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Operation Blue Sabre [private]

PostPosted: Tue Jan 28, 2020 12:48 am
by Lauzanne
Igrane Airbase, Oisijek Province, Lauzanne.
3km from the town of Igrane.
0912 Hours


Flight Lieutenant Clara “Remi” Dupont gazed out at the small menagerie of aircraft in their hangars. The MiG-23’s that formed the base’s main squadron sat prepped and ready to go for the second round of exercises. Her eyes drifted past the LDF technicians checking those aircraft and instead settled on the Froxian contingent. She was confident she’d not seen a single man among them, and was still bewildered whenever she saw the odd non-human ears or tails. They tirelessly worked on prepping their own F-15’s. Remi was quite taken aback by the size of them, but even they were dwarfed by the Su-27’s she’d seen at another LAF base on exercise. Next up was the JL-9 Trainers with the Hurti Air Force, their sleek look reminiscent of F-20’s to the pilot’s trained eyes. Lastly, her gaze settled on her and her wingman’s craft, the newly-made MRF-1 “Groza”. The culmination of Lauzanne’s efforts to upgrade it’s military, beginning with a small multirole fighter. The pilot knew today should be straightforward, just joint flying for the next week. It should be, but a gut feeling was telling her today was going to turn out interestingly.

Blue Sabre was the name given to a string of co-operative training exercises of various branches co-operating with other nations, an attempt to bolster the nation’s defence and give them new tactics to fight the Red Star Movement, a local communistic insurgency. The LDF has been fighting against this force for quite some time, mainly concentrated to the northern provinces of Novo, Oisijek, and Kieno. As of late they’ve been quiet. Perhaps too quiet.

Blue Sabre was being conducted in other parts of the country, as well. The neighbouring Kieno Province was host to various countries’ SOF on training, however Remi knew that there was more to such an exercise as she was told. But that didn’t matter to her, right now. What mattered was the blue sky above her, clouds only on the horizon. Remi looked up, and through the uneasiness eating at her, she smiled.

PostPosted: Tue Jan 28, 2020 8:00 pm
by Hurtful Thoughts
Lt Major Grable was present more for administrative purposes, officially. Realisticly, he was an old war-pug that had seen hard fighting, and the leadership trusted his opinion on his matters of observation. The actual flying was being entrusted to some younger lads from the 508th Army Tactical Figher wing with tarmac-detail falling to some 90th Zeta militiamen that he'd caught loafing around a prison-camp in Chitzeland.

Elsewhere, Lt Marinez was inspecting his JL-9s, they were indeed manuverable, although the non-adjustable intakes meant the grunting big turbojet had problems going above transonic... ever... Chinese backwards-engineering at least made them theoretically supersonic... so there was that. Still, he missed the F-5M mk IIs his unit had to trade in after a... 'barracks incident' and was forced out from the 106th Chemical Warfare Division. He was briefed that Froxians would be present, and had been informed that certain exceptions were to be made to accomodate their privacy for his own safety. Plus the more capable planes could not be spared for a milex, so he just had to make do... He noticed his wingman Lt Kobe Jordans was eyeing the MiG-23s with an envious gaze. Kobe wasn't wrong to want one, the clean lines and powerful engine on even a MiG-27k allowed such planes to pull away and make a hasty escape from otherwise 'superior' aircraft with such frustrating ease that it had become commonplace to teach Hurti bomber pilots to abuse such 'tactics'. These fighter-pilots, however, would need to outmanuver their Froxian and Lauzannian comrades.

Further back was the familiar sight of Specialists Schwartz and Foyt arguing over a deck of cards by their assigned hangar, a beat-up old Mi-17 sporting Hurti insignia in the background. Where those two went, the rest of Alfa-team was seldom far away.

PostPosted: Wed Jan 29, 2020 4:35 am
by Monfrox
Of all the places, and all the people, sometimes you found yourself in the most interesting of predicaments. That was the main attitude Lieutenant Colonel Scarlett "Maverick" Wiske had while walking out onto the tarmac with her wingman, Major Anna "Sidewinder" Fokker. The 13th Night Fighter Wing had been given the illustrious task of providing neighboring countries with skilled pilots for dogfighting lessons among other aspects of flight operations. The idea was to not only build up regional allies and relationships, but also bring their pilots up to a higher standard. It was for this reason that the 147th Tactical Fighter Squadron had been sent in place of a usual aggressor squadron. Monfrox was the top dog in military power by sheer numbers and arguably in quality of soldiers depending on who you asked on what day at what time and in which nation. Despite being rather xenophobic and isolationist, they heavily monitored the regional borders with early warning radars and other such defenses. In that sense, Monfrox was very much the big sister who didn't pay attention to you on the daily, but would happily beat the shit out of anyone who tried to bully you.

To this end, the 13th Fighter Wing had been sent with some auxiliary units to help secure their equipment and assets. For a week-long stint, the 147th "Voskhod" Squadron was complimented by the 30th Operations Squadron, the 655th Air Refueling Squadron, a contingent from the 99th Combat Military Police Group, and even a detachment of operators from the 1st Angel Company for the possibility of special operations training. The existence of Hurties on the base had put the MPs on the edge and the lookout for anyone trying to make funny business. Strict policy of no co-ed barracks was being enforce, by gunpoint when necessary. For now though, it was time for Scarlett to get her shit together for the flight mission for today. She and Anna stopped outside their hangar, watching the airmen in munitions load the training ammo into the 25mm gatling. Unlike the previous Eagles, the F-15AIM "Aurora" fighters had large front canards for added agility, but this also mean the gun could shred the right canard if fired during a turn. Rather than trying to hinder the dogfighting capability of the aircraft by disengaging the arming of the gun when the canard was over the gun port, the gun was simply taken our and mounted under the fuselage. The trade-off between losing pilots and losing the gun on an emergency landing was a no-brainer.

