Ace Witches 2022 (IC, Closed)

by **Austria-Bohemia-Hungary** » Wed Oct 13, 2021 10:13 pm

ACE WITCHES 2022

(OOC: Please refer to OOC-thread if interested)

ACE WITCHES 2022
16.May.2019 0500 Local
Eusian Ocean, Northeast by East of North Point
12.8°C (55.0°F), Clear
Z-Day

Alexandra Watts-Middleton, Captain of the Osean Navy woke up in her bed with a bit of a startle. Rubbing her eyes open she gave her bedside clock a stare before getting up. She was onboard Osean fleet carrier Constitution as its Commander, Air Group, the time was positively barbarically early and Alex had no idea why she had suddenly woken up with a startle.
Washing away the last of her sleep from her eyes in the bathroom she got dressed casually and poked her head out of the door of her room and office. Nothing appeared to be amiss from that initial glance so she returned and pinned her small portable radio on. With that she called 18MC for the bridge staff, asking for anything of note that had happened while she was sleeping. They reported back that a Big Bulge signal was detected during the night and apparently continuously tracking them from bearing 311, probably the Erusean Bear-D regiment from Snider's Top. Sighing, Alex got in the shower, 5 minutes later emerged back out, got dressed in the working uniform and proceeded to the CDC.

They had been underway now for over a week since hurriedly departing from Gracemeria and the rousing reception the Emmerians had given them. It was the third month into this cruise. One that had originally started out as a planet wide tour but had changed whilst they were docked in the capitol of Emmeria. