming, the Ossorian commander declares a “Case Uatha”, code for “invasion imminent”, prompting all Ossorian military forces to go on a full war footing. In Kenlis and Aragon emergency meetings are held, plans are laid, and formal complaints issued to their opposites while flatly denying any wrongdoing on their part.
Thus military forces on both sides of the border begin taking up positions, and an unlooked-for war increasingly seems inevitable.