"Alright, let's pull the chocks and get these bad boys in the air." Scarlett said with a gleam in her eye.

PostPosted: Thu Jan 30, 2020 12:22 am
by Lauzanne
Remi remembered the gist of the briefing well, seeing as most of it was just scenario talk, ground crew co-ordination and the SOP's she'd heard a million times. But she found it interesting that the two other participating nations, the Hurtis and the Froxians, would be squaring off before the Lauzanneans simulated their duel with the Hurti's JL-9's, and finally the Lauzannean's mixed squadron of Grozas and MiG-23's against the formidable Auroras. the 23's themselves were old 23MLD's that had been upgraded to fire more modern missiles, as well as improved helmet sights, among other changes and modernisations to give the ageing planes a fighting chance in the modern skies. However, Remi knew now wasn't the time to idly think. She saw a pair of Froxian pilots stood near their planes. Remi was intrigued by the pair, opting to stroll towards them, her traditionally-playful look on her face

Remi made her final approach, coming within sight of the pair. She stuck her hand out to the two, looking welcoming to the pair of foreigners.

"I'm looking forward to seeing how you folks perform in combat. Name's Remi."

PostPosted: Sat Feb 01, 2020 11:29 am
by Hurtful Thoughts
Specialist Schwartz looked up from his adult-themed cards long enough to see one of the host-pilots wandering dangously close to the Froxian 'camp', and swiftly jumped up and moved to intercept. He was too late to stop them from getting close, but he finally managed to place his body between her and the other two Froxians.

"Woah there! Those are Froxians. Best not get too close to their things. They have this habit of leaving bite-marks. Not that you cann--"
With his back to the Froxians, and still hiding his cards from Foyt, his winning hand of cards were in plain view of Sidewinder... it was a stacked Froxian deck.

Foyt meanwhile just shook his head, and began inspecting his light machine-gun just to subtly discourage any excess amounts of stupidity rolling back his way.

Marcus and Kobe were busy pre-flighting their planes, a Mokan trainee they picked up with the 90th boys in Chitzeland simply named "Tsu" was hovering and lingering with them. Aparently he was some sort of accomplished pilot of some sort from wherever he was before all this, asking to at least be a backseater to a JL-9... Marcus relented on this issue, but instead opted to have him in the front of his plane so he could see how he'd do, and at least still had instructor-override should he be lying about his qualifications.

PostPosted: Tue Feb 04, 2020 4:11 am
by Monfrox
The Lieutenant Colonel heard footsteps and, after a brief glance, she was glad to see it wasn't one of the Hurties coming over. In fact, it was one of their grateful host nation's pilots who came to introduce herself. It wasn't long before the seemingly normal exchange was interrupted by one of the Hurties, who very rudely referred to the Froxians as if they weren't here.

"Oi!" Scarlett elbowed the man out of the way and stepped around. "You wanna go run laps around the flightline for me until I get tired, grunt? Don't you run up on me unless you got a salute and the greeting of the day for me, first. Now beat it!"

In a bit of a rare face, Scarlett threw the book at the Specialist. Really, she was just using it as an excuse to dissuade him from such rapid approaches in the future. Anna had a rather blank stare on her face, like she was expecting something.

PostPosted: Thu Feb 06, 2020 7:03 am
by Lauzanne
Remi watched the Hurti Specialist and the Froxian Lieutenant Colonel seemingly argue with a smirk. She'd heard rumours, but it was amusing to her to see them play out right in front of her. She laughed ever so quietly, evoking the 'hon-hon-hon' that would be expected of one with her accent.

"Leaving bite marks? What a terrible thing to have happen to little me." Remi said in an innocent tone that belied her apparent intentions, but Remi's thoughtful look turned into a shrug.
"Oh well, perhaps I can talk to you two ladies tonight. Slivovitz or vodka?" Her expression turned from one of innocent and naivete to a more businesslike one, finally smiling.
"Both. I'll bring both. See you two in the skies. And I'll see you-" She points at Schwarz "-around, you apparent Hero, saviour of innocent girls from teethy Froxians." Remi smirked at the Specialist, before turning around and idly striding towards her Groza.

"Took you long enough. Mingling with the locals?" Ivan "Vlad" Dumitru quipped, holding out a large, HUD equipped helmet for Remi to take.
"It's not like we're in a hurry, Vlad. Still waiting on the 23's to be ready." Remi replied, gently taking the helmet and nestling it in the crook of her arm.
"Right, did you tell them you're Remi or did you use your real name for once? Pays to be upfront with them." Ivan replied, letting a small smirk appear on his face.
"Did you tell them you were the top pilot in the country, or the second best? It pays to be upfront~" Remi shot back, causing Ivan to shake his head.
"I'm the better pilot and you know it."
"Funny, I remember being the first pilot they contacted. Oh well. 2, are you ready to show them what we can do?" Remi asked, Ivan rolling his eyes and copying her smirk.
"Yeah, let's rock and roll."
The pair bumped fists, before heading off to their respective aircraft, the other LAF pilots were similarly ready, only awaiting the Hurti and Froxians to be ready to takeoff.

PostPosted: Sat Feb 08, 2020 10:17 am
by Hurtful Thoughts
Schwartz looked past Scarlet and at the jet-black F-15s behind her, the nose and tail-art being vagueley familiar...

"You know, we have a lot in common, colonel. Your squadron was in support of Operation Blind Knife a few months back, correct? I suggest you read Ristovski's detailed report when you get the chance... of course even that'll omit how one of our specialists bagged a red haired colonel the night before... one of your flight mechanics..." He flipped out a playing card, sporting a photo-realisticly hand-drawn scantily-clad red-haired buff-Froxian-vixen sporting a distinctive-eyepatch over her left-eye, "I believe you'd recognize her. She'd be quite hard to miss."

