Exercise Thunder 2032 [IC, MT, OPEN]

[Federal European States]

OOC: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=514801

EUROPEAN FEDERATION, 3RD LOGISTICS BATTALION

Sgt. Donovan of the 3rd Logistics Battalion was charged with transporting tanks. He was having a helluva time loading the next-generation, best of the best into the trailers.

The wind blew across his face as men ran around him and the trailers. Being in the middle of rural Germany, it was relatively cold. At least the roads are paved here, he thought to himself. Walking towards a tank with a relatively new crew, he prepared to tell them how to load. Climbing up to the roof, he saw a relatively fresh-faced commander.

It was one of the Next-Generation tanks, also known as a "Starship". Armed with a ETC cannon and a newer APS system, the "Starship" was a messy, unreliable mess. The engineers had attempted to slap on a ETC cannon on a Leopard 2 chassis, and it was notorious for misfires and other malfunctions. The newer Praetorian series of tanks were starting to come off the production lines, but would not enter service for a few more years.

Feeling the cold wind brush across his face, he climbed ontop of the tank. The commander quickly looked at him with a quizzical look in his face.

"What do you need me to do?"

Donovan quickly replied. "Simple. Follow the cones and drive onto the trailer."

Quickly hopping off, he prepared himself for a long day.

DRABOSKY TRAINING GROUND
POLAND
------------------------------------

General Drabosky was filing through a mess of paperwork. Ranging from observers to requsition requests, he was dealing with a stressful amount of paperwork.

Quickly picking out three important papers from the pile; the logistics paperwork, the observer requests and a leaflet on the naval exercises, he steeled himself for a long day.

OOC: The week has been horrendously busy for me. Apologies for the delay and messy post, quality will go up soon.

[Alcona and Hubris]

HMNB Portsmouth

Lt. Commander Kira Toban, recently appointed Captain of ARN Melkor, let the cold, salty Febuary air slap her in the face to wipe away the memory of finalizing and approving far too many requisition and stowage reports.

She stood on the flying bridge of the main sail, watching the English countryside slide by as Melkor made her way into the Solent.

Her eyes went back along the Melkor, making sure everything was shipshape on her new command. The waves out of the east pushed up on her low round deck. The forward and midship sails were both locked down, ready for any additional waves once they hit the Channel beyond the Isle of Wright.

Toban sighed and considered that she was lucky as a Lieutenant commander to be commanding anything other than a patrol ship back in home waters. But her current charge was sixty years old and one of the more eclectic designs of the ARN, effectively a giant semi-submersible armed cargo ship. The Melkor may have been long in the tooth, but she still carried fuel and food effectively. The Melkor’s unique design still made it hard for most ship borne radars to get a clear picture of her actual size when she was low in the water, with most of her bulk below the water line and only the 'sails' (a term stolen from the submariners) actually returning much of a signature.

“Ma’m? A lieutenant appeared out of the door from the bridge onto the flying bridge. He held out a white mug to her, the smell of tea wafting in the air now with the salt air.

“Brooks…thank you…” She took the mug and took a sip of the crew's brew. Each ship in the ARN seemed to have a unique recipe for their "standard" tea brew. The Melkor's was a bit stronger than she was used to, but someone had remembered that she liked a touch of milk in her tea. “…So Brooks…status on the rest of the Task Force?”

“They just passed Dover Ma’m…steaming north at a leisurely 20 knots…they should arrive in two days as scheduled”

“Ah…so the Wolverine has not had any more issues?”

“All of it seems to be with her long range coms tower…the ship herself seems to still be solid.”

Captain Tobin nodded and looked as the Melkor quickly approached the mouth of the Solent with the Channel beyond.

“So if we hold to 13 knots we will arrive in three days rather than two…” Brooks was officer of the watch and should know this right off per her earlier orders.

“Er yes Ma’m…” he replied. Tobin nodded at that, glad to see Brooks might be only a junior Lieutenant but he was doing his job effectively.

