Ace Combat: Broken Line (IC/Open)

by **Parcia** » Mon Jul 04, 2016 11:27 pm

Dragon
Battle of Gozan

He kept checking his surroundings, something....just didn't feel right. He felt a stirring in his gutts and began to check his vectors as well as his radar.

Thats when he saw him. A small, fast target closing in on their formation from range. Its speed and cross section matched that of a MIG-9 "Fargo".

Looking up to his rear view mirror, he clicked the coms.

<< Gunny, Dash, break off and run, enemy Fargo on my ass, looks to be an ACE, wish me luck, papa Dragon out>>

He let the Fargo get a bit closer before he executed his move, something he had picked from watching MIG-15s. pulling back on the throttle and closing it, he yanked hard on the stick at the same time, pitching the fitter up at extreme speed and nearly making Nicky black out. He fought back at the darkness growing in his vision and watched as the Fargo go by, knowing full well he couldn't turn with it, he could use his speed and swept wings to his advantage how ever, and he did just that.

Closing the wings and pushing the throttle to the max, he dove to add just that little bit of speed.

<<This is Scarecrow 1-5 to all friendlies, i have enemy ACE on my 6 and cant shake him, need help!>>

by **Tayner** » Mon Jul 04, 2016 11:38 pm

Parcia wrote:<< Gunny, Dash, break off and run, enemy Fargo on my ass, looks to be an ACE, wish me luck, papa Dragon out>>

Second Lieutenant Dan
Battle of Gozen
Gunny

"Shit what's that?" Gunny said, pointing at a fast approaching dot on the radar. "Is that one of ours?" He said. Before Joker could answer Gunny got a visual, which Dragon seemed to do only a few seconds earlier. "Shit, I thought we were clear." He said. The Viking was never a fighter, and Joker and Gunny were probably the only people who tried to use air to air weapons on the plane. Gunny using gun pods to scare off an enemy ACE back in Tinnamen, and Joker somehow firing sidewinders at bandits over Ansan. Now, the Viking was Winchester, with a big red target on it's back.

<< Dash, make your best speed to Murai Airforce Base, I'll be at your six. Over. >>

"Why can't it ever be that easy?" Joker said.

"I don't know man. Fuck my life." Gunny replied.

by **Prosorusiya** » Tue Jul 05, 2016 11:05 am

Parcia wrote:Dragon
Battle of Gozan

He kept checking his surroundings, something....just didn't feel right. He felt a stirring in his gutts and began to check his vectors as well as his radar.

Thats when he saw him. A small, fast target closing in on their formation from range. Its speed and cross section matched that of a MIG-9 "Fargo".

Looking up to his rear view mirror, he clicked the coms.

<< Gunny, Dash, break off and run, enemy Fargo on my ass, looks to be an ACE, wish me luck, papa Dragon out>>

He let the Fargo get a bit closer before he executed his move, something he had picked from watching MIG-15s. pulling back on the throttle and closing it, he yanked hard on the stick at the same time, pitching the fitter up at extreme speed and nearly making Nicky black out. He fought back at the darkness growing in his vision and watched as the Fargo go by, knowing full well he couldn't turn with it, he could use his speed and swept wings to his advantage how ever, and he did just that.

Closing the wings and pushing the throttle to the max, he dove to add just that little bit of speed.

<<This is Scarecrow 1-5 to all friendlies, i have enemy ACE on my 6 and cant shake him, need help!>>

Nona's cockpit was a Christmas tree of warning lights, all demanding her attention, but the call from Dragon jarred her back into the fight. A glint of silver threatened their formation from the rear. She knew she should run... and yet, she found herself slamming out her Sukhoi's characteristic air breaks, dropping behind Dan. She couldn't leave her allies, not when she had gained so many of her victories from breaking off to attack on her own. The time for charging off on her own was over. Anyways, her wounded Flagon wasn't long for the world. Bringing her smoking aircraft nose up, Nona sent the Flagons engines into a banshee howl as they pushed the interceptor up into Dragon's two o'clock.

<<Dragon, this is Dash. Fuel insufficient to return to base.>> Nona smirked at her own lie. Null would have her ass, if she ever mad with back. << Still got some fight left, though, so I got your two. I ain't leaving you this time, wing man!>>

by **Rupudska** » Tue Jul 05, 2016 11:30 am

The rear of the Gozen zone was already heavily damaged by the time Hound reached it. The Beiarusian anti-air, here and in the woods to the south, had been eliminated completely. The only threat to her now was from above; the MiGs and Sukhois and interceptors still armed with their missiles, as well as a rather active Arrow.

The only enemies left were in the air, and she had but two missiles aboard her Falcon. Her three bombs would just be dead weights, but with so many targets remaining on the ground, just tossing them wherever would be wasteful.

<<This is Hound, I only have two air-to-air missiles, so once I drop these bombs, I'll take out whatever aircraft are in my way then RTB. Pickle!>>

She had aimed a little short of the artillery so she could do as much logistical damage as possible while still doing good damage to the artillery pieces of the area. She was rewarded with a long series of explosions as her bombs tore up the last major bit of resistance the Beiarusians were showing on the ground in Gozen itself.

If only we were winning in the air as well, she thought. She'd love to be able to stay and fight, but there were just too many enemy fighters in the air to risk going for a gunfight - to her at least. Better a rain of missiles in a dogfight than to be ganged up on by twenty Fulcrums in a gunfight.

Speaking of MiGs...

A MiG-25 entered her field of vision, as it chased after an F-15 of Mononoke squadron. It was totally focused on the Eagle in front of it, and failed to notice the Falcon behind it in time.

<<Hound, Fox Two!>>

1x AIM-9 Sidewinder remaining

2x G-Artillery
6x G-Cargo
12x G-Vehicle

by **SaintB** » Tue Jul 05, 2016 2:22 pm

Shark
Battle of Gozen

Hangman Flight was forming up for what may very well be the final fight for them all. Major Corcoran, safe behind the battle lines, once again ordered the squadron to take on impossible odds. Shark didn't even acknowledge the fucker but he did obey; following orders was ingrained into the pilot from his training in Osea.

Kassaran wrote:<<Got that nugget? Pull alongside me, starboard wing line abreast. You're catching number four position on this, King, you better get me some proper top cover or so help me I'll have your ass in hell. Listen to me the both of you and we'll make it through this. Shark, what are my orders once I'm winchester on long-range munitions?>>

<<Improvise Praesus. It's all we can do.>>

Improvising was all they were doing.

<<You all ready to be big fucking heroes? Lets go be big fucking heroes! We just gotta last a few more minutes so lets go bash a few more skulls in and then we can go home. Dorusia can take it from here and we can get a fucking parade or something. And I want one of those novelty checks that are the size of a car when they pay me.>>

He was rambling a bit but that was to hide the fact that if he wasn't being forced back by the G-Forces he faced at Mach 1+ he would probably be pissing himself.

<<Anatoly! Kid! Let's help our Seainese friends out a bit. See that formation of Flankers? Four of them coming in from the west toward Gozen? Target their leader and fire on my mark!>>

He followed his own advice, selecting a Sparrow and pointing his nose Toward the Flanker, <<3! 2! 1! Mark!>>

The missile fell away from Garret's Tigershark and streaked toward its target, joined shortly thereafter by one of Anatoly's R-77s. At this range the Flanker had a lot of time to go evasive as the missiles curved toward it but as usual the formation of fighters broke up with each team in the flight taking off in a different direction. Shark let his Sparrow go, the shot was easily trashed and he couldn't waste time trying to redirect the weapon on a target with his nose, Anatoly's self guided weapon might still be able to hit something though. Shark had to attack right now.

<<Tombstone! On me, lets get in there! All Hangman Squadron you ware weapons free!>>

The Tigershark leaped ahead of the formation hopefully with the Phantom in tow as he rushed toward the front line of battle to get mingled up in the dog fighting.

Enemy-A: Its that Tigershark! He's back!

Enemy-A2: Someone get that guy!

An Su-30 was in the mix of the battle, currently menacing one of the fighters of Jiangashi and playing with them like a cat does a mouse. In his experience a cat often flinched if the mouse came around on them. Selecting his last Sparrow he achieved a target lock on the Flanker-C and fired. The pilot of the supermanueverable fighter abandoned the Falcon he was chasing to go evasive, pulling up sharp and firing chaff before rolling to the left and descending. Shark rushed after the 30 and pumped a burst of cannon rounds toward it but didn't score an effective hit. He tried to line up a better shot but the Flanker-C's pilot pulled up their nose in a Cobra Maneuver, hoping to make the F-20 overshoot but Shark knew a counter for the move that had worked well for him last time. Going full afterburn he pulled his nose directly up as close to 90 degrees as possible and forced his own aircraft into a tail slide. For a few seconds the aircraft climbed straight into the sky but soon began to fall back toward the earth below; he eased the nose down and leveled the aircraft which began flying straight again.

The Su-30 seemed to think it had lost the wily Ace and started to look for a new target but Shark was not far behind and few hundred feet below and in his favorite position for an attack. It came as quite the surprise when the 20mm shells tore through the rear of the Sukhoi designed fighter exploding and burning among the engines and causing widespread damage and havoc. The pilot and his ESO ejected as the engines blew themselves out, pieces of the internal workings rained down to the ground below as they essentially turned themselves inside out from the damage.

<<Scratch that Flanker-C over Gozen. The crew is dropping into Zone B, looks like they'll be landing at a main street if you wanna pick them up.>>

With only one sidewinder left and less than 400 rounds of ammunition for his cannon there wouldn't be much more Shark could do in this furball but he continued to look for opportunities where he could be of use when he heard a familiar voice among the enemy chatter bragging about their kills.

Beiarusia wrote:
<< Nøkken: That’s three. >>

The voice rang a bell but it took the pilot a few seconds to remember who it belonged too... <<Nixxie?>>
<>
<<Shark.>>
<<You picked the wrong side this time Major.>>
<<You picked the wrong side Rachel.>>
<>
<<You picked the aggressor, and then you killed some of my friends.>> Shark's voice was flat, <<Now I'm coming for you Nixie.>>
<<Good luck old man.>>

Loadout: 430 cannon rounds.
AIM-9L, EMPTY, EMPTY, EMPTY, EMPTY
Victories: Su-27 x2
Mig-21
Su-30

by **Armellenia** » Tue Jul 05, 2016 11:26 pm

Lieutenant Wulf "Serpent" Hetzenauer
Flight Two, 13th Mercenary Air Squadron Morena

Wulf's Skyhawk was absolutely loaded down with munitions thanks to the upgrades that had been quickly installed on it, doubling the amount he could carry on his wing pylons. On the centerline rack was a Colt Mk. 4 20mm twin barrel gun pod with 750 rounds of ammunition. On the inward pylons were two AIM-9 Sidewinder and two AGM-65 Maverick air to air and air to ground missiles, respectively. On the outboard pylons were four GBU-16 Paveway II guided bombs. To top it all off, his A-4 had 400 rounds of ammunition for its dual 30mm ADEN cannons.

As Wulf arrived in the rear area of the Gozen section, he watched as Hound destroyed several of the last remaining ground targets in the area. The fight in the air was much more intense and in need of attention, but Wulf's aircraft was still carrying over four thousand pounds of ground munitions.

He headed towards the remaining vehicles in the AO, mostly panicked by Hound's attack.

<<Serpent, commencing attack run. Fox Two.>>

An AGM-65 Maverick streaked off the rail and knocked out an artillery piece. Without sufficient time to aim another Maverick, Wulf tore apart another nearby 2S9 with short bursts from both his 20mm gunpod and 30mm cannons, shaking small Skyhawk almost off-course. To say that the lightly armored SPG was opened like a can of tuna was an understatement.

Turning around, he set his sights on the last artillery piece.

<<Serpent, Fox Two.>>

The missile trashed, slamming into the ground.

Damn it, Wulf thought. He was too far in on his run to calculate for another missile shot, but he was out of them, anyways. He engaged his airbrakes, halved his throttle, and precisely aimed his drop.

<<Serpent. Bombs away.>>

Two of his GBUs fell away, guiding themselves into the artillery position. The last Nona, along with two nearby vehicles and an APC, were taken by the blast.

Pulling up, Wulf doubled around for one final time on his last run. In the process, low-caliber fire, possibly from the APCs that dwelled in the area below, hit and scuffed up his right wing. He needed to make it quick.

He selected a grouping of a small number of cargo trucks. It wasn't much, but it would do.

<<Serpent, bombs away.>>

The two bombs fell on the cargo trucks. One bomb, the guidance system seemingly faulty, missed entirely. The other, however, landed on target, killing four cargo trucks, along with a nearby vehicle.

<<Serpent, bombs and AGMs gone. Joining the battle in the air.>>

Wulf pulled off of his run in the now mostly decimated rear sector of Gozen.