He then returned the card back to his hand, gave a quick yet professionally brisk salute, and returned to his game. Manipulating Froxian paranoia into curiosity was an art best practiced slowly under a low flame, preferably via candle-light and with plenty of alcohol... Hurti/Froxian drinking-contests were often quite legendary whenever they did actually occur.

Meanwhile, a pair of JL-9s were already kitted-out,their pilots prepped. Marcu would be taking a backseat to Tsu to see if he had any talent, while Kobe would be their baseline-figure for this skirmish. Their loadout was mostly simulated in favor of carrying three full drop-tanks to stay in the air. Kobe's backseat compartment was crammed with an ECM/recon-pod for data-gathering purposes. The JL-9Gs featuring wingtip-pylons for housing a pair of live Python 3s plus a few banks of 20-cell 80mm (B-8V20), and 5-cell 130mm (B13L) rocket-pods for air-to-ground gunnery-practice.

PostPosted: Sun Feb 09, 2020 2:00 am
by Monfrox
Scarlett simply stared at the Specialist as he walked away, not bothering to return the salute. She spat onto the tarmac and turned around with Anna following suit.

"Was he trying to insinuate that-"

"I don't give a goddamn what he was trying to say. I didn't hear the words Blind Knife and I didn't hear a greeting of the day. Next time he runs up to me like that, I'm socking him in the gut."

"Colonel, you're getting hotheaded again."

"Yeah, I know. Let's hurry up and get into the air already. I wanna personally show these guys who they're dealing with."

By now the planes had been towed out onto the ramp and the crew chiefs were waiting. Scarlett and Anna did a forearm check to each other before heading off to their respective planes and donning their flight helmets and G-suits. With their enhanced eyes they could see very well in the dark without night vision devices, which was why every pilot in the 13th Wing was like them. Only a few could be aces though, and even still these were daytime exercises. No aces up the sleeve for today beyond the AIM's maneuverability. The engines roared as Scarlett did the start up alongside the pre-flight checklist and found everything to be satisfactory. For the purpose of training, a universal frequency was given where all pilots could hear each other, though the Froxians had programmed a separate channel that was private to the Lt. Col. and her wingman.

The Auroras made their way to the hold short line. No missiles on the hardpoints beyond targeting pods for simulated lock on, and even the 25mm gun had been loaded with inert casings. Of course, the Froxians were not happy with the lack of any real munitions, but the 25mms could work as slugs in a pinch. It was all for the sake of training, and for that they obliged the Lauzanneans. Scarlett contacted the tower for clearance for take off and then moved onto the taxiway, following to the designated runway with Anna not far behind. They would be playing the role of the aggressors today and would intercept the Hurties. Scarlett felt better taking a look out her tinted cockpit at the JL-9s on the ramp. They looked like nothing special so she figured she'd have a little fun with them. Payback for the Specialist. She revved the engine.

"Voskhod 1, callsign Maverick, taking off."

"Voskhod 2, callsign Sidewinder, taking off."

Both fighters roared down the runway and took off before normal speeds had even been achieved compared to other aircraft. Even at rotation speeds as low as 68 km/h, the Auroras could take off and climb up as their engines started to open up. They had barely made it halfway down the runway and were already soaring up into the air.

"Sidewinder, let's stick up around Angels 5 and head out towards our vector while we wait for company."

"Roger, I'm with ya. Any pre-planning?"

"Give 'em the ol' bait and switch and flip it."

"I love it."

PostPosted: Sun Feb 09, 2020 4:30 pm
by Hurtful Thoughts
The Hurti mission for this exercise was simple, simulate a deep-strike mission getting bumped by light air opposition. Their goal is to remain viable in the ground-support role, aside from not being shot down before the Froxians reach their simulated bingo-fuel and knockoff the exercise. In real life, they would ideally have a fighter escort, but being multi-role the briefing surmises that planning decided to risk it and instead had Kobe's plane designated as "buddy-tanker" and wingman with his air-to-ground stores being slated for an imaginary secondary target closer to the front.

As such the air engagements would be conducted in reverse order, with the simulated deep-strike being intercepted after loss of its escort to bingo-fuel, followed by a ground-engagement exercise by Kobe's plane and an in-air refueling, followed by a re-engagement to simulate an escorted strike-intercept before finally dropping all stores and actually taking the air-to-air seriously.

To be quite honest Colonel Grable was expecting to take considerable losses, as their planes were burdened with external stores in addition to not being particularly advanced in the first place. Best he could hope for was to maybe get a Froxian to hit the simulated hard-deck.

A quick check with each of the pilots and all the ground crewmen with a thumbs-up for go and they were soon off on the taxiway while the Hurti security-forces watched and listened to the radio chatter of all pilots involved. Foyt slapped Schwartz on the back of the head for trying to goad an emotional response from the Froxians.

The Hurti takeoff roll occured much differently than the Froxian one. They had to get to 120 km/hr before attempting to rotate off the tarmac and it even took them longer for the planes to accelerate up to that speed. But that was where the differences began, as instead of immediately pulling into a steep climb, they pumped afterburner and drag-raced their jets out to 800 km/hr before sharply pitching to a 70 degree climb at the edge of the runway, where they cut burners and continued to accelerate out to 880 km/hr at a sustained climb rate of 170m/s, pulling nearly 8 Gs in the process as they shot into the sky like a laser-beam and leveled off at angles 11 to simulate the "hi" portion of their Hi-Lo-Hi strike-run, allowing the Froxians to get a positive track on them before they dive to the "Lo" portion and begin the actual intercept at angels 5 to simulate being only 500 meters above ground level rather than 5000.

PostPosted: Mon Feb 10, 2020 7:27 am
by Lauzanne
The Groza's were fitted with the standard loadout for a training op, which did include standard air-to-air missiles, however one of the MICA ER's spots was taken by a targeting pod to simular radar guided missiles, and another replacing an R-73 to simulate the IR missiles. The reasoning that the others would have heard (and that any branch of the LDF operates on) is that they need to be able to respond to a situation at a moment's notice.