“Fine, we will be a day behind the main task force. Still early for our scheduled resupply.”

“Yes Ma’m…”

Kira looked at the Lieutenant over her tea mug and could see the question in his eyes. Typically it was the XO who was supposed to be focused on training the junior officers, but her current XO wasn’t that much more experienced that Brooks was. And he had burned himself out dealing with the resupply vendor in Portsmouth the last two days so she had given her XO some rack time to recover. And perhaps she should help out here too.

“Permission to speak freely Lieutenant….” She stated dryly.

“Ma’m, why are we not with the fleet…I mean yeah we’ve got a quad 88 to make pirates have a second thought but if anything with some teeth were to come at us...”

“Our and Supra’s job is to relay supplies to the Task Force. The United Duchies not at war with anyone…And the Task Force is not even part of the training event, just here to observe and try out the Wolverines parasites.”

“I wonder how the Poles and Europeans are going to take the Wolverine Ma'm? I mean she looks like Frankenstein's' yacht..."

"They will likely think we've gone mad...none of them have converted a ship into a carrier for years, generally navies like purpose built hulls not merchant conversions unless they are strapped for hulls and time. A passenger ship turned "carrier" isn't something most of them have seen in almost a century..."

“Has anyone else done that? I mean SHIPNAV did it because it was a way of getting a cheap hull with a lot of cabins and staff space for drone operators.... all those cruise ships heading for the scrappers made it a fairly cheap hull to buy for a rebuild job but why would anyone build a normal aircraft carrier out of a passenger ship?….”

Tobin sighed slightly, “The Yanks built two carriers out of passenger ships for training on their great lakes back in World War Two. Hell, it was that idea that spurred the SHIPNAV when they wanted a test platform to test this ‘drone carrier’ idea.”

“Oh…” Tobin nodded at the Lieutenant discovering that the ARN wasn't quite as 'Klatchian' as everyone thought. But another matter popped into her head.

"Lieutenant, please call Chief Moreti to the bridge...I want that inspection report on the Quad....I don't like having 88 mm rounds not fire and just get thrown live onto the deck and I was expecting a report on why it happened by now...even if he got a kill on those targets last week I wan't that problem fixed ASAP."

"Yes Ma'm...I will get him on the horn now..."

Tobin turned as the Lieutenant turned to pull out the ship phone and pass on her order. Her eyes searching the sea lanes beyond and watching the small tanker pass to their starboard. Well three days to the Baltic...

[Federal European States]

EUROPEAN FEDERATION
3rd Squadron (Typhoon)
Drabosky Training Ground
Exercise Thunder 2032
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"Red Lead, this is Papa-4. Count 2 bogeys, weapons safe.."

Captain Sterwill banked his Typhoon. It was old and reliable. Constant upgrades meant that the typhoon was still a reliable force in the 2030s. His Typhoon was a B model, upgraded with top of the line avionics and a AESA radar. Support for the SAAM was added as well.

The third squadron would be fighting against older SU-27s today. They would be acting as CAP for the forces below, and hopefully getting some action.

Keying his radio, he prepared to engage.

"Papa-4, understood. Track our missiles for us. All Red elements, choose a target and dance."

Grunts and calls of affirmation rang out in his headset, as the AWACS data linked to his missiles.

"This is Papa-4. All Red Elements, weapons free, weapons free."

The AWACS had already locked his missile for him. The captive munition "sailed" off of the pylon. The other red elements started to release missiles.

"Red-2, Fox Three."

His Wingman jinked hard left, spitting out flares.

"Red-3, Fox Three."

Red-3 quickly lit his afterburners and started to crank. The SU-27s had already responded.

"Red-4, Fox Three."

Red-4 fired flares and spun. He barely evaded a missile.

"Red lead, incoming. Break right."

His RWR started to chirp. Breaking right, he fired all the flares he could. The missile barely evaded.

"All Red-Elements, one bogey down. Proceed with mission."

