‘Crashing This Plane’
International Waters, 150 km west of Suwadiya
01:35 AM, 22/06/18
The 7th Patrol Fleet surged on. A Fleet was a discomfiting presence on the ocean. All sleek grey objects, with low menace and knife prows. The prows of the 7th carved channels through the Med, leaving the sea churned in their wake. Above them swivelled the barrels of naval guns and bombardment cannon. Behind that was the racks of missile launchers, and above them was the banks of radar and sensors, the faint distortions emanating from smokestacks, and the thin protrusions of radio wires.
The ships were not alike. Some were long and narrow — the
Regn Frigates. These were positioned out to the flanks, where they deployed Towed-Array Sonar (TAS) and Helicopters for ASW duties. The
Regns were an older class. There electronics were more visible, the wires on the superstructure like knotted veins. Their radars were
gauzy edifices, squat and curved. They spun constantly.
Captain Tafrik Iversen watched a
Regn in the distance. The grey sliver bobbed up and down. The ship not tall, and the waters were quite rough. The Frigate had been built to earlier design principles, ones that had shared the reduced horizons of the Valaran Empire at the time. Those principles favoured
patrol over
dominance, because that was what the Empire did at the time. It was all it could do.
Tafrik was on a very different kind of ship. In Varanski
Regn meant King, a kind of petty ruler that used to be scattered across Valaran. But the ship Tafrik was inside — this was the true monarch of the seas. It was a
Varnaus, a Greatsword, and it cleaved through the waters. Where the
Regn was low down and thin, the
Varnaus was broad and tall. Where the
Regn was exposed, the
Varnaus was sleek and slab-like in the way stealth ships are. The
Varnaus was technically a ‘Heavy Destroyer’ but really it was a Cruiser, built to the principles of a revived Empire. The 7th had two, and the one Tafrik stood on was the Air-Warfare Commander, of the formation. But it was not the flagship.
Tafrik moved away from the window. Behind him were banks of minters and their operators. The bridge was echoed with low hums and tapping at controls. Faces stared down at screens; gazes were hard and scrutinising. It was very quiet and very orderly to Tafrik, but there was an unmistakable pressure to the room.
People did not look up from the screens, to gaze at through the windows. Tafrik was unnerved by that, but perhaps it was the right impulse. The view of the sea outside was not calming.
He moved further inside, to a different room. The were more monitors and more stares. There was also a desk, over which was laid various charts, pressed to the surface by the forearms of a frowning man. Tafrik announced himself. “Admiral.”
Admiral Niels looked up. Niels had the craggy authority one would expect of a naval admiral. He was worn by the sea, and nursed her cunning. Tafrik had also found him to be unfailingly polite. “Ah, Captain.” He gestured at a seat. “Please.”
Tafrik looked up as he sat. “Did the orders come through?”
“They did. Discussions finally ended.”
“And?”
“Its still full of political wrangling. They don’t want a ground deployment. They don’t like the risk of casualties.”
Tafrik nodded. “That will piss Captain Diarmada off.”
It will piss my unit off too.“I imagine so. They also can’t spare any Carriers”. Tafrik nodded a second time. It was disappointing, but logical enough that Tafrik had expected it. The Valaran Empire had few CVNs to spare. Instead, it had long relied on surface combatants to perform all the functions of a fleet — ASUW, ASW and now AAW — around them was meant to be an all-encompassing field of death. At least they were equipped for the task. Each of the main surface combatants mounted the
SMART-L, a black slab of a radar, installed at the top of a tower. The SMART-L conducted volume searches of up to 400 km. Although it was not a targeting radar — it could not track what it saw — this allowed the Fleet near unprecedented vision of the skies around it, and gave it ample ability to respond with its targeting arrays and ranks of missiles.
Niels looked over the map again. “But you know, I am happy with it.”
Tafrik knew why. It had been too fucking long, drifting in the ocean as Khataiy burned. “We finally do it.”
The Admiral smiled. “Finally.”
“Where do they want you to deploy?” Tafrik couldn’t quite bring himself to say us. Unless his men were on the ground, there was no us.
“There was some consideration of Kurt Murzban. Between Mervay and the Turks, the situation up there is strongly adverse. The latest reports also suggest that Mervay has expanded their fleet; its not pretty similar to the 7th in size, and they have enough serious AAW ships to make it difficult. But unless we were to pre-emptively strike at that force, it would be difficult to impose our objectives, and we’d only be fighting one faction, and not even the one we’re most opposed to.”
So this was the wrangling Niels meant. Tafrik was only a VRM captain, and so had not been present for the higher level discussions. But he knew of the complex situation of Khataiy, and the background to the conundrum facing the government.The Valaran Empire had initially thought to support the Kurds. Oppressed without cause, and in this case eager and willing to fight back. The moral case was clear. Yet there had been complications. There were
always complications. The diplomats of the Foreign Ministry would list them out, their faces lined with mock-concern. Aiding the Kurds would mean harming the government Khataiy. No one much liked the government of Khataiy, but it was useful. It kept the Turks at bay. Assad too, and his Iranian backers. Every missile launched in support of the Kurds was one that supported the SAA too, and the FSA, and the NC. Did the Minister in question want this? Of course they did not. How could this be explained to the public, either on the Parliament floor, with the dagger-thrust debates, or the steel glares of the select committees, or the too-sincere questions of journalists?
The Ministers raged and fumed at these objections. Even admitting their cause had geopolitical implications felt like drenching it in mud. But they would eventually acquiesce, their empty fire giving way to cold logic. In Valaran, it paid to be a pragmatist.
So, the Empire had watched as the war had begun, as nations like Mervay and Tovakia had waded into struggle and cast about. And it had gradually dawned on the Valarans that maybe they should not have waited, that holding back had costs too, that non-intervention was its own choice, and not a good one. So the diplomats with their frowns and trim suits came back to the Ministers. They came with fresh proposals, and this time they brought the Admirals of the VIN too. The Navy would end the dawdling.
“If not Murzban, the centre then? Iskenderun?”
“Also ruled out for now. Its a similar issue except not with Mervay but some other nation… Volcanu I think.” Niels frowned. “They’ve deployed Dreadnoughts, I understand.”
Tafrik’s face broke out into a chuckle. “I’m sorry, but
Dreadnoughts? From World War Two? I, uh… wow.”
This war really did have everything.Niels didn’t laugh, but Tafrik though his eyes held mirth. “Yes. I understand they've been modernised, but quite, Captain. Volcanu appears to be on our side, as much as anyone can be, but intelligence on them has been sparse. In any case Iskenderun is not on the coast and thus difficult for us to control. Nor is it closer to the KDF, making it less useful for us.”
Niels looked down the map. He pointed south, below the bulge where Iskenderun was located. There was one city marked.
“We’ll be deploying to Suwadiya. The decision was not unanimous, but there was a clear majority in favour of resolving the situation there.” He looked up at Tafrik, and the Captain saw the concern line the Niels’ face. There was a hunger for war, yes, but the Admiral had seen too much for that to be his only emotion. “I have instructed the Fleet to increase speed to seventeen knots. That gives you eight hours to brief your men, and prepare.”