The pair of LAF pilots were the last to take off, taxiing to their designated positions. As they watched the others do their flashy manoeuvres, their radio headsets sprang to life.

"Angel-1, Angel-2, clear for takeoff. 6 Archangel and observe, over."
"Affirmative." Remi replied, looking over to her wingman. His reply was making wings with his hands, which caused Remi to smile.

The pair of Grozas took off as normal, kicking in the afterburners as they started to lift off. The pair started to fork apart, going as vertical as their planes would allow. After climbing high enough and far apart enough, they both activated their flare dispensers, sending them out in such an arc to resemble an angel's wings to the other two nation's pilots and ground crews. After reaching Angels 6, the Dumitru converged on Remi, inverting and flying above his leader before flipping around again and finding his way on her rear-left.

"Good view, Hurties' attacking and Froxians intercepting?" Dumitru asked, peering out at the four other craft sharing the sky.
"Looks like. We're going to have a tough time beating those Froxians, but the Hurties... I hear they're unpredictable, at best."
"I'm going to worry about the Froxians more. Way I heard it, we're dealing with ace pilots in those."
"At least we're earning that paycheck. Eyes out and let's see what they do."

The two LAF pilots watched the events with great interest. Analysing teamwork and behaviours of the other two nations' pilots.

PostPosted: Mon Feb 10, 2020 4:51 pm
by Monfrox
Disc 1, Track 01 - "Training Flight"
"Good morning gentlemen, the temperature is 64 degrees and it is a beeaautiful day for flying. We'll be your dance partners for this exercise, but don't worry if we take the lead." The Lieutenant Colonel said over the training frequency before pushing back to the private channel.

Scarlett led Anna in on their designated vector and looked ahead. The Hurty JL-9s were on radar, but nowhere near close enough to lock yet.

"Tally bandits. Side, let's get flashy. Fence 'em. Scissors into roll and we'll see how we can shake 'em up. Keep on the move. I don't want to get splashed on the first pass."

"Roger, Mav."

"Alright, Major. Let's get the fangs out."

Scarlett and Anna flipped their master arm switches on to activate the targeting pods, which curiously enough were made up to resemble AIM-9s as much as possible, but had no rocket fins to be able to distinguish them from the real thing. It kept training exercises relatively uneventful, as the last thing that was needed was some munitions officer to mix up the two and create an incident. The F-15AIMs came in head first, with Scarlett hitting the afterburner a bit to get out in front of Anna. Being the best pilots in the Monfrox Air Force, they were also responsible to doing acrobatic demonstrations in their Auroras. And so they broke formation and began to perform an alternating scissors maneuver that evolved into a rolling scissors as they got closer and closer, and even started to sharpen the turns to dissuade the Hurties' targeting systems from acquiring a stable lock.

The rolls went tight and they passed right over and under the formation, though Scarlett did not hear good tone. Oh well, you couldn't get lucky all the time. She and Anna came up into alternating high yo-yos, crossing paths before coming along to reacquire the JL-9s.

"Take 'em both at the same time, Side. We've got the edge on 'em, so don't be afraid to get fancy. Don't let 'em touch ya."

"Don't get too cocky, Mav."

"Who, me? Never! Push back to training frequency."

PostPosted: Wed Feb 12, 2020 2:22 am
by Lauzanne
On the ground, a small group of individuals on the edge of a forest saw the planes approaching them. With ramshackle uniforms and mismatched gear, a man with binoculars keeping his eyes on the six jets roaming the skies signalled to the others to get ready. The men wasted no time taking the camouflage netting off of their vehicle. The netting being removed revealed it as a 2K22 Tunguska, the crew jumping inside the metal beast to prepare to fire on the planes flying over their territory.

"Six of them. Two flying straight, two flying around, two at a distance. Look like fighters, but they could have rockets."

The Tunguska fired up, the radar dish raising to the top of the turret as the gunner started to aim it at the encroaching jets.

"Fire when they get closer. We have to surprise them."
The turret rotated towards the encroaching planes, the radars not activating yet so as to not alert their enemy to it's position. But soon enough they would start to fire on them.

PostPosted: Mon Feb 17, 2020 10:44 pm
by Hurtful Thoughts
Hostile skies ahead:
The Hurtian aircraft generally kept flying straight and normal at the weaving interceptors. They figured it'd take three seconds to notch their radars with an 8G manuver plus maybe three seconds margin to shit their pants first in the event of a head-on radar guided intercept. Thankfully, the Froxians appeared to be in a cocky and playful mood, as rather than detect a launch the pair was trying to see how close they could play a game of chicken, apparently well-aware of the fact that Hurti radar guided missiles were semi-active homing and the vast majority of their IR missiles being strictly tail-chasers... Kobe had an idea and thumbed his selector switches to his laser-guided air-to ground rockets; placed to simulate Rockey/Skipper II rocket-propelled guided cluster-bombs... The weapon system being simulated had a radar proximity-fuze sensitive enough to send a 250 meter wide cloud of bomblets into the path of anything that came within 150 meters of it. He just had to get the simualated rocket 'close enough' to get a 'confirmed kill' on the board.

He hadn't noticed, that in his relapse into muscle-memory, he flipped off the safeties and armed the actual air to ground ordnance on his outboard pylons in the process of lasing the Froxian formation. Feeling like gloating, he keyed his mike on the public channel:

"Rockeye-Rifle. Air-to-air contact in five."

What followed was a combination of tranquil fury, panic, and a flurry of mashing buttons as Kobe felt his plane lurch and a rocket take-off and begin snaking true towards the Froxians just seven kilometers away. The first voice to key-in was Marcus Grable, their observing-officer,

"Hold fire. That's live ordnance on your wings!"