KILLS
x4 G-Cargo
x1 G-APC
x3 G-Artillery
x3 G-Vehicle

MUNITIONS
x2 AIM-9 Sidewinder
730 rds. 20mm (Gunpod)
375 rds. 30mm

by **Relikai** » Wed Jul 06, 2016 1:30 am

Second Lieutenants Shimazaki Haruna 'Shinden', Kanzaki Yuria 'Reppu'
Battle of Gozen

The destruction of enemy fighters around Shinden and Reppu brought a combined sigh of relief, Shinden finally able to regain full control of her body as she checked her radar. Reppu leaned back on her seat, readjusting herself as Shinden did the honour of thanking the others. Angel, Null, Bull... All of Scarecrow Flight.

Shinden: << Morena, Scarecrow Three. Thanks for the assist. >>

"That was some flying." Reppu said as the plane turned to the rear to regroup with the allied forces recovering from the long range missile attack. Reppu had pulled off some stunts to challenge the Osean and Usean acrobatics teams in her F-16A, but that the Tornado was able to be pushed to achieve such a maneuver was something that she would not expect from a variable-geometry plane meant to hammer at ground targets rather than duke it out with Flankers. Speaking of which, it was the second time they actually tangled with those planes, the first time still fresh in their memory, the aftermath not a pleasant one. It seemed that Shinden has adapted well, to both the limitations of this multirole, and her psychological readiness to tackle the stress piled on both her mind and body. There would still be improvements needed tho, it was still a long way for Shinden to realise her true potential.

"I watched some videos... read some books." Shinden replied, remembering the past couple of days where she stayed up to read pilot diaries and journals, the Tornado's performance in the previous battle gnawing at her conscience. She poured over the notes and reports on using variable geometry aircraft, as well as the technical specifications of the Su-27s and the Tornado. Of course, no matter how much knowledge she pulled, it was impossible for the multirole to outmaneuver a dedicated dogfighter. However, having knowledge and information beats going in blind, her dedication at improvement saving Shinden for this part of the battle, allowing her to buy enough time for her allies to take out her chasers.

Shinden was about to prepare for another turn when she heard a burst in the common net.

<< Tenko: We lost a plane! Dammit, was that Sting!? >>

The fireball could be seen, and for a moment Shinden choked, her heart shooting up and constricting her of breath. Sting, Hiro Myeong, the young pilot who she saved previously, who saved her more than once... It can't be, can it?

<< Sting: Negative. I’m still up if only barely. >>

Her hand fell onto her lap, Shinden breathing free again. There was a moment of peace as she closed her eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek, sliding off the oxygen mask attached to her nose. She had so much to tell him... A moment of humanity within the chaos of battle, Shinden felt almost selfish, to experience such a thing while her allies were still fighting for their lives, for their country.

The battle was still going on, the Beiarusian planes playing it smart. There was a call from the Major that reinforcements were incoming, hope rising within Shinden and Reppu as leveled out, seeing a burning Flagon trying to keep up with Dragon's Fitter. It won't last, and unless the pilot was suicidal, she'd need to disengage and return to base, immediately. But what caught the attention of Scarecrow Three, was the little Fargo darting on Dragon's tail, aiming for the only fighter which seemed capable of fighting back. The wounded plane was falling apart, the Viking would be easy prey once the Fitter was dealt with.

Dragon <<This is Scarecrow 1-5 to all friendlies, i have enemy ACE on my 6 and cant shake him, need help!>>

Shinden: << Scarecrow Five, Scarecrow Three. Incoming on your six. >>

The double engines of the Tornado roared to life, Reppu noting the fuel gauge as Shinden dived at the attacking Fargo. The shrill cry of a missile lock sounded in her helmet, as Reppu confirmed the lock of a Sidewinder.

Shinden: << Scarecrow Three, Fox Two! >>

The missile sped from the rail, just as the Fargo made an extreme turn which shocked the two pilots. Flares popped from the antique as the Sidewinder was fooled, chasing a flare to nothingness. Gritting her teeth, Shinden lined the Tornado for another shot, just as the Ace dropped from their visuals. Just like that, it was gone, neither Shinden nor Reppu able to track it on radar due to the lack of electronics onboard, nor were they able to keep a visual sighting of it.

The Tornado soared on for a moment, Shinden looking over to Dragon and Dash, seeing that they were in the clear. The two Yuktobanian made aircraft seemed peppered, and something inside Reppu twitched, a slight emotion of anger coming up at how the Flagon nearly threw it's life away had the Fargo concentrated on attacking the trio, and if Shinden was unable to chase it away from their six.

Shinden: << Scarecrow Three to Scarecrow Four and Five, evacuate from the battlefield immediately, you're of more use to Morena alive than de- >>

A chill ran down Shinden's spine, her hands suddenly cold and clammy. Reppu was frozen to her seat as well, the glint of metal to either side of the Tornado explaining the sudden cut in communications. It was as if they simply dropped off the radio net, Shinden and Reppu both unable to end their transmission formally. As if on cue, Shinden and Reppu turned to the side of the Tornado, the multirole leading a flight of three aircraft towards the unknown.

Two YE-8s, prototype interceptors derived from the popular MiG-21 Fishbed, flew level to Shinden, flanking the plane after seeing it attack their leader. The pilots were looking over at the two Seianese pilots, as if they were smiling at a prey, sending a mental message that they should have been dead. The moment lasted for a few seconds, although to Shinden it seemed like an eternity. As if a mutual understanding was achieved, the two YE-8s wiggled their wings, before cutting back on their power, noses pointed up.

Lining their planes for an attack on the Tornado.

The multirole sprang into action, afterburners on as Shinden pulled hard on the control stick, bringing the plane up as it pointed to the sky, Reppu able to see the glints of the two pursuing planes behind her. They were not Flankers, but their possessed a superior climb at the cost of turning ability. A weakness Shinden sought to exploit, as her plane turned, bleeding speed as the three jets entered a deadly dance. The range was too short for missiles, and the Tornado has only several seconds of cannon fire. A hard turn to the left evaded a stream of tracers, only to come within sight of the other YE-8. Cannon rounds hammered at the fuselage, but the Tornado held on, the damage minimal due to an awkward angle of attack.

"Don't let them hit our engines!" Reppu cried, trying to achieve a lock with a Sidewinder to no avail. Hopefully with Shinden pulling these two away, Morena could deal with the Ace before they need to transmit another call for help...

Victories

Southern Woods

1x F3 (Fulcrum)
1x F3 (Fencer)

Southern Woods Zone F
G-SAM x2
G-AA x3
G-Tank (T-10) x3
G-Tank (T-72) x4
G-Tank L x2
G-Vehicle x4
G-APC x3

Southern Woods Zone E

G-Tank (T-10) x2
G-Tank (T-72) x1
G-APC x2
G-Vehicle x2

Gozen

1x F3 (Fishbed)

Gozen Zone D

G-Artillery, Heavy x1
G-Vehicle x1
G-Cargo x4

Weapons -
127x 27mm Cannon Rounds
1x Sidewinders

by **Parcia** » Wed Jul 06, 2016 1:47 am

Dragon
Battle of Guzan
really fucked up day

Seeing shinden/Reppu take on Fargo gave him a twinge of hope. Watching it disappear from his radar a well...this made said twinge disappear. "Ah hell" switching to guns, he swung the plane wide, not caring were the Fargo had went and began to fallow one of the prototype aircraft. The YE-8 saw him and began to pull hard turns and rolls to avoid him. Using the Fitters wings and lack of external ordinance to cause drag, he was able to keep up with the aircraft. It dove as he got with in gun range and kept going and turning. Who ever was at the stick was skilled, more so then Nicky would, though he would never admit it.

<< 3, focus on the one nearest year, I have just enough to blow this fucker up>>

Twisting and turning, the YE-8 kept trying and trying to shake the fitter, and Nicky kept just barely staying off target to land a kill shot. He knew he only had one chance. Pulling off hard, he began to climb and open the gap between him and the YE. It took the bait and turned after him, thinking he had run. Seeing the YE closing in, he pulled back hard and turned to face him. With a missile lock blaring in his ears and the YE holding his course, the two planes flew at each other at speed. At the last moment, the YE fired his missile, and Nicky emptied all 60 rounds of ammo left.

The shock from the impact of the enemy KA-13 shook him badly, and he began to dive uncontrollably. As he looked around, he could see the YE twirling down in flames, the whole front of the aircraft in pieces from where he 30mm shells had hit. He had gotten the kill, at the cost of his own plane.

<<Scarecrow lead, 3, enemy ace escort down, my bird is fucked, i'm stepping out for a walk, make sure to send a cab for me, Dragon out.>>

He made sure he had all of his gear and reached down to pull the handle on for his ejection seat. Closing his eyes and counting to 3, he yanked on it and shot up out of the now burning fitter. With the wind whipping in his ears, the seat fell away and his chute deployed. Now opening his eyes, he was a good 2200 feet up and slowly descending.

What a hell of a day.

Kills: 1x YE-8
Ammo left: None
SU-17 lost, pilot alive.

by **Independent States of Tula** » Wed Jul 06, 2016 11:00 am

2nd Lieutenants Vladimir Tula and Hanna Tula
Southern Woods, Gozen, Seian

"There's still a Yak left." Hanna stated.

"Yeah, it's screwing off towards the two MiGs. They're going to do everything they can to keep us away from Gozen." Vladimir replied before adding "We have a little over six seconds of guns left. No missiles though."

"With the ECM pod we should be able to get close enough for a dogfight. But going up against two Fulcrums without a wingman...I don't think even we can survive that." Hanna replied.

Vladimir was about to say something in reply when suddenly he noticed the last Yak-28 signature disappear off the radar screen, in surprise he asked "Wait...what...what just happened?"

"What's going on?" Hanna asked in concern.

"That last Yak just disappeared." Vladimir stated in surprise.

Suddenly the comms for Ghost flight came alive as a familiar Yuktobanian voice came over the radio waves.

<< Arrow: Hello Tovarishchi! You miss us? >>

<< Wolf: Arrow, you son of a bitch! Where the hell have you been? >>

<< Arrow: I'll take that as a yes. So, I see two Fulcrums are waiting...want to take them on together? >>

<< Wolf: Roger, let's go in combat spread, you head up into the perch...we'll play defensive. See if you can grab a MiG with a missile while you're at it. >>

<< Arrow: Roger that Tovarishch! Heading up now. >>

"Alright Hanna, level with the MiGs, let's get these bastards." Vladimir stated.

Hanna merely replied by giving a thumbs up as the Phantom moved to level with the two MiGs, both of which were now going in after the two members of Ghost Flight. One began to climb towards the Phantom of Arrow and Flash, while the other began moving for Vladimir and Hanna.

<< Enemy-A: The Black Phantom...heard you're a triple Ace now. I should get a nice medal for this when I down you...do me a favor, don't eject when you're falling out of the sky, saves me the trouble of shooting up your chutes. >>

<< Bear: You talk too much. >>

Vladimir was a bit worried at that, Hanna's shock had definitely worn off by now...but it was replaced by a cold hate.

<< Arrow: Fox-One! Fox-Two! Take those you bastard! >>

With that radio chatter Vladimir knew that Ghost-Three's battle had begun, and in seconds so too would theirs. Currently the two adversaries were coming straight at each other in a form of chicken. Both refusing to yield for the other. Hanna lined up her gunsight on the MiG and waited...until suddenly she pulled the trigger. The 20mm rounds flew forward just as the MiG fired its rounds as well. Vladimir watched one round bounce off the top of their right wing and knew the enemy had missed...Hanna however did not. The enemy MiG was torn apart, the pilot must of been turned to shreds as his cockpit was shattered and his jet began to fall towards the ground in flames.

"Good kill Hanna." Vladimir stated.

"Yeah." Was Hanna's simple reply.

<< Arrow: Hey, Ghost-Two. Good kill. Looks like we're all clear in the skies here. Let's head north to Gozen! They seem like they could use some help. >>

<< Wolf: Roger, Ghost-Two moving north. Form up off our wing. >>

Total Kills:

1x Su-24
1x Su-25
1x MiG-9
1x Su-27
2x Yak-28
1x MiG-29

Baha (KIA):

2x T-10
2x ZSU-23-4

Frostbite (KIA):

1x Su-27

Arrow+Flash:

1x Yak-28
1x MiG-29

Munitions:

1x M61A1 Vulcan Cannon (602 Rounds of HE-I Remaining aka 6 Seconds of Ammunition)
1x AN/ALQ-131 ECM Pod

by **Kassaran** » Thu Jul 07, 2016 12:07 am

Praeses
The Battle of Gozen

Flying line abreast, the formation was looking good and having been instructed to improvise, Pearsohn respooled his radar systems once again, making sure everything was still working fine before suddenly a voice he'd heard only a time or two before cut in.

<<This is Cocoran. Do not, I repeat, do not retreat no matter the circumstance. Hold that airspace even if it’s the last damn thing you do. The 101st has just crossed into Seianese airspace and will be there soon to clean up this mess. We’re not losing this war because you can’t hold the line.>>

"The hundred-and-first? The hell is Cocoran on about? There's no Seianese hundred-and-firs-." His voice went cold as his mask seemed to ice his mouth and his heart went numb. A deep, creeping sensation crawling slowly and steadily through his spine and up into the back of his brain where now an intensely fuzzy portion of his memory was clearing up like wisps of vapor off a field at dawn. The crisp condensation on every blade of grass, every ink blot, every pixel in his mind, slowly wiped away. He'd never quite figured out why the Seianese were paying him so much, they didn't even seem to have enough to pay their own pilots, and the few Dorusian pilots present he'd never questioned, why would he? They were all just mercenaries flying for a country under duress, right?

<<Dorian's here?>>

No. The cockpit went seemingly quiet, only the gentle hum of the engines seemed to remain in constant volume as the sound of his now thumping heart growed in his ears. No, no, no. Why? Why hadn't he seen it earlier? Why hadn't he been able to figure it all out, piece it together, had he really been that stupid? That fucking ignorant and naive that he'd have overlooked something so great as to where he was getting his paycheck? No, he'd been over the contract a dozen times, hadn't he? He'd been over it with Anton and-

Anton.

The fucking wolf had set him up, had kept him in the dark to whom he'd be actually working for, his paychecks had always been sent straight to Anton who'd deposited it for him, everything he'd done, Anton as his so-called 'sponsor' had always interceded and left Pearsohn to do the flying, that's how it had always been. He'd not known whom he was working for from the start, Anton had set it up that way and now everything was obvious to Pearsohn as he had them crawling up his fucking back. Dorusians. They had no honor for all, to make it worse was now he knew he'd been fighting perhaps on the wrong side all along. They were the opportunistic scum of the earth as far as he knew. He'd seen what they'd done to people, he knew one in particular whom had seen it first hand.

No, something had to be wrong, something had to be very very wrong if the Reavers were here.

<< We have allied reinforcements inbound. Good ones. I won’t say this often but the Major is right. We need to hold out for as long as we can. Just a little longer. >>

Had he picked the wrong side? Had he made the wrong friends? The hapless Angel and that bastard Null, had they known? Did they even think of asking themselves whom they were flying with? No, they couldn't have, there's no way they'd know. In fact, he could see them right now, that faint blip on his radar, tracking ever so slightly in the the fast-closing gap between the enemy interceptor force and he could launch right now and take them before they'd ever be able to react. Yeah, he could. It'd be easy. He'd never even realize whom he'd been flying with, the man from Sotoa, the one whom these so-called allies of his had robbed of a squadron on that night all those years ago. His Arrow had been a tribute to that first squadron and he'd changed his call sign for it. Never again did he want to see a massacre like that again and now he'd be able to right the wrongs, fix everything even if it cost him his life and his plane.

Yeah, he could do that.

But what about her? What about Strela?

It was almost as though the moment her memory came into picture, everything faded from the red he'd been seeing back into some sort of resemblance of an angry yet sensible person. His wits coming back to him, he knew that this anger he felt was nothing, absolutely nothing. He'd be able to question Null about it later, if not interrogate him, but for now he had one job. If the 101^st was on its way in, he couldn't go red. Not in the slightest.

It was at this punctuation point to his train of thought on what to do that suddenly Shark's comms cut into the headset. Looks like he had other worries and they were the ones Pearsohn needed to focus on.

<<You all ready to be big fucking heroes? Lets go be big fucking heroes! We just gotta last a few more minutes so lets go bash a few more skulls in and then we can go home. Dorusia can take it from here and we can get a fucking parade or something. And I want one of those novelty checks that are the size of a car when they pay me.>>

It made his mouth taste bitter, hearing those words, to leave it to Dorusia. No, he wasn't going to do that, not while he still had a say. If it came down to it, he'd take every last chance to prove himself a pilot for Seian, not for Dorusia no matter where the paycheck came from.

Watching as missiles arced from beneath the wings of both Shark and Anatoly, the streams of smoke cutting out a kilometer or so upstream as the missile's boosters gave out and they began their initial glide and maneuver elements. While the first few shots seemed to go ineffective, a blip cut out on the screen as suddenly Anatoly's SARHs struck home. The first must have been trashed based on the delay, but the ripple fire had been more than enough to force the Flanker into an open position. Too far to see much more than the sudden winking out of the contact, Praeses cut his comms silence and confirmed the kill.

<<Alright kid, nice shot, but don't get cocky. I'm going in, we need to get weapons hot and close if we're going to do anything before those bastards in the 1-0-1 steal our paychecks! Keep me covered, I think I might see someone familiar, and I got a little disagreement with them to settle.>>

Sure enough, his radar was catching three contacts, flying fast, but low and they were weak, like something that lacked an active radar... something like a-

<<This is Scarecrow 1-5 to all friendlies, i have enemy ACE on my 6 and cant shake him, need help!>>

He'd managed to open up his comms to the Squadron frequency on the exfil from the A-O only a few minutes of before, and it was good that he did because now he could hear what was unfolding far below and a solid dozen or so kilometers over the wood. The contact he had been watching had finally exposed himself as he began to engage the friendlies in the ground-attack units. That maneuverability and that merge rate, it could only mean one craft designed for special combat applications. Baron's Mig-9 was back, and this time it was better than ever.

"Let's scrap us a Fargo."

<<Anatoly, break now and support Shark, I'll be fine. Do what you can and you'll be fine too.>>

<<Negative Praeses, I'm coming with you.>>

Wingman's complex, eh? Alrighty then, this wasn't something new to Pearsohn and perhaps here it wasn't all that unwelcome given the circumstances as that Ace had two escorts with him. As he began to open up the throttle, it became apparent though that the airspace over there was growing quickly heated as more and more aircraft seemed to be joining the fray.

<<Scarecrow Five, Scarecrow Three. Incoming on your six.>>

That was Haruna's voice, the blip for Shinden's Tornado entering the merge as it pursued the near invisible blip on the radar screen, he suddenly watched as the two escorts also seemed to slip into the merge. He'd barely seen the two blips merge with the two inter tangled ones then suddenly a small signature winked out as it began to break from the merge in the front and high. No confirmed kills or attacks in spite of the missile fired. What in the hell was happening over there? The sight on the radar screen of two other friendlies beginning to limp away had Pearsohn's guess confirmed as to what had happened.

<< Scarecrow Three to Scarecrow Four and Five, evacuate from the battlefield immediately, you're of more use to Morena alive than de- >>

Silence, but the radar signatures still stuck in the merge were holding. Three confirmed contacts, but no way to distinguish between them at this range. He was closing fast though and the interceptor on his wing also appeared to be watching the engagement closely. Then the comms exploded into activity again as Scarecrow Five seemed to suddenly hang in spot for a moment. He was turning back, he was damaged. Just what the hell was he trying for with so many already dead? Did he completely miss the point of retreating? did he even understand what it was that he was doing?

<< 3, focus on the one nearest year, I have just enough to blow this fucker up.>>

What the hell? No, seriously, what in the actual fucking hell was going on down there? Nothing he'd just said had made sense and more contacts dropped again into the merge as the maneuvering fighters on the deck seemed to do what they could to again reestablish contact and then it happened. In almost a flash an entire merge ended and not a single call out had been made. For a tense ten seconds there seemed to be a certain morbidity hanging in the air regarding the actions of the man whom had seemingly just given his life. There was still an enemy Ace somewhere out there, stealthy fucker that it was, it probably had just dropped even lower to the deck after pulling a hammerhead. The escort he had though was now tied up in the engagement with one now destroyed... at the cost of one of Morena's. another pilot... dea-

<<Scarecrow lead, 3, enemy ace escort down, my bird is fucked, I'm stepping out for a walk, make sure to send a cab for me, Dragon out.>>

Right, that was the name of one ass he was going to kick once he got back on the ground alongside another, noting the retreating form of his once-off wingwoman Nona. She'd seemed to have tried the same shenanigan, but this time she was completely in the open as she tried to turn back into the merge. The signature of a small fighter seeming to suddenly rise from the ground clutter immediately pinged on Praeses' radar and thumbing open the lock, he opened up again.

<<Nona! Break! He's on your ass! Break! Break! Break!>>

Distances seemed to grow exponentially smaller as he nosed down into a dive, the altimeter seeming to become nothing more than a countdown timer to imminent demise as his aircraft's speed slowly seemed to struggle to break twice the speed of sound. Sure it could barely maintain that at sea level, but this wasn't sea level and pushing the craft harder he opened up the afterburner, feeling the kick in the ass as jet fuel mixed with the already burning air in the exhaust and slammed forward the craft past Mach 2. The HUD, suddenly blaring aircraft structural integrity alarms as the G-meter spiked, every slight buffet of turbulence hitting him like flak to those old strategic bombers of ages past. It wouldn't be enough, but what would would be the last weight he had on him, and watching with a rising sense of dread as, though the distance began to separate the targets in the merge, Nona wouldn't seem to break fast enough. The Fargo had the drop on her and having turned back, she'd almost gotten herself killed yet again... almost.

<<Praeses! Fox Two!>>

The sudden lurching of the craft as the hardpoints seemed to snap during the launch and the shockwave of the missile's exhaust buffeting the underside of the fuselage as it exploded into action and lanced away from the Mirage left Praeses breathing heavy into his mask. That Mig 9, he'd seemed to have dodged a shot before and if that had told him anything, it was that he'd have to dodge this one too. Watching with baited breath, his gamble paid off as again the Fargo seemed to sense the inbound missile launch and broke from the engagement, going high. He was fast and agile, but he wasn't quite as fast and agile as he hoped he was, the missile tracking still. Then his signature winked out again as the missile trashed itself.

"Dammit, fucking piece of shit Aurellian snail launchers! Fuck!"

The stream of curses came to a close as suddenly he found himself now diving into the fray, the distant glints of aircraft twisting and turning to try and engage one another gave light to the third aircraft's fate. Dash, having been spared by Praeses' missile, now was beginning to disengage, or just lose relevance in the dogfight as it slowly moved lower and lower into thicker and thicker air. Down there, she'd just lose relevance as her craft would continue to fail, damaged and in need of critical repair. He smiled, at least that much had working in his favor and affording himself a second to pat himself on the back, the sight of the Fargo's front in his peripheral vision, climbing fast as he entered the wide turning fight that was the wagon-wheeled dogfight between Haruna and the enemy Faceplate now forced him into an evasive maneuver.

He slammed hard on the stick and forced the overshoot as the white-hot glow of several tracers slammed into the side of the Mirage's fuselage and flew through. What could have been serious damage though rendered only over penetrations. Nothing had been hit save for the aircraft's skin and the gauges immediately assuaged any other of Praeses' fears as nothing rang out as suddenly having changed states. Now only the vibrations brought by maneuvering so hard at Mach 1 (having slipped back below the Mach 2 threshold in the thicker atmosphere on the deck), left the craft at a momentary disadvantage before superior energy and climb rate allowed him to come out of the wide barrel roll in the steepest climb he'd tried yet.

The nose of the Mirage slowly lifting further and further away from the horizon, he watched as everything seemed to slip into a darkened state as the g's of the sudden climb forced the Mig-9 below to try and pull down and retain what little energy he could. There was no way to engage the Mirage in a straight climb when the energy difference was so great. slowly the altimeter's rapid spooling seemed to slow to a crawl, and only then did Pearsohn's nose seem to drop lower and lower. Like sitting in the front on a really tall roller-coaster, he watched as the horizon slipped back into view and gradually filled up his entire windscreen and eventually the entire world was just the lush and green verdant hues of the foliage of the Seianese countryside.

Far below he watched as the hurtling figures of a Tornado and a Faceplate slowly approached the duel going on between himself and the Fargo pilot and seeing the advantageous position he himself was in, he slowly tipped the craft into a wide open corkscrew. It didn't take longer than a half-second for the two to suddenly flash past him and in the split-second he had, he opened up with his own cannon. The brief half-second burst maintained a tight spread, but that was to the fortune of the Faceplate pilot as the shots flew wide and stayed wide. Whomever these two were, they were good and had been trained in precisely the maneuvers they needed to be in order to avoid getting shot down in such engagements as these.

<<Shinden, tag me into this fight, I need you to take on that fucker in the Fargo. Lost him in the undergrowth. Anatoly! Get your ass over to Dash and both of you get clear. Escort her to the-shit! Shinden!>>

The sudden flashing of steel across his canopy alerted him to the Fargo that had just rolled over his craft as it overshot. He'd not even seen the shot's he must have fired if he'd even done so. Nothing was blaring so that was good, he hoped. Slamming the stick hard left as the Fargo again pulled inverted and began a tight Immelman, Praeses' own craft seemed to try and do the same perpendicular to the Fargo's current trajectory, but anything could happen up here and with that though, he suddenly caught the Fargo's intent as again the Tornado flashed past beneath him in the inversion, the craft's signature design quickly identifying it amongst the ground clutter to Praeses and the sudden appearance of the Faceplate also caught in the turn gave him yet another chance to fire.