No losses yet. Another salvo from the SU-27s. Putting all the force he could into it, he pulled on the joystick. Flare after flare lit the dim night sky. Pushing his aircraft to the limits and starting to blackout due to the G-forces, he finally evaded.

The SU-27s are in knife-fighting range now. Quickly switching to his SAAMs, he prepared a salvo of two IR-Guided missiles.

The familiar warble filled his headset. It reached a high-point, and both missiles released.

Yelling a Fox-two into his headset, he cranked. Lighting his afterburners and attempting to pull the SU into a goose chase, he went towards the sea.

The SU took the bait, and Red-2 quickly followed it.

"Red-2, Guns, Guns, Guns."

The SU broke off, "destroyed". In reality, it was returning to base. Sterwill gave a quick thumbs up to the pilot before calling over the radio.

"This is Red Lead, all targets destroyed. Ammo Winchester, returning to base."

OOC: Power outage nuked half of my post. This is what I had saved, so it had to work.

[Federal European States]

European Federation
3rd Fleet
CVN-03 "Unity"
Baltic Sea
-------------------------------

Admiral Macallister took another sip from his steaming cup of tea. Now in command of the newest ship in the European Navy, he was one of the most experienced Admirals in the navy. Joining the RN right before the dissolution of the Soviet Union, he had a wealth of experience. His original command was a frigate.

Now it was a carrier, and one of the best. The Unity-Class had all stops pulled out. The outdated CIWS systems were replaced by a mix of RAMs, ETC cannons and lasers. The steam catapult was replaced by a electromagnetic catapult that actually worked. Last but not least, a new SHIELDER system was put in, allowing the carrier to communicate and datalink engagement information to the rest of the fleet. The system would also automatically categorize and engage threats on automatic mode.

The exercises planned for the naval contingent consisted of testing of the new ETC guns and the airburst missiles located on the Paris-Class Frigates and Dusseldorf-Class destroyers. The carrier would also be testing the newer Common Stealth Fighter.

They had left port 5 days ago, and were waiting for the start of the naval exercises. The exercises were due to start tomorrow, when the Alconan observers arrived.

Sighing and looking around his bridge, he watched as the crew prepared to launch another jet off of the deck.

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Lieutenant Johnson-nay Captain never expected to be in this position. A few years ago, he was a new pilot. Now he was flying the first few CSFs off the deck of carriers.

The new cockpit was missing a HUD, which was a little strange. However, the new helmet he was issued gave him a near 360 view of the airspace around him, a RADAR display and ammo counts. It nearly made up for it.
A few analogue controls still stuck around as backups. Most of the plane was digitized.

Waiting for the ground crew to motion him up, he attached to a catapult. The rainy February day caused rain to bear down on his cockpit, resulting in a torrent of constant sound. Quickly sighing and putting his noise suppression on, he notified the ground crew that he was ready to go.

On the catapult right next to him, an older Rafale waited to take off.

The ground crew readied the catapult. The platform behind him rose, and he cranked his engines to the max. His afterburners started to roar as his HUD started to count-down.

At the end of the count-down, he was shot off the catapult. The G-forces hit him like a boulder, only for them to suddenly stop. He was in the air.

A few seconds later, the Rafale roared into the sky.

No dogfights for him today. Quickly settling into a lazy eight around the carrier, he started to patrol.

[Alcona and Hubris]

Alcona Flight AR-Black 15
Arkona Sea, South of Bornholm

The first notification that the small Alconian task force was entering the operational area was a BA 114 and BA 115 Unmanned Air Vehicles. Nicknamed Boston Scout and Boston Raider respectively they had been developed by Boston Airworks of Boston Isle Alcona. The platforms were fairly long in the tooth and demonstrated their Klatchian origin by their odd ‘unbalanced design. The Boston UAVs were distinct in having their engine mounted in a long, off set body balanced by a short nacelle, reminding air historians of the BV 141. Of course that allowed the 114 scout to have a wide unobstructed view for long range and hyper spectral sensing. The Raider had replaced those capabilities with optical and radar targeting sensors to support its internal rotary missile payload while maintaining long range and loiter times. A modern fighter jet wouldn’t have much problem splashing either one, but wouldn’t be able to get past the without doing so.

The pair played nice, with the pilots asking for permission of authorities to enter the carrier control area’s western boundary to complete their own forward sweep. As they entered the CCA they simply turned and began a south leg of their own patrol cycle.

---

BC-96, ARN Prince Paul,
Arkona Sea

Commodore Barstone stood on the flag bridge of the Paul and scanned her eye across the horizon. Currently the only ships besides her task force in view was an LNG tanker heading south to a German port and a ferry out of Trelleborg. She turned slightly to look at her ‘civilian’ compatriot Sir John Mathorpe. The long, gangly man was sprawled out across the rail, apparently trying to use the sea air to rid himself of another hangover.

She wrinkled up her nose at that but as a mere Commodore she couldn’t complain too loudly. With Admiral Keller’s recent humanitarian mission to disaster struck Caludsaria into a political tar pit involving the Var, the Admiralty had been forced by the Chief Minister not to allow anymore ‘Naval Adventuring’. That meant that almost all of the ARN Admirals themselves were being kept on a leash in home waters.

Which meant that Black 5, and its Commodore, had gotten the duty of observing Thunder 2032. So now she was trying to observe a major war game exercise rather than heard the evaluation of the Wolverine in northern Klatchian waters. As part of this mission also had to deal with not getting on the wrong side of her political masters. They of course had sent their own representative, to make sure she did not create another political sand trap.

Sir John Mathorpe was here as proxy for the Outer Minister herself, who had a contentious history with the Russian establishment as a journalist in her former career. The Baronet was a polite, curious man with a penchant for wry humor and various forms of alcohol. Although a member of the Inner Sea Militia, and technically a fellow mariner, his career had apparently never served on anything larger than a torpedo gun boat. Unfortunately, the sea militia’s relative egalitarianism left Mathorpe a bit lost onboard a Navy vessel.

At least she had been assigned a flag captain with the mission, a privilege few Commodore’s got in the ARN. John Yetzki was proving to be a quite capable flag officer allowing her more time to manage the diplomatic side of the task force’s mission. Although he might be been wishing to be still an XO of a Pegasus class BC rather than the older Barstow class. The Paul was a good ship, but the Barstow’s were a fill in class that tended to get less upgrades that their the later, and severely upgraded Pegasus class. The Paul may have a full upgraded missile compliment, and two CIS tower but still used only had three 14 inch 40 DUCEs. Barstow’s never had the excess power budget of the Pegasus class, so they either got ETC guns or the CIS not both.

Barstone’s flag lieutenant, Andrea Bryant, appeared on the flying bridge. “Ma’m the forward flight has made contact with the Fed’s CCA. I would expect that we’ll get a welcome from their senior leadership fairly soon,“ She stated dryly. Her flag lieutenant was also a new face, and seemed to have been selected for extreme competence by someone at Navy House. Bryant had replaced Barstone’s former flag lieutenant, Peterson, who had been whisked to an on shore duty station on the same seaplane that had delivered Bryant, Mapthorpe, and Yetzki. The poor bugger was likely now lost in the morass of Navy House itself as some armchair admiral's private gopher.

Mathorpe looked up and then at the Commodore. “So then…?” he asked, demonstrating that he had learned his own failing in understanding the unspoken Navy context.

“We are being herded to my day cabin since its a bit windy out here to take a diplomatic call from our hosts,” Barstone replied. She didn’t need one of Bryant’s tactful reminders about that issue; the Paul was still using internal coms from forty years ago and didn't play that well with modern ship to ship systems.

“Ah, very good…” Mathorpe agreed. He simply stood up and also seemed to make his apparent hang over from last nights poker game with the senior chiefs vanish.