"It's already pitbulled ontop Froxian lead; break-break-break." Kobe explained. As the warhead was inert, there was no explosive-charge with which to self-destruct it with, and being a laser homing rocket and not a beam-rider, he needed a valid alternate target within the seeker's limited field of view... which there wasn't anything but clear-sky.

"Simulated firings only or I will shoot you down myself." Marcus said, exasperated at the need to explain why firing actual projectiles at each other would constitute a bad thing. Especially should the five-inch rocket actually hit one of their planes...

Still, Tsu and Kobe had lit their burners as they came to the notching-threshold, finally begining a lazy-looking barrel-roll so as not to rip several tons of live ordnance off their pylons trying to perform a snap-roll. Once past the Froxian aircraft, Tsu's plane went inverted, pulled down excessively to a lower altitude before righting himself, and began to 'notch' the Froxians on his starboard side, "Keep an eye on them, tell me if they're staying on Kobe." Tsu instructed while throttling back, as though he had some sort of plan. Kobe meanwhile kept his afterburners lit and was attempting to bugout at a meager mach 1.05.

Marcus was actually begining to get worried as he heard the turbine spool-down. His time in the F-4 Phantom taught him that at military-thrust a fighter-jet's engines left a plume of smoke... but he soon noticed that the JL-9's R-13 Turbojets were not leaving such a trail... before realizing he wasn't in a Phantom, he was in a dressed-up MiG-21.

PostPosted: Tue Feb 18, 2020 3:34 am
by Monfrox
"Nah, come on! You ain't that lucky!" Scarlett said coming around and watching the rocket streak off from where she had just been. "What's the matter, huh? Little premature on that launch, don'tcha think? You better be careful or you'll blow your whole payload before the real fun starts!"

The Auroras were fast, and nimble with the front canards, which allowed them to come around and reacquire the Hurty JL-9s in record timing, even if there were a lot of Gs between here and there. Scarlett took after Kobe as Anna split off to chase Tsu, wherever he went. Unlike her wingman, Anna was rather quiet and solemn. She preferred to work her own way, which was likened to that of a shark with her favorite strategy to sit under the enemy's rear in a blindspot, and then pull up and splash 'em. But here, she pulled up high and trawled with her radar while she inverted, scanning the ground with her eyes. Her eyes moved from left to right in different angles in a technique developed long ago for the most basic of tactics that still worked. Especially since the Auroras had fake canopy silhouettes painted on the bottom to keep the enemy guess on which way the plain was oriented.

Scarlett pushed her F-15 hard to close distance on Kobe, switching her selector switch to guns. The radar had picked him up and was displaying nicely on the IFF as she homed in on him. He was looking to bug out, but she wouldn't let him. A dumb-fire rocket for an AA weapon? In a training scenario? There would be choice words for the delegation in the after action report, and Kobe had just moved up above Schwartz on her gut-punching list.

"Come on, let's see those fancy dance moves!" The Lt. Col. said as she started encroaching on him.

PostPosted: Wed Feb 19, 2020 7:20 am
by Lauzanne
The man with the binoculars observed the simulated dogfight, unsure of what he was seeing. The test firing of the S-13 rocket spooked him, but as two of them split off in his direction, the man felt a chill up his spine as the binoculars went down, his hand going up to point at the encroaching pair.
"Those two! Those two! Shoot them down, they're coming!" he shouted to the Tunguska's commander, as the radar came to life. He barked some orders to the gunner, and in unison the cannons and launchers raised skywards. The twin radars started to paint targets, no doubt giving off a signal that the other jets could see.
"Ogon! Bring them down!" The man ordered, the Tunguska's guns coming to life as it sprayed streams of shells into the skies, also beginning it's lock on for missiles. It was hoping to get the JL-9 first, followed by the F-15, seeing as they saw the JL-9 fire the rockets and the other one on some kind of escort.

Meanwhile, in the sky.

Remi saw a new blip appear on her screen, different from the others and unmoving. A peer off to the side revealed muzzle flashes coming towards Kobe and Sidewinder.
"All planes, incoming ground fire! Break, break!" Remi hurriedly shouted over her radio to the others.
"We don't have guys out here, the fuck is going on?" Dumitru added, the pair of planes breaking formation and beginning to dive lower.
"Mark down the grid square!" Remi added, Dumitru complying.

PostPosted: Wed Feb 26, 2020 10:16 pm
by Hurtful Thoughts
Kobe smirked that he managed to rattle a Froxian into the mood for a proper dogfight despite the one-sided disimilar nature of their fight. As the F-15 rapidly closed, he kicked rudder and pitched his plane into a rather slippy tailspin with his airbrakes out to rapidly dump 540 kph off his airspeed in a mere 2 seconds as he was flung about his shoulder-straps at 8 Gs... the hot ordnance and still loaded fuel tanks screaming in protest against their shackles as he flicked a knob to drop is landing gear the moment his airspeed crept below 600 kph before taking things vertical.

The rearward ping on his RWR confirmed that Maverick was still eating his afterburners as he took the pair into a high speed spiral down to 550 meters [1750 ft] AGL with only 50 meters of altitude remaining before he 'decked out' and was slated as 'killed via manuvering'. On the way down he was a bit perplexed that his RWR showed a hostile radar spike to his front, as he was almost positive both the F-15s were still aft; not wanting to be trolling Maverick back to Tsu, he keyed his microphone for a visual sitrep as he began punching diamond-throttle on the afterburners in preparation for going vertical, activating ECM and prepping chaff to make the pair look like one gigantic supersonic globular-bomber to Sidewinder in order to discourage any AMRAAM sniper-shots.

Meanwhile, Marcus was talking Tsu the finer points of knife-edging his plane against to sun to minimize casting any glint or ground-shadow for Sidewinder to spot, and to slip into the notch in order to better keep visual on them. He chose not to praise him for choosing to notch into the sun, ensurinf Sidewinder would not have that to her advantage as he started to round past her front quarter and out of maximum AIM-9X off-bore targeting. The F-15 also likely lacked side looking radar, so he was now in the clear unless the dear little kitten had already spotted them visually and was just baiting them.

As he pulled a base immelian to get a thermal taste of Sidewinders rear flank, their radio squawked:
"Marcus, got eyes?"

"Affirm. Bogey-one is trailing you, two is blind and hunting a bit high in the dark. Looks like we'll bag one today."

Back in Kobe's seat, his eyes went wide as he realized while pulling into a climbing vertical rolling scissors with his gear and flaps extended and maximum burn for thrust that the radar lock warning he was getting to his front wasn't Froxian in origin.

"RADAR CONTACT FRONT!" Was about all the warning Kobe could shout over the training frequency as tracers ran in front of his path, raking the underside of his plane before moving on to engage the Froxian coming alongside him at 80 kts.

PostPosted: Thu Feb 27, 2020 1:14 am
by Monfrox
Scarlett grinned as she closed in on Kobe. Her fighter moved almost erratically, but it was going right where she wanted it to. Anna had always said she flew like a bat out of hell, and with her status it wasn't hard to see why she was still around. She notched in and switched the selector to GUN on her stick.

"What's the matter...cat got your tongue?" She said over the radio.

Her Aurora roared and she eased off the afterburners as she came into range, looking for a lock and good tone. She just about heard it when Kobe took his JL-9 vertical. Scarlett inhaled quickly and reacted in record time, rolling to get under and burn off airspeed while just grazing the hard deck altitude before looking up and seeing him take off up high. She pulled up and then cobra maneuvered, foregoing it halfway to full notch the thrusters and keep up with Kobe.

Come on baby, lock up for me...

She watched the JL-9 dance and dumb chaff and flares, and then lower gear and flaps.

"Oh you're not-" She only began before watching the plane in front of her get lit up like a Christmas tree. "What the fuck?"

She hadn't time to contemplate the confusion she was experiencing before more 30mm shells tore her fuselage and engines apart. Warning alerts all over her helmet HUD and in her ears were blaring.

"Shit!" She tried the stick but everything told her that it was bad. "Shit...shit...this is Voskhod 1, I have no control. Ejecting."

She barely managed to get the warning out in time as the Aurora, now no longer under power, threatened to go into a flat spin. She quickly got into position as she watched the altimeter ticking down past 5,000 feet and pulled the seat handles. The canopy blew and the seat launched out of the cockpit. She hadn't been supersonic in the climb, but the wind knocked her arm back and dislocated her shoulder on the way out. At just under 2,000 feet her parachute opened up and she floated down the rest of the way onto the range they were flying over and hit the ground.

"Sunuva-BITCH!" She yelled as she went about getting her survival training in order.

Anna had seen most of the latter half of what happened since she righted herself and notched out to the target area to come around for a radar pass on Tsu when it happened. She called over the radio as she watched the event unfold.

"Voskhod 1 is down, I repeat Voskhod 1 is down. We have two planes down over the AO."

"Voskhod 2, RTB immediately."

"Are you serious?"

"CSAR assets will be deployed now get back to base. We can't have our only two pilots get shot down."

Anna bit her lip for a second. "Voskhod 2, vectoring for RTB. Exercise cancelled." She banked and went low to skim the ground to avoid getting shellacked by whatever was out there.

PostPosted: Thu Feb 27, 2020 10:37 pm
by Lauzanne
Remi and Dumitru flew low to avoid the fire of the unknown contact, the pair now sweating bullets as they made their way back to the airfield while barely above treetop height.

"Flight control, flight control, this is Angel-1. We've been spiked and attacked by unknown anti-air. One F-15 and one JL-9 are down, over."
After a few seconds, the radio came to life.
"Affirmative, Angel 1. RTB and land, CSAR is on the way." the eternally-calm voice on the other side of the radio said, which eased Remi's thoughts a little bit.
"What'll they do, you think?" Dumitru asked, the nervousness apparent in his voice too as Remi shook her head
"Probably get as much as they can out there and exacting revenge on these bastards."

---Elsewhere...---

A phone rang in an office, to be picked up by a large, scarred hand.
"You and your guests have been redirected."
"I take it our... Expertise is needed." the man replied, looking over to his curious compatriot.
"Two other nations' planes have been shot down. Far as we know the pilots may still be alive. I'm with the Minister for Defence and it's a shitshow up here."
"It always is a shitshow up there. Where do you want us?"
"Igrane Airbase. How quickly can you get there?"
The man pursed his lips, nodding to himself
"Within the hour."
"Then you're on the clock. Get them back alive and in one piece, and we may avoid an international incident."
"Consider it done."
With that, the man put the phone down, standing up as his compatriot watched him rise.
"I take it our plans have changed?"
"You heard the phone conversation. Don't think you can play innocent around me, Lyun."
The white-haired female also stood up, the small smile on her face practically her resting expression.
"Well colonel, I suggest we get a move on. We are on the clock, after all."

The Colonel started to gear up within his office as the woman named Lyun walked outside to her team of four, still keeping the same facial expression.
"Gentlemen, grab your gear, live fire. We're doing CSAR today and we're going to meet our new friends at Igrane airbase."

The group immediately started prepping gear and rifles, grabbing live ammunition and starting up their vehicles as Colonel Jonathan Mladic stepped out of his office into the main room, rifle on his chest and pistol at his side. They all mounted up in two IMV's, taking off like a bat out of hell for Igrane airbase.

---Igrane Airbase---

Remi and Dumitru had landed now, looking out at the flurry of action as base defence personnel prepared themselves for a possible attack. MG nests were hastily prepared, vehicles were rolled out to advantageous positions, and they even noticed some helicopters getting prepared for flight as they walked towards the HQ building.
"Think they'll send our guys out too?"
"Yeah, we have some Airborne Recon guys on-base, they were going to do some simulated CSAR with the Froxians, I think."
"Looks like they'll be doing the real thing."
They had to dodge several people running around, even an Airborne Reconnaissance soldier approaching the team of Hurti soldiers.

The man had his rifle slung, but he was otherwise fully loaded to bear as he approached the group that he saw. While no doubt they would have noticed the commotion, it's anyone's guess if they got the news or not.
"Sorry to interrupt whatever it is you're doing, but you're Specialist Foyt, right? One of your planes has been shot down, the Sergeant asked me to come get you guys. We've got a Hind readying up for you right now."

PostPosted: Mon Mar 09, 2020 7:02 pm
by Hurtful Thoughts
[Soundtrack Trigger Warning: Meta Cognito Hazard]

Kobe had likewise managed to eject out of a flat-spin, the side-swinging canopy taking a nasty gouge out of his right shin and causing a tumble before the main-chute jerked him upright under a chute so badly twisted it looked like a streamer. Fighting through the pain he pumped his legs as he untangled the risers as though his life depended on it, as the Tunguska's flak kept spitting around him trying to peck at Maverick's bird. Thankfully the elevated deck-hieght for the simulation had both placed his aircraft in a prime location for being shot-at had also given him just enough precious seconds to get his chute squared away and pick a spot to touch down. His body ripped through a low tree-canopy like a hammer-driven nail through warm butter, branches slapping and lacerating at his flight-suit and jump-boots. He raised his right foot just a hair higher before impact, but the pain still felt like his leg had exploded on impact when he crumpled into the tall-grass and pulled his deflating chute in close to his body.

Elsewhere on the ground, some blue-eyed young Lauzan lad was informing Specialist Foyt what he'd already heard over the radio chatter he and Schwartz had been listening to previously for their amusement. Both their hands were laid-out on the table, Schwartz had lying through his teeth with naught but eights and aces while Foyt had been laying on a full-house with his infamous poker-face. Schwartz rose first, grabbing a mobility-pack and his rifle before bouncing off in seatch of Rosenthal while Foyt tiredly dragged the bulk of he, himself, and all his kit to some manner of attention. "So that's how it is?" He asked, although not to the recon-youngster, his finger had been pressed on the transmit button so Voshkod and Marcus could hear.

In the air, Tsu had dropped his JL-9 in low to the radar-clutter and started pumping up speed again as Marcus monitored the radios for anyone getting a fix on the pilots or the anti-air... and instead heard a protesting Froxian being told point blank to RTB, followed by an old man suddenly keying-in: "So that's how it is?".

Marcus keyed back, "Not for us. Still got four hot pylons we need to unload before RTB and three pilots chomping for some instant kharma. Vosh, get us a bogey-dope on that gun first and then bug-out before the fireworks start. At the very least we can give our buds time to juke their chutes."

PostPosted: Wed Mar 18, 2020 3:24 am
by Lauzanne
The spotter for the Tunguska watched the shootdown of what he perceived to be his enemies with glee. It's not every day that they get to shoot down Lauzannean dogs. However, on seeing one of the planes dive out of the way, he was already feeling uncertain in such a total victory.
"Eyes open, guns ready comrades." he called out to both the men with rifles ready, and the commander of the Tunguska, head out of the vehicle and scanning for threats. They were unsure of what was going to happen, but they hoped they were ready for it.

---Igrane Airbase---

Remi and Dumitru were hurried into a room out of the way of the commotion and bustle of a base coming to alert. The security soldier escorted them quickly and efficiently, making sure they weren't going to be bothered.
"We'll have someone debrief you soon, he's coming from out of province." The soldier explained, leaving both of them to sit and think.
"Out of province? Sounds serious." Dumitru commented as the soldier vanished out of sight, leaving the pair to sit and wait for someone to come from "out of province"

"We'll be dropping in with some Froxian special forces too, they've got their own bird though. I'll show you to your Hind when your boys are all here." the Airborne Reconnaissance man added. He had a slightly different set of gear compared to the regular LDF soldier, namely that the helmet had a bigger strap on it, and he carried what looked to be a C7A2 rather than the modified Kalashnikov actions that the regular infantry use. His goggles were up on his helmet still, and he looked significantly more experienced than your standard infantryman.

---20 minutes later---

A pair of armoured GPV's pulled into the airbase, waved on through quickly and going towards one of the empty hangars at the end. The men exited the vehicles, grabbing their gear and maps as they set up for a briefing as soon as possible. After a few more minutes, Trucks pulled up into the base, parking outside and letting their passengers exit their vehicles.

PostPosted: Thu Apr 16, 2020 1:58 pm
by Cambrian Albany
7 'Gwyllgi' Troop, W Squadron, Commando Reconnaissance Regiment (Comândo Catrawd Rhagchwilio)
---Igrane Airbase---

Sergeant Gwynn ap Eifion grunted as his combat boots hit the ground, snatching his headphones from his ears. He'd been expecting a few more hours of driving before they got to the training area where it would be a few hours of digging two sub-surface observation points and some slightly more forward observation posts in bushes. To that end he's been in the mindset for a fairly easy going day of largely basic admin stuff and fieldcraft. Apparently not, there had been some kind of incident. The unit OPSWO (Operations Warrant Officer) WO1 Heilyn ap Merfyn had been the first to jump out of the transports and his bushy moustache bristled as he twitched nervously -not so much in fear as to he had no idea what was going on. And senior NCOs hate not being on top of a situation unfolding.
"Right, get your shit off the transports and fall in gents, wait for the CO to find out what the fuck is going on." He said with a gravelly voice, and one by one the troopers lugged their large rucksacks off of the truck and stood at ease by the OPSWO, fiddling with their weapons and taking in their surroundings. The unit CO, Major Culhwch ap Dafydd strode with purpose over to the Lauzannian commanders to demand what the hell was going down. He didn't speak much English and certainly none of what they spoke here. His HUMINT Officer Captain Morgan ap Rhydderch, proficient in several languages followed in close step, his marksman rifle slung closely to his body.
"Fucking typical of bloody foreign folk to fuck us about like this, do they not have their own bloody QRF?" Major Culhwch muttered to himself but within earshot of Captain Morgan. Gwyllgi Troop nonetheless cut an impressive image in their mtp combats, their green commando berets still on and their various combat and unit flashes visible on their uniform: parachute wings, the commando knife and the boar's crest helmet flash on their arm patch which identified them as the Commando Reconnaissance Regiment. Of course, these would not be worn in the field were this to be an actual operation, but on exercises it was a decent flex and the beret was more comfortable then their helmets covered in mtp shag on top.
Major Culhwch cleared his throat.
"Gofynnwch iddyn nhw; Pam rydyn ni wedi harhoso? Beth sy'n digwydd?" He said to Captain Morgan, who in turn, hand resting gently on his side arm hanging from his belt, stepped forward to address the Lauzannians.
"Captain Morgan here, we're the Albians. 7 Troop, CCR. My CO wants to know what's going on.."

PostPosted: Sun Apr 19, 2020 3:42 am
by Lauzanne
Colonel Mladic saw the group get off of their trucks, sensing the general mood of the group as they started to mill about and get themselves ready. His hands were on the butt of his rifle, pointed down while slung to his body. He focused his attention on the Captain as he stepped forward, noting that he had his hand on his sidearm.
"Unfortunately we could not give you a proper introduction, but welcome to Lauzanne. I am Colonel Jonathan Mladic, and this is Team 105." Mladic indicated to the five people behind him, loading magazines and swapping out upper receivers on their rifles.
"You won't need the handgun around here, either. We're in an airbase, the insurgents are out there."
"As you may have noticed, the outside base is in a bit of a panic. As much as I would have liked to train with you first, we have the more pressing matter of friendly pilots being shot down on our turf. I will give proper details as soon as the other men arrive."
Mladic's eyes shifted to look at the Major. He was talking in a language Mladic didn't understand, but he was likely the boss given that he was giving out orders and everyone seemed to look to him.
"You must be the Major. Apologies for not giving you updated information, but we had to maintain OPSEC on the radios. You can tell your men we're going to be doing some CSAR and blowing up some air defences. Not what I had in mind for a first day with our honoured guests, but unfortunately life likes to get in the way of many things." Mladic shrugged, his broad shoulders easily lifting all the gear on him. While he wasn't the oldest, his face did have a fair few scars on it, which seemed to become less noticeable when he had a slight smile. He turned his head towards a white haired lady in full gear, her head snapping up along with her body as she paid close attention.

"Спросите пилотов. Узнайте, что они знают." Mladic said to Senior Lieutenant Lyun, who nodded.
"Да, начальник." She replied, moving past the pair of Cambrian soldiers and towards the HQ area.
"Lyun there is practically psychic. Always knows when I need something." Mladic mentioned to the two Cambrians to gauge their reaction. He'd heard some reports, but it was better to gauge individual soldiers rather than the culture at large sometimes.

PostPosted: Sun Apr 19, 2020 2:38 pm
by Cambrian Albany
The Captain kept his hand on the grip of his handgun, it was something for his hand to hold and at this stage he didn't care too much for how it made others feel. He was in a foreign land and had randomly been roped into a potential conflict. He was amused at the sudden chaos of the situation, not that the Imperial Army was immune to chaos and disorganisation but this something different. The Major nodded at Mladic, eyeing up his men carefully, hands firmly on his hips with his assault rifle slung behind him.
"Thank you Colonel, I shall tell my men to stand-by. I will assume you wish 7 Troop to be your recce force?" He said, in slow, heavily accented English. Captain Morgan suppressed a grin at his Major's response and gently stretched his calves as he waited. Major Culhwch raised a single eyebrow at the female operator; not something he had never seen before but equally still a peculiar sight. The thought of his own wife or daughters serving in a combat capacity horrified him; ladies were creatures of the hearth to be cherished, not flung into combat. He wondered what on Earth might compel someone of the fairer sex to become a warrior. Captain Morgan smiled at Mladic's remark.
"Aye, women are attentive like that Colonel." He said with a white-toothed grin.

PostPosted: Sat May 02, 2020 1:15 am
by Hurtful Thoughts
At the sight of the last remaining Froxian RTBing like a scalded felid getting yelled at in a room full of rocking chairs, Marcus merely mumbled under his breath, "So be it" before instructing Tsu to punch it low and fast, pop up on mark and follow the laser guided rocket down (guided by Marcus), then saturate the area in flechettes before dumping the drop-tanks and popping enough flares to be assured of lighting something on fire.

Although the 5" practice warhead was inert, it still would have enough kinetic energy to punch through most thingly armored vehicles and fill the cabin with burnt rocket-fumes. The flechettes... well... would cut down anything unprotected like a machete. The improvised napalm was just a cherry on top.

Back at Igrane Airbase: Foyt, Schwartz, and Rosenthal were busy loading aboard their helicopter, piloted by Lt Joseph Martinez, the backup-pilot. Foyt had been stopped to be notified that their planes had been shot-at, and that there was a Hind ready for them. Instead they'd loaded aboard an Mi-8AMTSh with the clamshell removed and fitted with a plethora of munitions... A minigun in the rear, a grenade launcher in each side-door, and rocket-pods aplenty on stub-wings.

Out in the forest, Kobe was busy trying to make it look as though 300 pounds of kit hadn't crashed through the canopy, hiding the data-computer, and getting the hell out of there with little more than a beefy pistol full of spicy memes and the likely imminent arrival of Hurti air support... he just had to stay alive for the next fifteen minutes.