<<3, guns, guns, guns!>>

A hailstorm of 30 millimeter cannon shells seemed to rain down around the profiled silhouette of the Faceplate in the banking turn and the sudden impacting of the HE shells seemed to do something as a few pieces of skin and control surfaces broke off, but nowhere near anything critical as it quickly fudged the radar-guided lock for the cannons beneath Praeses and reversed the roll. The Faceplate seemed to be moving like a knife through water, like a leaf through the wind. This pilot was good, but Praeses was likely better... at least, that was all he could hope for as the Faceplate's attack against Shinden was foiled again in the couple's party going on. The sudden sound of something cracking against the side and back of his Mirage and the sudden feeling of his control surfaces going momentarily sluggish as a hydraulic line was ripped open force Pearsohn into a lightning-fast reversal of his own.

Now it was age and beauty against likely age and beauty. The Faceplate pilot had seen his own fair share of engagements, that much was certain and while he most certainly didn't bear any markings of an ace, the flight patterns were distinctive. This man had played this role before, of being the bait, and he was damned good. Pearsohn, and the two girls in the Tornado now screaming past him once again in the opposite direction as the descending corkscrew dogfight turned into a flat scissors over the deck, were far better though. It didn't matter what those two ladies in the Tornado thought, if they'd been holding their own this far, then they had earned their keep and were a damn sight better at a disadvantage like this than this pilot in his Fargo or the vet in the Faceplate could ever hope to be.

Kokkuri
The Battle of Gozen
50km Outside the AO

The lone AWACS sat high in the sky, a glittering silver albatross on the backdrop of cerulean and sapphire. Onboard, the crew of young Seianese officers and communications' specialists sat, sweat beading their foreheads as they watched the dogfights unfolding dozens of kilometers away, determining the fate of not only the battle, but also a nation. Some had appeared to be visibly relieved by the news of the quickly approaching reinforcements, but those were just the young ones called on as replacements for those lost in the evacuation. No, those whom had been around a while knew the picture being painted before them already. The sounds of screaming filled the headsets of those forced to listen as it was all they could do, to at least hear the cries of the dying as they screamed and went quiet, their bodies either being pulverized or shredded or liquefied or burned and spat across the skies and forests below. Boys and men, girls and women, all of them going from cocksure pilots to people trying to survive and yet they couldn't even do that.

No, even though they couldn't see the visceral images of faces exploding into bright pink mists within their helmets before the helmet itself also ripped open like some sort of garish and grotesque party favor in celebration of the horrors of war, the sounds and the silence painted it well enough. They couldn't see the sprays of crimson lifeblood seeping from the corpses of those whom now drifted slowly to the ground to be incinerated by the coffins they brought down with them nor could they see the sudden tensing of a body before impact and the loosening of a pilot's bowels in the microseconds before they were vaporized by their wreckage and the intense heat of the engines slamming forward and through the back of the cockpit and instantly ripping their body's to shreds through bone and muscle.

No, they couldn't see any of that, but they could picture it and hear it and it was enough to instill the deep sense of foreboding now over the entirety of the giant bird in the sky. Every man and woman aboard had the same thoughts creeping through their heads as they questioned if that was about to be them, if they were going to be next and the terror was palpable and gripping at each and every edge and corner of a terminal and control panel. Not a single member aboard Kokkuri was kidding themselves of their supposed isolation, the Mig's that had just appeared not a few minutes before had proven that by taking down their only other defense asset in a luridly bright display of flame and smoke. No parachutes had been seen, but none had been looked for either and thus the fate of that crew seemed to be in the box alongside Schrodinger's cat as the AWACS slowly continued its lazy orbit on the prescribed flight plan, trying to edge closer and closer to the South as in the far distance the signatures of the fast approaching flight of Dorusian fighters could be seen.

It wasn't going to be fast enough though, not as another member of Tenko went up in flame... not as a flight of Mig's seemed to hammer away at the countermeasures of Kasha forcing two of their pilots to bail before a third was struck... and most certainly not as suddenly a new contact appeared to the Northwest.

"Lieutenant! I got contact! Fast mover bearing down on us from the Northwest! It's not flying friendly tags!"

"We're locked!"

<<Unidentified aircraft, this is AWACS Kokkuri, you are entering restricted airspace, divert now or state your intentions and->>

<<AWACS Kokkuri, this is callsign Blackjack, immediately begin maneuvering to the South and prepare for escort. This is a special broadcast for callsign Silvertongue. The Harvest moon seeks a bed of silver.>>

"Lieutenant! We're still locked, but they're feeding us IFF now... they're... wait. No, that can't be right."

"Sergeant! What the hell is going on?"

"IFF reads... Romnyan contacts sir."

"Romnyan? What in the-"

<<This is Callsign Blackjack on a special broadcast for callsign Silvertongue. The Harvest moon seeks a bed of silver.>>

"What are they saying? Does anyone understand that? Who are they talking to?"

"I don't know sir, but they're broadcasting on a repeating channel, they're rapidly approaching us, climbing from the deck at almost Mach 2 sir! We cannot evade, I repeat, we cannot evade!"

"Shit, where the fuck are the Dorusians-"

<<This is Callsign Blackjack on a special broadcast for callsign Silvertongue->>

"And who in the Hells is Silvertongue?"

Praeses
Battle of Gozen

Watching as the Tornado entered the reversal in the fight, Pearsohn quickly reversed in an attempt to catch the Faceplate in the turn, but the sound of cannon fire as a Fargo nearly collided with him again forced him to break off, the smaller and more nimble fighter almost seeming to be herding the bigger interceptor. Watching as the Fargo flew past, the glinting of the metal body suddenly growing dull as it began a climb suddenly gave Pearsohn the opening he'd been looking for...

"Come here you cheeky little sunnuva-"

<<This is callsign Blackjack on a special broadcast for callsign Silvertongue. The Harvest moon seeks a bed of silver.>>

What in the- no... no way they'd done it. No one could get past customs that fast, not unless they'd-

Almost shocked by what he was hearing, the repeating of the phrase suddenly snapped Pearsohn from his momentary daze and trying his best to again catch wherever the sneaky little bastard in the Fargo had gone, still in the climb and trailing just behind the smaller fighter, he gave the response.

<<Callsign Praeses identifies as Silvertongue. The Harvest moon sleeps on a bed of gold! When does the Harvest moon rise? I repeat, when does the Harvest Moon rise?>>

What he heard next sent a rush of adrenaline through his veins and a surge of energy through his bones and weary muscles as he felt excitement replace the wariness that had encroached upon him in this duel of doubles.

<<Callsign Silvertongue... Harvest moon shines bright upon you, the wolf sends his greetings and his pack. Echo-Tango-Alpha is three-zed Sierra. Requesting all friendly callsigns to break engagements and push for deck. Yvdenny Air Superiority Squadron, SCYTHE, on station.>>

<<Kokkuri get everyone below 500 meters! NOW! All Morena Callsigns! Break engagements and drop for the deck! Go! Go! Go!>>

<<This is Callsign Blackjack to all friendly callsigns, Harvest has begun.>>

Yvdenny Air Superiority Squadron; SCYTHE

The mountains seemed to glide past in hurtling shades of green and brown as the hurtling shadows of eight aircraft sped past them down open canyons and valleys, vaulting from point to point. It had been nearly a minute since Blackjack had begun the climb to engage in guidance operations, now it was all left to the accuracy of the flight-plan devised on the way in to guide the two flights of aircraft to their target. Silence enveloped each of the darkened craft as the glossy sheen of the dark grey paint schemes made them appear as nothing more than a blur to the average onlooker, of which there were many. Still evacuating from the East where the Beiarusians had been carving their way towards Heian, citizens of Gozen could only stop and look in awe as the crackle and thunder of eight military fighters howled down hair-pin canyons almost level with the roads within, pushing for the valley which held Gozen and its industrial plants and the surrounding wood.

<<All flights, this is Reaper, assume attack pattern on my mark>>

A moment of silence as the timer slowly reached its expiration, and then, finally, after a moment of tense silence the order came.

<<All flights, Mark.>>

One by one, the four lead aircraft of the squadron seemed to break high and within seconds they had their locks, nothing above 500 meters would be spared if Yvdenny had a say in it. A ruthless and relentless force, they had been one contributing factor to the completely unforeseen result of the Romnyan Revolutionary Conflict almost five years prior. Their leader, a man by the name of Toval, had earned his title and notoriety at the conclusion of the fighting; 'The Romnyan Reaper'. He, however, was not in the lead flights now pulling high to begin the attack pattern.

<<Callsign Druid, Flight two, engage.>>

<<Callsign Southpaw, Fox Three, Fox Three, Fox Three, Fox Three.>>

<<Callsign Fox, Fox Three, Fox Three, Fox Three, Fox Three. >>

<<Callsign Drummer, Fox Three, Fox Three, Fox Three, Fox Three.>>

Streams of missiles dropped from beneath the lead Fencer as it's Mirage counterparts rose to it's behest and let loose the fury of a dozen Active Radar-homing missiles. For a brief moment after the nearly twenty second long salvo began, it looked like it had reached it's end, but then again the comms opened up.

<<Callsign Druid, Flight two, solid track, engage.>>

<<Callsign Southpaw, Fox One, Fox Two.>>

<<Callsign Fox, Fox One, Fox Two. >>

<<Callsign Drummer, Fox One, Fox Two.>>

<<Callsign Druid to Scythe Actual, all targets engaged, reap what is sown.>>

All across the skies over Gozen, Beiarusian fighters, bombers, and attackers alike were in disarray as suddenly the vast majority found themselves being targeted from somewhere just to their north. Set to oppose resistance from the South, not one had been set defensively and while they'd seemed to have forced the Seianese pilots whom could separate and disengage into a supposed rout all at once, the reality of their perilous situation suddenly became clear as a clear crisp voice began to speak.

<<Color the skies red, none shall have their bread. A the sickle falls before the Scythe and the grain is tread out before the night. The Reaper comes, the Reaper comes.>>

It took less than twenty seconds for the first missiles launched to suddenly find their targets caught in the open, the early flaring and attempts at deploying countermeasures had ultimately failed as a Flanker suddenly found itself enveloped in a brilliant explosion of fire and smoke. Across the skies, a dozen dark clouds of smoke appeared as one by one each missile struck home and filled the skies with the wrecks of Beiarusian aircraft save for one of the unfortunate few allied pilots caught above the 500 meter safe zone. None were safe, and as more missiles continued to find their marks, only a skilled few managed to catch on to what had happened and were beginning just now to turn to engage, only to suddenly find themselves locked onto again.

<<What the hell? Where are they coming from, I can't see them!>>

<<I'm locked onto! Oh god! someone help, I can't->>

<<They're below us! Oh god, they're right belo->>

Surely enough, as the first flight had engaged, they'd slowed considerably, their brief delay in engaging having given the close-combat air-superiority specialists of Scythe the chance to rapidly close the 40-50 kilometers between them and the enemy. Now within range, their own fire would be equally withering, if not devastating. Flashes of fire continued to appear in the sky as silently firing rose four dark shapes of Mig-23's. Yuktobanian fighter aircraft turned interceptors, they had easily closed the distance required of them and pulling up into the enemy dogfighting, they quickly found themselves in a target rich environment, with plenty of missiles to go around. Not one word was spoken as each pilot simply rolled or turned in one way or another through what should have been Beiarusian secured airspace and loosed a missile that would arc out and slam into an aircraft of their choosing.

<<Reaper, splash three. Breaking to engage hostile assets over allied positions. Three and four, continue the engagement until Flight two arrives. I have business to attend to.>>

<<Dancer to Reaper, roger. Will hold the line, Redbeard, form up on me and don't get lost.>>

<<As if I'd be able to do that, a true Wellowian is at home in a fight! Let's scrap 'em!>>

Peeling off from the engagement as now Blackjack began to broadcast the all-clear signal, allied aircraft could now rise to above the 500 meter safe zone and reengage the disarrayed Beiarusian assets, or at least whatever remained as yet another several aircraft were stricken from the sky 'neath another salvo of missiles from the now rapidly approaching second flight of Scythe. The Grim Reaper would surely have his fill today courtesy of the man whom had borrowed his own title for his own.

<<Reaper to Callsign Shark, where ya at old friend, heard you're still hanging around here?>>

The sudden appearance of a flight of two Flankers attempting to drop in behind the Ace pilot suddenly found themselves maneuvering wildly in a vain attempt to avoid a hailstorm of 23mm cannon rounds. The wing of one suddenly being removed with near-surgical precision had it's pilot quickly ejecting before the craft could become his grave as the second was not so fortunate and quickly was engulfed in a shroud of flame and debris as an IR missile buried it's warhead into the rear section of the craft and shredded the Fulcrum down the back and center cleanly.

<<Svoboda to Reaper, six is clear, reengaging approaching bogeys high. Have fun.>>

The quickly retreating shape of Svoboda's Mig-23 gave proof that the wingman knew how to do his job and engage targets of opportunity. Rows of kill markers numbering 53 in all seemed to glisten like rounds of ammunition lined up along each wing, 26 to the right and 27 to the left, soon to be updated to a great many more given the opportunity. Now, the tide of the battle seemed to finally be changing as, for the first time since the start of the fighting two weeks ago, it looked like Seian would finally earn itself the victory it so desperately needed.

Gamechanger

Reaper

Samanov

SCYTHE

by **Parcia** » Thu Jul 07, 2016 12:21 am

1st LT Nichy Stoika
Battle of Gozan
On the ground

As he hit the ground, he felt a jolt of pain in his ankles. He rolled and managed to come out of with with out any injuries. Dropping his chute, he took out his small radio and clicked it on.

<<TO any friendlies this net, this is Scarecrow 1-5, I am in need of SAR on my location, unknown grid at the moment, last known was roughly 24 miles south of Gozan, over.>>

He hoped no less then friendly ears picked up the message and set about taking stock of his gear. He had one med-pack with basic first aid supplies, his combat knife, a small flashlight, signal mirror, canteen and water purification tablets, a weeks of K-rations, his .45 Colt side arm, three mags with one being tracer rounds for signaling pick up, a small one man tent, compass and basic area map, and his radio. He found a small clearing to make camp in and set about setting up his gear.

He sat down, his canteen boiling on a small fire when he saw the sudden flow of fighters and the sudden dropping of enemy fighters. Having turned his radio on, he listened in to the battle.

"Who the fuck is Silvertong?"

by **Tayner** » Thu Jul 07, 2016 1:34 am

Second Lieutenant Dan
RTB to Murai AFB
Battle of Gozen

<< This is callsign Blackjack on a special broadcast for callsign Silvertounge. The harvest moon seeks a bed of silver. >>

"What the fuck?" Gunny said as he heard the message on his comms.

"Fuck if I know." Joker replied.

What happened next, well, was a miracle, a message from God himself. Orders to hit the deck were given, and Gunny was more than happy to comply, dropping low enough to reach his hand out and touch the trees. He watched the radar, as over a dozen Beiarusian dots on the radar disappeared. A literal fuckton of bandits being simultaneously splashed. Gunny was nearly confused until he recalled something he heard on the comms.

Yvdenny Air Superiority Squadron, SCYTHE.

Yvdenny reinforcements, Dourisan reinforcements, it seemed like Siean was pretty popular right about now. The tides of the war were changed here at Gozen, and it wasn't the Dourisan 101st that got to claim the fame, it was Scythe. Gunny looked down at his wrist and felt the bracelet Mayu gave him, and kissed it. It was one hell of a good luck charm. That little bracelet would never leave his wrist again, he'd be buried with it. I'll be damned if they cremate me. Or if they vaporize me over Siean. Gunny thought to himself.

The all clear was given and Gunny pulled the Viking up. The remaining distance to Murai AFB would be a short flight. As soon as he got close to the base, he radioed in to ATC.

<< ATC, this is Spider zero-three, returning to base on Winchester munitions. Requesting permission to land. Over. >>

<< Spider zero-three, you are clear to land on runway two. Over. >>

<< Thank you ATC. Over. >>

Gunny put the landing gear down, and landed on the tarmac. He taxied the Massive S-3 Viking into it's current home, a hangar in Murai. After the two pilots exited the relatively undamaged aircraft, the crew chief approached them.

"So?" The old man asked.

"I'd expect to be back in Ansan by the end of the week." Dan said, before giving a cheer, with the entire crew joining in.

"What happened?" The chief asked next.

"We were heavily outnumbered and outgunned when a Yvdenny Air Superiority Squadron, Scythe, I think it was, came in and bailed us out. You should've seen it, over a dozen Beiarusian aircraft going up in smoke in a matter of seconds. I was on Winchester ammo and had to come back, but the battle is pretty much over, and for the first time in forever, we won." The pilot spoke, telling the story.

"How many of Morena were lost?" The old enlisted crew chief asked as a follow up question.

"Six or seven of our aircraft went down, but I don't know how many pilots were killed." Joker replied to the man's question. "One pilot, Panther, saved our hides, but..." Joker said, his voice trailing off.

"A Su-27 tore her up soon after. She didn't make it." Dan finished.

"Aye. We shouldn't mourn our fallen pilot's death. We should be grateful that they ever lived." The crew chief spoke, the words of wisdom ringing throughout the hangar. "Well, I guess you won't be going back out, do we should get to fixin' her up." The man said, switching gears.

"Yeah, and do a good job at it too. I'm thinking of a change in gears." Dan said. "Might be trading in the old Viking soon. Don't want the dealer to try to lower the trade in value because she's 'too banged up.' A few patches and a fresh coat of paint and she'll look like she was never Swiss cheesed multiple times in the first place." Dan finished.

"Got it. She'll look like you never flew her in no time." The chief said, throwing a playful insult at the two pilots. "At least we don't have to collect insurance this time." He continued on before giving the crew orders, and getting the job started. Dan and Joker just sat in the small office in the hangar, waiting to be summoned for the debriefing. Dan found his way into the mini fridge, and retrieved two Colas of Osean origin for the two pilots to drink.

by **Relikai** » Thu Jul 07, 2016 1:53 am

Second Lieutenants Shimazaki Haruna 'Shinden', Kanzaki Yuria 'Reppu'
Battle of Gozen

They were too busy to keep track of the turn of events above the Tornado, Shinden maneuvering against the Faceplate as they dived to the ground. While the Faceplate had the advantage of duking with the Tornado in the air, in a restricted space where altitude was limited, the delta-winged plane losing it's ability to climb towards the Sun. The bigger Tornado now began to chase the Faceplate, Shinden trying to gain some distance to fire off a missile while the Beiarusian maneuvered beautifully to stick to the Tornado, trying to force Shinden to use what little ammunition she has in her multirole.

"Dammit, this..." Shinden cursed, just before she decided to throw everything into a single attack. The Tornado shot forth, just as the Faceplate weaved to the side, distance increasing between the two as Shinden shot the other way. Realising his mistake, the Faceplate turned, but with it's wings swept and heavier airframe, the Tornado banked in the air, it's nose pointed directly towards the little fighter. Her eyes were sharp and focused, Reppu focusing all her energies on achieving this one shot.

900 meters, the Tornado pointed itself at the Faceplate, the beeping coming into Reppu's ear.

800 meters, the Faceplate roared on, the beeping continued in the Tornado, the Sidewinder struggling to achieve a lock.

700 meters, a hundred more meters to get into the safety of minimum distance, the Tornado would be at the mercy of the Faceplate's formidable cannons.

600 met-

Shinden & Reppu: << Scarecrow Three, Fox Two. >>

Coolant rushed into the infrared beacon of the seeker head, the AIM-9 Sidewinder, the last missile of the Shinden's Tornado, locking onto the incoming fighter. As if on instinct, the button was pushed as the missile leapt out of the fuselage, streaking towards the Faceplate at speed, striking it directly on the fuselage as the prototype was sheared into half, the pilot ejecting before parachuting towards the ground. Wreckage flew and some struck the Tornado, but the Usean plane held strong, with Reppu thinking of a new paint job on the aircraft.

Shinden: << Splash one Faceplate! >>

She was near euphoric, Shinden taking out the hardest enemy she faced so far. There was plenty of help from Dragon and Praeses tho, Shinden making a note to thank him afterwards.

There was still the Fargo to deal with.

Takahashi Mayu
Murai Air Base

The Viking landed, taxiing into a hangar as a single individual, dressed in a pink uniform and holding onto her nurse cap ran towards the hangar. Mayu had been following the radio, and sensing that the Viking was the first to land, feared the worst. She has little to no knowledge on the military matters of war, but Mayu spent enough time reading on military reports and listening to war stories that the first planes to arrive often meant that it was damaged, while those who were late often never returned to the base.

"Dan!" Mayu cried as she burst through the door, catching sight of the man who confessed to her. Mayu expression changed from worry to relief as she dashed over, engulfing Dan in a hug.

"I was worried... we kept hearing about the battle... it did not sound good. I am glad... that you are okay." She whispered, burying her face into the hollow of Dan's shoulder.

by **Tayner** » Thu Jul 07, 2016 2:12 am

Relikai wrote:"I was worried... we kept hearing about the battle... it did not sound good. I am glad... that you are okay." She whispered, burying her face into the hollow of Dan's shoulder.

Second Lieutenant Dan
Murai Airforce Base
Gunny

Mayu nearly broke down the door as she entered the office. Dan noticed she was relieved to see him. She has the right to be. He thought, remembering that usually the first aircraft to land are the worst off. Soon however Dash would land to correct the statistical anomaly. He returned her hug, embracing her and holding her as if he had been away for years. "I'm safe. I've only come back so soon because I've run out of weapons. The battle is going well. When I left reinforcements had arrived." He said, reassuring her that the battle was going well.

Joker just spun around in his swiveled chair in the background, letting his friend have a moment with his lady friend. The crew chief was about to enter the office to consult Dan on the Viking, but saw him embracing Mayu and decided to come back later. The two seemed to have a few moments of serenity in the hangar, with everyone deciding not to interrupt the couple's embrace.

by **Anowa** » Thu Jul 07, 2016 10:23 am

<<Kokkuri get everyone below 500 meters! NOW! All Morena Callsigns! Break engagements and drop for the deck! Go! Go! Go!>>

Normally Tombstone would tell whoever it was to pound shit, but the fact that it was Pearsohn, and the man was all but screaming for Morena to dive, meant that he knew the shitstomr that was probably gonna come. So he wrenched the Phantom into a roll and dove at nearly ninety degrees.

The altimeter began to fall quickly, at around 900 feet Tombstone began to even out.

Fantasy called out, "Craft on our twelve, not friendly." Tombstone figured that some of the more observant Beiarusian pilots would've clued in that all of Morena had made a beeline to the deck. Unfortunately Tombstone was right, so as the craft above got riddled with an array of missiles. This one was in the clear to come up underneath any rising craft, so Tombstone decided to block him from doing so.

Rolling to the left, Tombstone lurched the throttle forward, and accelerated in a wide circle towards the Fulcrum, Fantasy quipped in from the back, "Jason he's speeding up to engage."

Jason sighed, "Well, shit."

Jason turned back into his path and tried to rather shittily evade the incoming craft, but to no avail. The incoming missile alarm sounded, and he dumped countermeasures. before pulling to the side, not trusting whatever caused them to dive below 500 to be done their little business. The mild boom proved the mass of flares worked.

"Jason he's- Drop the tank now!"

Tombstone, more on autopilot than any reasonable mind set, followed the frantic cry, only to question his action the moment after it happened. However, whatever Holly had planned seemed to have worked. The Phantom's singular drop tank sailed backwards, directly into the path of the close pursuing Fulcrum, the pilot barely had time to react as contact was made with the center of his craft. The fuel tank veritably exploded, causing quite the bit of structural damage to the Yuke made craft, a moment later the fuel reached the craft's exhaust and detonated into an impromptu FAEB, all but ruining the craft. The explosion must've done something to the Beiarusian's radio, as he started to broadcast on the IDF.

<<[Was that a fucking drop tank!? None of my controls are responding! What the fuck!?]>>

Holly was smiling beneath her oxygen mask, due to the man's frantic and frustrated cries, <<Hangman-2, splash one Fulcrum.>>

Tombstone -who happened to speak a few languages from across the globe- was utterly flabberghasted, "D-Do we get paid for that?"

Holly shrugged looking back at the radar screen, "I certainly fucking hope so."

Kills
Hangman-2 (Tombstone, Fantasy)
Gozen Zone C
Tank x4
AA x1
Vehicle x5
Gozen Zone D
SAM x3
Gozen Air
F3 (Su-37) x1
F3 (Fulcrum) x1

by **Parcia** » Thu Jul 07, 2016 10:28 am

Nicky had packed up camp, disposing of the fire before he left. As he strolled through the Forrest it brought back memories of his youth, playing and climbing through the abundant evergreens and fir trees of his home land. He longed for it, that was the only downside of all of this, what that he missed Estovakia, even with snobby neighbors like Emmeria (wink wink) it was a nice place to live.

What kept catching his eye though, was no beauty of nature, it was the jagged pieces of aircraft. Flankers, Fishspots, faceplates in smoldering pieces scattered all along the Forrest floor. As he walked, he started to see more and more, even coming across the tail of a wrecked F-16, it didn't have Morena's symbol, but it was friendly enough. This stopped Nicholas, perhaps the harsh reality of this war had finally hit him. This conjured a vortex of emotions he didn't think he would be feeling. Guilt, sorrow, anger, and even sadness.

He went down on his knees and put his hands together. "Otche nash na nebesakh , da svyatitsya imya Tvoye . Priidet Tsarstviye Tvoye , da budet volya Tvoya na zemle, kak na nebe . Dayte nam na sey den' khleb nash nasushchnyy i prosti nam dolgi nashi, kak i my proshchayem dolzhnikam nashim . I ne vvedi nas v iskusheniye, no izbav' nas ot lukavogo " as the prayer slipped from his lips, images of his whole family in the orthodox church they attended came flashing back. His mother in her dress, one of two she owned, the other being her wedding dress. His father, lacking real formal wear, had chosen to wear his military dress uniform. Nicky him self had to scrounge for a full week in order to pay for the almost too big suit that he wore.

The other children made fun of him, for seemingly hoarding his well earned money just for a Sunday suit, but he held it close to his heart, it was his first nice thing. His first real possession that he had earned and he was damned if he let them get him down for it.

That changed after a certain day. the day marked only be his mother answering the door and almost immediately braking down and crying. With his mother rather disposed off, Nicky him self talked to the two men, who were military officers in their own dress uniforms. They spoke to him in a soft tone, obliviously trying to soften the impact what they were about to say. this pissed him off even more, to the point that Nicky quiet literally told them to either tell him what they had to say, or to fuck off for making his mother cry like that.

They told him alright. A sentence that would change his life for ever.

He snapped back to reality as he heard the distinctive blades of a helicopter approaching overhead. Saying Amen and getting up, Nicky drew the pistol and walked to the edge of a clearing before watching the chopper circle over. He recognized it as a UH-60 he had seen parked along Morena before he took off. Walking out and loading the tracer mag, he fired off three shots. It would immediately turn towards him.

At least his cab was here.

As he rode the black hawk back to the ABF, he noticed something off to the chopper's left. One of Morena's had just managed to take out a Flanker on its tail...by dropping a drop tank on it. "What the literal fuck just happened."

by **Ubaria** » Thu Jul 07, 2016 2:37 pm

Captain Noel 'Aguila' Silva
Above Gozan, Seian

Silvertounge? Reaper? Just what in the fuck was going on? Choppy broadcasts shot across most of the friendly radio channels, all asking the same question, who in the hell were these guys? Noel was soon forced to abandon his chase on the Flanker at the behest of Praeses who rather urgently advised everyone to dive for the deck or risk becoming fodder in the wake of what was to come next. The clusters of silhouetted aircraft that mottled the Gozan skies announced their presence in a display of pure and utter calculated carnage, an awe inspiring sight, the lead aircraft spewed forth indiscriminate destruction from its underbelly like dragon's fire from its maw, dozens of missiles twisted through the air, the tendril like contrails etched themselves into the skies above and made their way to the hapless Beiarusian aircraft one by one, they all fell the same way, screaming and burning into the dirt.

<< La Santa mierda. Anyone else seeing this? >>

It soon became a game of avoiding falling wreckages as much as it was avoiding the ground below, much to the surprise of Noel who was almost taken out by the spiraling wreckage of a Flogger that missed the starboard wing by mere meters. Eventually the missiles had claimed all they could, the Beiarusian air power had utterly been shattered by the display of their unknown adversary and what remained were hopelessly outmatched, but retreat they would not and would rather stand here and fall, including Yeoman who had survived the attack and also had managed to writhe free of Aguila's grasp, he desperately sought out the Flanker among the mess of smoke and dust and soon spotted the tell tale twin exhausts through the mess, a snappy manauver later and the Phantom was again bearing down towards its adversary.

"You're mine, asshole."

Noel was intent on claiming Yeoman before the newcomers did, the mixed bag of attackers and interceptors were already getting stuck into the dazed enemy with earnest, whoever they were, it was lucky that they were on friendly terms, fornow. Again the Flanker spotted the encroaching Osean craft and broke off high, using its superior rate of climb as a crutch against its pursuer, knowing that the older Phantom would have a harder time keeping up the pace in a close quarters dogfight, the odds were ultimately tipped in the superior Yuktobanian craft's favor, built for a new era of aerial warfare, its speed and hyper-maneuverability gave it the edge over the older and heavier piece of Osean kit. The fight was carried away from the treetops and up into the air, almost vertically the two planes climbed until Noel was forced to level the Phantom off to prevent a stall, the Flanker took this as an opportunity to turn the tables and performed a tight backwards loop to put it on the Phantoms rear.

"Oh you cun-" *MISSILE LOCK*

A missile had been detected, rather than waste precious gun rounds, the Flanker had opted for a close range Radar guided missile for an assured kill, Noel could see the offending orange glow of the rocket motor which instantly meant that it was way too close for comfort, there was no way that the Phantom had enough speed after its climb to ensure a successful avoidance maneuver could be executed, back down was the only option if he wanted to gain energy quickly.

<< Yeoman Lead to Yeoman Flight? Anybody still up. Yeoman Flight respond!....Ah Fuck >>

It seemed that most of the remainder of Yeoman flight had been destroyed or were still embroiled in the post chaos battlescape, either way there was no assistance coming and so the flight leader and distinguished Ace had no choice but to pursue the attack alone, with his first missile defeated he quickly switched to guns.

<< Stay still. Lets see you wriggle out of this. >>

The crackle of cannonfire erupted from somewhere behind the Phantom, not that Noel could see that far behind him, though the tell tale string of tracers passing both starboard and port gave him half an idea. Thankfully the Flanker didn't possess nearly enough cannon rounds for an extended engagement and the pilot had to budget what he had, leaving quite a bit of room for maneuvering on the Phantoms side of things, but still not enough to throw the maneuverable Sukhoi off his back, for that he would require some clever flying on Noel's part. The terrain surrounding Gozan wasn't anywhere near the scale of the Songnisan Highlands, the mountains there had provided considerably cover for Fighters to duck in and out of, Gozan lacked such features leaving a trench run out of the question, Noel was all out of options until another divine intervention on behalf of the Seianese Army.

"Target sighted. Bearing Two Zero Two, adjusting for elevation....Firing.

Noel thought that the tracers were heading his way until they passed alarmingly close-by and behind him, the Seianese SPAAG had seen the Flanker and opted to fired off a stream of rounds its way, forcing the Flanker to make a last second turn to avoid becoming scrap, allowing Aguila to once again assume the attacking position, hopefully for the final time.

<< Are you being serious? Where did the little bastard go? >>

In the confusion, Noel had pulled the Phantom a full 180 degrees in a shallow bank to give enough time to line up the guns boresight, with 1000 rounds of ammunition just waiting to be expended, he clutched the trigger. The whole craft shook when the Vulcan cannon roared to life, spewing hot lead in a steady arc towards the Flanker who had lost speed due to its sudden maneuvers, it was hard to keep the Phantom aligned with its erratic maneuvering but the sheer volume of cannon fire managed to catch the fleeing plane several times, once on the starboard wing, several times on the underside of the fusulage and once in the leftmost exhaust nozzle, not enough to destroy the craft but an unhealthy black smoke belched from the damage thrust nozzle along with a few pieces of broken metal that clanged harmlessly against the Phantoms hull. The smoke was so thick that it couldn't be seen through and so the gun tracking solution was lost, with it Yeoman who had pumped flares and climbed to a higher altitude, knowing that any more fighting would put unnecessary strain on his damaged aircraft.

<< This is Yeoman Lead, i've sustained multiple hits. I'm pulling out of the AO >>

Yeoman wasn't the only one retreating, knowing that the battle was lost, the Beiarusians scattered eastward and away from Gozan with their metaphorical tails between their legs. It had been a hard fought victory, for Morena and importantly, a resounding strategical victory for the Seianese.

by **SaintB** » Thu Jul 07, 2016 5:15 pm

Shark
Battle of Gozen

<<Kokkuri this is Hangman-1. I'm looking for the location of a hostile CF-105 Arrow. Its probably the only one, do you have one on your scopes?>>

<<Roger Hangman-1 we have the Arrow. 35 kilometers south of Gozen entering the AO from the west accompanied by a quartet of MiG-25's.>>

<<Thank you Kokkuri.>>

Shark switched frequencies to his flight and hailed Tombstone, <<Shark for Tombstone. I've got something I gotta do. I'm exiting the furball, King will cover you.>>

The lone grey Tigershark broke away from the large knot of embattled fighter jets to head on an intercept course for its next target, the likely heavily modified CF-105 MkII of Nixie, <<What do you say Rachel, just you and me nose to nose? Everyone in Warhound always wondered which of us all was the best and we can settle it between the two of us.>>

<<Nøkken: You're on Garret. This is Nøkken, I need some space, fall back and await further orders.>>

Nøkken's escort fell back and turned away to set up a holding pattern and wait for the mercenary to do whatever crazy thing it was she was doing. Meanwhile Shark was rushing toward the Arrow and trying to close the gap between them as quickly as possible. He didn't know how many weapons she had left, only that it would be an entire loadout of missiles because the Arrow had no guns, and as they were most likely long range she would have a distinct advantage unless Shark could control the fight by closing the distance on the interceptor. Nøkken wasn't going to let that happen and as soon as he was within range the first of her missiles was fired, <<Nøkken: I hope you like this demonstration of the newest beyond visual range missile. Fox 3.>>

The AIM-120 AMRAAM was the newest anti air missile of the Osean Federation - long ranged and self guided it was heading for Garret's Tigershark twice as fast as his aircraft could move under maximum conditions. If not for the contrail it left behind it it would have been impossible for Shark to see, but his sensors started to warn im of an incoming missile. He had seen the AMRAAM when they were still being developed back in 1982, watching a demonstration as an F/A-18 hornet fired two simultaneously at a pair of drones, one missed but the other tracked its target and destroyed it pretty handily. Again only a year ago he saw the finished product demonstrated in Levant and had heard a technical briefing. The weapon used data given to it from the firing aircraft until it reached visual range and then homed in on the target using its own built in RADAR and sensors once it closed to within five kilometers or so.

He prepped himself, watching the white plume appear on the horizon with his finger hovering over the chaff dispenser, feet ready to push the pedals and his right hand firmly holding the control stick. Waiting for what felt like eternity he saw the white trail of smoke curve toward him as the missile began its final approach toward his fighter and flew into action as fast as his reflexes allowed, pumping chaff and rolling to the right as he dropped the nose down to bleed off some altitude and the ploy worked. At the range he was being fired at the trashed missile had no chance to come back around on him, it flamed out shortly after the cloud of chaff confused its RADAR and detonated itself.

<<That was fun. Got another? I could do that all day Rachel.>> he taunted her, hoping to rattle the other pilot a little bit, there was still about 55 klicks between them and he needed whatever advantage he could get before he closed within range of his only sidewinder.

<<Nøkken: My pleasure.>>

The missile lock warning sounded again this one was from half the distance of the first and if he didn't evade properly it could turn on him and make another attempt. He'd need to evade the missile and detection by Nixie this time. Given the kill rate of the missiles she was firing his chances didn't seem so good the second time around. He drifted back upward seemingly lazily and kept his eyes open wide, staring into the clear blue sky for signs of the incoming munition and the aircraft that fired it at him and when he saw it he jerked his aircraft into action, heading right for the missile and then nosing down hard into an almost straight vertical dive. After descending more than 3,000 feet he pumped chaff ten pulled out of his nosedive and struggled to maintain the stability and consciousness as the fighter shook and jerked from the sudden changes in altitude and direction but he had succeeded, he was no longer a target for the missile nor the Arrow.

<<Nøkken: I lost him! Where did you go Garret?>>

<>

The last remaining sidewinder was armed and his old comrade at arms was in his sights, all he needed now was a solid lock...

<<Enemy-A: He's coming at you from 3 o'clock low mercenary. Let us finish him off now, you've had your fun.>>

<<Nøkken: No! He's all mine, you stay out of this!>>

<<That was not very sporting of your Berusian friends Nixie.>> he chided her as she maneuvered away from him with a Split S which terminated in a defensive spiral.

At least now the advantage in this fight was his as long as he could stay behind her. He wondered if she was going to sick her dogs on him now, there would be nothing he could do if they came for him five to one; nobody was that good. To her credit she didn't tag them in but the interceptor pilots had seen enough and ignored the ace.

<<Enemy-A: Just kill that Tigershark. Ignore the merc.>>

"Shit..." the famous last words of one Major Garret "Shark" Jones would be a single expletive as he embraced his fate.

For some reason his thoughts turned toward Yuria in his last moments... and so did his last words... "Yuria... I'm sorry..."

Kassaran wrote:<<Callsign Silvertongue... Harvest moon shines bright upon you, the wolf sends his greetings and his pack. Echo-Tango-Alpha is three-zed Sierra. Requesting all friendly callsigns to break engagements and push for deck. Yvdenny Air Superiority Squadron, SCYTHE, on station.>>

<<Kokkuri get everyone below 500 meters! NOW! All Morena Callsigns! Break engagements and drop for the deck! Go! Go! Go!>>

<<This is Callsign Blackjack to all friendly callsigns, Harvest has begun.>>

Without even thinking Shark obeyed, heading for the deck, well below 500 meters before he even realized what was happening, <<Wait a minute why are we disengaging? What the hell is...>>

Another hellstorm of missiles came into the AO, this one aimed at the Berusians. As the enemy air force was decimated by silver streaks from the sky Shark was almost in awe by the display of deadly precision. <<Who are these guys?>>

He didn't have a chance to hear an answer as a missile lock was suddenly on him <<Nøkken: You knew this was going to happen didn't you! Trying to kill me through treachery Jones? I thought you were better than that!>>

That didn't turn out so well... at least her squadron of MiGs was now too destroyed or disorganized to aid her or he was certain she'd call them in now. <<That wasn't me, I have no idea who those guys are!>>

Shark was maneuvering frantically, out of chaff, out of any kind of plan, and not expecting a third AMRAAM all he could do was hope that his low altitude and wild flying would be enough to save him. When the missile streaked passed him only meters of the starboard side and exploded in a field below did he even remember to breath.

<<That's gotta be the last one Rachel. You're mine now!>>

She was trying her best to flee, pushing the Arrow to its maximum speed away from Garret's direction but the Tigershark was the faster of the two and once the Arrow peaked in velocity Shark started gaining. The missile was armed, the growl of the seeker head filled his ears as he prepared to launch, <<You might as well eject now, this fight is over. Fox 2!>>

The missile launched off of the left wing rail and fell behind him for a few seconds before rushing passed and flying in a perfectly straight line until it began to spiral and then fall from the sky. It didn't track!

<<Nøkken: It looks like that hand me down Sianese weapon of yours was a dud Shark!>> she was almost laughing, probably from joy at being alive as much as pure amusement, <>

<>

<<Nøkken: I don't expect any.>>

Shark started to return to the rest of Morena Squadron. The battle was all but over now and the old man was feeling tired after his jousting match with the Arrow Pilot and his near death experience.

Kassaran wrote:<<Reaper to Callsign Shark, where ya at old friend, heard you're still hanging around here?>>

<<Reaper? What the hell is going on here? Why all the weird poetry and secret signals? You know what... nevermind. Its good to hear and old voice that's on my side today. You are on my side right?>>

He needed to get back to base, he needed a nap, needed a shower, and needed to think...

by **Kassaran** » Thu Jul 07, 2016 6:21 pm

Silvertongue
Battle of Gozen

<<Come on you piece of shit... come on! Shinden, nice kill, little bit of help would be nice...right... about... now!>>

He'd been furiously slamming the control yoke from side to side and was almost certain he'd overstressed the airframe of his current craft by now, respectively too was the enemy Ace pilot maneuvering. He'd watched as the Fargo had continually attempted to roll over and beneath him, skimming across the trees and the canopy of the jungle so low that only Pearsohn's trained eyes were able to keep watch as the Ace duelled him to what was certain to be a bitter end. Already once before the pilot in the Fargo had almost lead him to his death, but so too could that be said of him in regards to the Mig's pilot.

"C'mon you piece of shit, just a bit more...."

Not certain whether or not he was talking more now to the now creaking and groaning airframe of his Mirage III as the flat scissors turned into again something of a rolling scissors, a quick glance from the Fargo's silhouette now passing above him in the turn to his instruments showed that Shinden had scored yet another kill. Sure enough, he'd been able to call on her at the right time as he wheeled hard port and pushed for the envelope of the Fargo's gun range. If he could turn around and force the Fargo into a two-way engagement, the pilot would be out of friends and out of luck. He could only hope that Haruna and Yuria would push the advantage.

Reaper
Battle of Gozen

<<Reaper? What the hell is going on here? Why all the weird poetry and secret signals? You know what... nevermind. Its good to hear and old voice that's on my side today. You are on my side right?>>

<<You're flyin' Seianese colors and still belong to Morena, correct? If so, you're my friend and I am yours... yet again. Get me a sitrep on your squadron and your plane and we'll figure out what to do from there, I'll catch up with you in the merge in ten seconds. Over.>>

The sight of the darkened paint scheme of Toval's Flogger could perhaps be seen growing from a small speck over the woods and framed against a backdrop of smoke trails lazily curling up into the sky. Flying at just above a few hundred meters in altitude over the deck, the slight turns and adjustments made down here alongside the thicker atmosphere were more directly translated into the maneuvers of the craft he was flying. It didn't take long, as he'd said before, for him to cover the distance he'd need to though as the hurtling shape of his Flogger, still with wings folded back against itself, quickly pushed over Garret's Tigershark and took up a protective stance between the ailing fighter and whatever other enemies could possibly push up on them.

Rolling back in, the fighter slowly closed back in on Garret's tail until finally the fighter had approached and matched the Tigershark's own speed. Wing's spread, the glossy belly of the Flogger almost seemed to reflect the light bouncing up off of the trees and terrain below while the sun's own light upon the backs of the wings failed to commit to any reflection. There, though, beneath the canopy of the craft was the quite visible emblem of Reaper's own design, the shattered skull, and lining the entire port side were the kill markers, represented by intricately hand-crafted stencils of 23mm cannon shells. From 50 meters away it's look like a strangely banded line, but from up close it became apparent that this was in fact the total kill count of the man in the Flogger, the one known as the 'Romnyan Reaper'.

Druid
Battle of Gozen
The only one in the squadron that wasn't a designated fighter, Druid had long since been a part of Reaper's squadron, but he never flew alongside the man, no one did. The thought of everyone else before and after Samanov whom had and how they'd died was enough to render Samanov the only man allowed that honor. No, instead Druid was content to be exactly who he was and to do what he was best at, destroying the few targets on the ground that the cannons from the other craft couldn't. Watching as the orange-red glow of the Mirage 2000's now passed him by as they too now rushed headlong into the battle now slowly reaching it's end, Druid set to work finishing the job the Seianese had started.

All across Gozen, dozens of vehicles if not hundreds were burning, set aflame by the jet fuel and oil stores and explosives in the weapons of the battle used. Slowly picking their way cautiously down a street, attempting their tentative retreat as the sky became less and less a friendly place for them was the out-of-place Beiarusian team that was responsible for having spearheaded the charge thus far. They weren't many, and from the backseat of the craft his WSO, a conscript given that his own had been killed in an accident not too long before this mission was reporting the approximate distances and directions. It was enough.

"Umm, Lieutenant, I have six contacts onscreen I believe, a tank and two APCs, I've also got three vehicles following behind. No idea what they are though. Looks like they're trying to sneak away to the East. They're about ten klicks out."

"Understood, arm the bombs, both of them and set to drop in front and behind the formation. Let's try to box them in, then we'll hit them from above with the cannon."

"Negative, the Tank is in the middle of the formation. Looks like they've got a way through and a way out if we try that."

Gritting his teeth, Druid let his head fall back upon the headrest for a moment as he considered the possibilities, and then just settled it within himself. They had five kilometers to go now and the sound of the two massive Yuktobanian engines pushing the striker along at a decent pace gave him hope that what would come next would be easy.

"Arm both bombs, aim for the front and center positions in the convoy. We'll strafe the remaining vehicles as it suits us. Leave the infantry for the Seianese to pick up. We're just here to knock their shit out of action. Got it?"

"Yessir."

A second passed as the formation of incoming ground targets got closer and soon enough the HUD began to display the reticule for the bomb release as the rapidly diminishing circle. It was an easy enough way to calculate distance and watching it closely as the small city of Gozen continued to whip by beneath, suddenly the circle reached the halfway mark and he slammed open the weapon's release.

<<Callsign Druid, bombs times two.>>

On the street, the tank having seen the incoming threat had quickly mashed into reverse, but it wasn't enough as the 1,000 pound bomb slammed right into the ground just in front and nearly kicked the tank onto its end with the sheer destructive force of the high-explosive blast. Inside the tank the crew was instantly killed by the sudden burst of energy and lifting veritably up into the air by a third or so of a meter as it was carried back on the shockwave, the small transport right behind it found itself slamming into the back of the tank before being pushed to a stop. The impact alone killed the driver and the passenger immediately while the two APCs in the front had attempted to speed up. The forward one had managed to just make it clear of the bomb's enormous kill radius, but the PT-76's tracks were quickly shorn from their place and the lead vehicle found itself trundling suddenly to the left, carried on by its own momentum and unable to come to a quick enough stop as it barrelled through a storefront and keeled over onto it's side. The '76 behind it though wasn't so lucky as the bomb struck it clean and center.

While perhaps a tank could withstand the blast structurally of a bomb landing close, the crew had still been fucked which meant that the story of what happened to the crew of this particular PT-76, alongside those within wasn't any prettier. It was fortunately quick and relatively painless, not much can be felt when your nerves have been instantly incinerated at the same time as your brain is turned to something resembling a small slice of potato crisp and then subsequently having that smashed into ash and scattered across the three or so city blocks the thousand pound bombs from the Fencer now had levelled. In the back of the convoy, the two vehicles which hadn't been directly targeted had managed to swerve hard and only one had rolled onto it's back. Troops, running for their lives as they looked up into the air at the sinister outline of the Fencer coming back around, scattered into the surrounding buildings, promising themselves and their gods that they'd surrender immediately to the Seianese if they'd just be spared their lives this time around.

The rearmost transport however was perhaps the less fortunate of the two in spite of having survived without a scratch. It'd never been in danger from the two thousand pounds of ordnance being dropped anyways... no, it had a much worse fate in store. throwing the vehicle into reverse as the driver quickly attempted to back the vehicle into the shelter of a nearby exposed garage, it suddenly became apparent that that was not going to stop the circling bird of prey overhead from getting its meal and struggling to get out of the vehicle, only two of the members of the squad that had been in the back managed to get clear before the strafing run began and ripped right through and past the light transport. Ammunition and fuel burst into flame and the bodies of the soldiers unable to get clear were either shredded by shrapnel, burned by the flames, broken by the shockwave, or suffered from a mixture of all three unfortunate happenings.

<<Druid, calling in six ground kills, one tank and two apc's, Yuktobanian PT-76's judging from the wrecks, not too sure though. Three ground transports were also engaged and destroyed, returning to Close Air Support flight plan.>>

by **SaintB** » Thu Jul 07, 2016 7:43 pm

Kassaran wrote:<<You're flyin' Seianese colors and still belong to Morena, correct? If so, you're my friend and I am yours... yet again. Get me a sitrep on your squadron and your plane and we'll figure out what to do from there, I'll catch up with you in the merge in ten seconds. Over.>>

The sight of the darkened paint scheme of Toval's Flogger could perhaps be seen growing from a small speck over the woods and framed against a backdrop of smoke trails lazily curling up into the sky. Flying at just above a few hundred meters in altitude over the deck, the slight turns and adjustments made down here alongside the thicker atmosphere were more directly translated into the maneuvers of the craft he was flying. It didn't take long, as he'd said before, for him to cover the distance he'd need to though as the hurtling shape of his Flogger, still with wings folded back against itself, quickly pushed over Garret's Tigershark and took up a protective stance between the ailing fighter and whatever other enemies could possibly push up on them.

Rolling back in, the fighter slowly closed back in on Garret's tail until finally the fighter had approached and matched the Tigershark's own speed. Wing's spread, the glossy belly of the Flogger almost seemed to reflect the light bouncing up off of the trees and terrain below while the sun's own light upon the backs of the wings failed to commit to any reflection. There, though, beneath the canopy of the craft was the quite visible emblem of Reaper's own design, the shattered skull, and lining the entire port side were the kill markers, represented by intricately hand-crafted stencils of 23mm cannon shells. From 50 meters away it's look like a strangely banded line, but from up close it became apparent that this was in fact the total kill count of the man in the Flogger, the one known as the 'Romnyan Reaper'.

Shark's own fighter sported 27 counters though he had been credited with more he only counted the ones he confirmed and he had spent much of the latter half of the South Sotoan War grounded with broken leg. Regardless, Executive Officer of the Hounds of Heaven as they became known as was at least as good on a resume as 53 areal victories. <<All I've got left in this thing is somewhere around 400 20 mike shells and I'm damn near bingo fuel. I'll call up my flight once I get within 40 klicks of Gozen.>>

Other than being essentially disarmed and getting dangerously low on fuel the fighter seemed to be in fine condition, no structural damage he could find or anything along those lines, <<Looks like you've kept busy since So-So.>> he said in reference to all of counters emblazoned on the Flogger.

by **Kassaran** » Thu Jul 07, 2016 7:55 pm

Reaper

<<Looks like you've kept busy since So-So.>>

Reaper smiled, even after all these years he'd not forgotten that the man flying beside him had been one of the top pilots in the Hounds all those years ago. It was nice though to be paid the compliment and hardly one to turn away such praise, Victor decided to accept it. From the sounds of things, Shark had also been kept rather busy, working over the break of about five or so years since Verusa, and his presence here was no small indicator that perhaps this was the right place for Toval to be. checking on his own fuel situation, his grin behind the oxygen mask he wore faltered slightly as he noted the indicator showing zero. Then he relaxed as he tapped on the glass and sure enough the indicator slipped back up to where it belonged. Still low on fuel as the cross-continent sprint had been taxing on everyone in Scythe, he had more than enough to make it back home.

<<The Yukes were starting to get greedy and Svoboda seemed to be the only man who could fly alongside me. We took the contract straight out after the hostilities ended for the most part and joined up with Yvdenny private military company in Romny. Been busy ever since. Looks like you've just started to get busy here recently. What's been happening? Got called in by a client of ours and personally an old friend of mine, but when I heard you and another member of your squadron was here, I felt like I had been left out of some sort of party.>>

by **Relikai** » Thu Jul 07, 2016 8:05 pm

Second Lieutenants Shimazaki Haruna 'Shinden', Kanzaki Yuria 'Reppu'
Battle of Gozen

The Tornado kept up with the Fargo, streaking past the old plane as it duked out with the Mirage. With the multirole entering the fray, the mercenaries seemed to gain the advantage on the Fargo, tracers now coming from the Usean planes as they battled out, Shinden now on the Fargo's tail as it kept below five hundred feet with intense precision.

Shinden: << Scarecrow Three, guns, guns, guns! >>

The clattering of the cannon sent tracers towards the Fargo, only for it to do another impossible dive, forcing Shinden to invert her plane and follow it's maneuver, while the Mirage continued to play it's part in the duel. The experienced merc was the main player, Shinden and Reppu content to play second fiddle against an enemy their plane was not designed to battle on it's home ground which was a close range engagement. Another burst of cannon rounds ricocheted off the Fargo, although it seemed to spook the Ace a little.

Shinden: << Superficial damage, guns! >>

The final spurt of fire cut across the Fargo, forcing it away once more. That was Shinden's last burst of cannon fire, but the most vital as the Fargo was now of sufficient distance from the Mirage, Shinden successfully setting Praeses for a kill-shot.

"Come on old man..."

by **SaintB** » Thu Jul 07, 2016 8:19 pm

Kassaran wrote:Reaper

<<Looks like you've kept busy since So-So.>>

Reaper smiled, even after all these years he'd not forgotten that the man flying beside him had been one of the top pilots in the Hounds all those years ago. It was nice though to be paid the compliment and hardly one to turn away such praise, Victor decided to accept it. From the sounds of things, Shark had also been kept rather busy, working over the break of about five or so years since Verusa, and his presence here was no small indicator that perhaps this was the right place for Toval to be. checking on his own fuel situation, his grin behind the oxygen mask he wore faltered slightly as he noted the indicator showing zero. Then he relaxed as he tapped on the glass and sure enough the indicator slipped back up to where it belonged. Still low on fuel as the cross-continent sprint had been taxing on everyone in Scythe, he had more than enough to make it back home.

<<The Yukes were starting to get greedy and Svoboda seemed to be the only man who could fly alongside me. We took the contract straight out after the hostilities ended for the most part and joined up with Yvdenny private military company in Romny. Been busy ever since. Looks like you've just started to get busy here recently. What's been happening? Got called in by a client of ours and personally an old friend of mine, but when I heard you and another member of your squadron was here, I felt like I had been left out of some sort of party.>>

<<It started out as an easy job. I was given a $5 million marker by Dorusia to show up as part of a mercenary Squadron to make the Sianese Air Force seem a little more scary to Beiarusia. We did a couple of CAPs and then... someone started shooting. Since then its been all out war. I don't know how much is making the International News or anything but its been like 2 weeks and and here we are. Some other people from Sotoa have been involved off and on, but I'm the only one who is sticking around. You know me, I like to see a job to the end. Not all of us are working for Siean though. I almost killed Nixie today...>> his voice trailed off.

He didn't know whether or not he felt bad about it, war is afterall war and even private soldiers die.

by **Beiarusia** » Thu Jul 07, 2016 8:53 pm

Capt. Aleksei Tallow “Null”
The Battle of Gozen
September 30 // Gozen, Seian

It was over. Allied reinforcements had arrived and had decimated the unsuspecting enemy, though not the friends that had been expected. Scythe, whoever they were, but regardless of who or why Null was glad to have been caught on in their good graces this time around. In truth he almost felt sorry for the enemy. Almost.

<< Angel: Who are these guys? >>

Angel was on Null’s right wing, the two of them climbing back to altitude after having dived low from Praeses’ insistence. There was something almost unreal about the many contrails crisscrossing the sky over Gozen; about the plumes of smoke rising gently from where wrecks had buried themselves in the earth. Gozen was the new Manbasa and then some. It was a sentiment that Zeeger shared. As for the question, well, Angel’s guess was as good as his, but given the planes the squadron was most likely mercenary in nature, though who had hired them was an even greater mystery.

<< Tokugawa: Don’t know and don’t really care. They’re on our side so that’s all that matters. Hell, I’m glad to see them. >>

<< Angel: You’re just saying that ‘cause they saved your tail. >>

<< Tokugawa: My point stands. >>

The enemy was in full retreat, their sure victory having been snatched away at the very last moment. Whatever momentum they had was gone now. Gozen still stood in allied hands. The capital was safe, and unless the enemy had one last trick up its sleeve their offensive was over. Allied ground forces were already celebrating the decisive victory, their cheers filtering in over the radios in a mass cacophony. Even Kokkuri was adding his own voice to the mix. Null, on the other hand, could hardly call this a flawless victory on their part. Just how many of their own had been lost to enemy action? Too many was likely the answer. People died in war, that was a fact to be accepted, one that even Null understood to be true, but the pilot couldn’t help but to feel responsible for those under his command, and though he did not blame himself he was certain that something could have been done different. The mission was accomplished but Null was neutral to it all. Zeeger simply sighed, glad to be alive another day.

<< Estoc: Looks like we got company. >>

<< Reaver: Well, well, what do you know. Did not expect this. >>

<< Skull Kid: They shot down the enemy? They’re on our side, right? >>

<< Reaver: Relax, kid. We would know if they weren’t here to play nice. This is Major Dorian Graves of the Dorusian One-hundred-and-first to all planes over Gozen. Looks like you took all the fun. We got it from here I guess. I would say good job but you let some get away. >>

The DAF 101st was in visual range now: twenty-four F-15C Eagles coming in from the west, split into four individual flights with the three man Reaper taking point. The rush was gone so the planes were moving to establish a wide CAP east of Gozen.

<< Reaver: Morena, huh? Where you at Null? Holding up without us to watch your six. >>

<< Been better. >>

<< Reaver: You’re still alive. Most of you are. Never had any doubts. You and Angel head back. We’ll talk later. >>

<< Understood. This is Scarecrow One to all Morena planes still over Gozen. We are RTB. Let’s go home. >>

by **Kassaran** » Thu Jul 07, 2016 9:06 pm

Silvertongue
Battle of Gozen

<< Scarecrow Three, guns, guns, guns! >>

As Pearsohn brought the Mirage up and over in a high yo-yo, he watched as the Fargo quickly picked up a tail in the form of Shinden, streams of tracer fire lancing out over and over again and raking the air alongside the Mig. They were giving the pilot what for, but then a quick inversion and a dive at speeds that shouldn't have been possible for anyone save for a young and extremely fit pilot pushed both of the two aircraft into a scrap on the deck. Pearsohn, now coming down and out of the dive that finished off the yo-yo he'd pulled depressed the trigger for a split second as the flitting silvery form of the Fargo dashed madly from one side of the reticule to the other, almost perfectly perpendicular to Pearsohn. It wasn't enough, but quickly pulling back up to reorient for another shot, he watched as Shinden's Tornado roared past just below him.

Again, they had the kill-shot lined up, but with apparently all missiles out, nothing happened as they tried to inch closer to the Fargo scrambling madly around on the deck as the pilot inside slammed hard again to the left and then the right. The desperate juke did nothing and leveling out to try and gain back some speed, it looked like the tornado finally would have it's kill. A lance of tracer rounds spewed forth yet again, but fortune favored the Fargo pilot in this go as the shells seemed to only glance and bounce off of the thin sheets of metal that made up the Fargo's skin. Nevertheless, it did it's job as the Ace suddenly began to maneuver more erratically, trying to shake the persistent threat of the Panavia, but the jostling of the craft through the air over the deck still couldn't quite elicit the results the ace needed.

<< Superficial damage, guns! >>

A final spurt of fire seemed to divide the air around the Fagro into a bunch of places it shouldn't be and one place it should go as it had to extend further out. A sharp turn away from the battle, the ace pilot was now running scared, as he should have probably been before, but it was too late for him to reflect on that error now as Pearsohn's canopy slowly brought the HUD's aiming reticule down and over the Fargo. Still sitting happy on more than 100 rounds of 30mm cannon ammunition, he let the Fargo know. The radar-guided gunsight seemed only to grow smaller and smaller as he closed the distance, the Fargo desperately trying to no avail to outrun the much faster and much more modern Mirage III bearing down on his back.

<<Silvertongue, guns guns.>>

Pressing down on the trigger, he watched as a veritable maelstrom of HEF-I shells arc through the air, their grain-like illumination against the sky making them appear like little green-white specks of light in Pearsohn's vision. Shells slammed all across the backside of the Fargo, smoke and flame suddenly spurting from the right wing of the Ace as his craft seemed to shudder suddenly. the fire suppression systems around the fuel tanks in the wings quickly kicked in and a thin white vapor was all that was left seeping out from behind the Fargo. The three second burst of machinegun fire having done all it could, Pearsohn began to try and set up for another gun run on the Fargo as now his speed started to eclipse the Mig's own. He never got to finish lining up as his RWR lit up bright and hitting the countermeasures hard as he pulled high and right, he watched through the top of his canopy a pair of missiles fly past his craft, tracking the countermeasures for a second before detonating upon the computers inside realizing they'd been fooled.

<<Shit! Shinden get clear! He's got friends - again!>>

A flight of two Mig-23's, dispatched from Nixies flight from earlier had now come to bring the wayward ace in the Fargo home. their BVR capabilities forced Pearsohn into a quick retreat as there would be no way now to secure the final kill on the ace nor score damage on the two migs coming to support him without putting himself or Shinden in danger. Looking back in the direction of the Fargo again, he noted now that the white vapor it'd been trailing was gone and no longer was it in visual range. Wherever he'd slunk off to, he'd managed to avoid the fate of his original wingmen as the retreat from Gozen continued on.

Reaper
The Battle of Gozen

<<<<It started out as an easy job. I was given a $5 million marker by Dorusia to show up as part of a mercenary Squadron to make the Sianese Air Force seem a little more scary to Beiarusia. We did a couple of CAPs and then... someone started shooting. Since then its been all out war. I don't know how much is making the International News or anything but its been like 2 weeks and and here we are. Some other people from Sotoa have been involved off and on, but I'm the only one who is sticking around. You know me, I like to see a job to the end. Not all of us are working for Siean though. I almost killed Nixie today...>>>>

<<Shit man, last I saw of her was right towards the end of the war back in '87. Wait, did you guys say you're working for the Dorusians? What the Hell? What do they have to do with all of this?>>

[i]And why was Sivertongue of all people working with them? Did he know? Probably not, man hated Beiarusians to the core. Victor's own sentiment reflected a portion of that hatred, but mostly towards Dorusian mercenaries in particular which was strange enough given that now apparently Shark was one. Well, not technically, if anything he was an Osean merc working for the Dorusians in protecting the Seianese. This was all very quickly turning into one strange triangle of hate and love and employment. Not that there was much else to life in the first place, but it was enough to force Reaper to just want to tune out the rest of his thoughts as he waited for Shark's answer. A new voice cut over the comms before he could answer though, one that sent a surge of heat and adrenaline through Reaper's core as the accent held the same notes as those he'd been captured by all those years ago.

<<Estoc: Looks like we got company. >>

<< Reaver: Well, well, what do you know. Did not expect this. >>

<< Skull Kid: They shot down the enemy? They’re on our side, right? >>

<< Reaver: Relax, kid. We would know if they weren’t here to play nice. This is Major Dorian Graves of the Dorusian One-hundred-and-first to all planes over Gozen. Looks like you took all the fun. We got it from here I guess. I would say good job but you let some get away. >>

<<Well look who's late to the party in the first place Dorusian. This is Lieutenant Colonel Victor Toval of the Yvdenny Air Superiority Squadron, callsign Reaper, I appreciate the help in cleaning them up nevertheless. Blackjack, looks like everything's safe here, but stay on station for a while longer in case the Beiarusians try something with their B-V-R. Everyone else, head for home. Anton's got some explaining to do.>>

Ace Combat: Broken Line (IC/Open)

The Romnyan Reaper

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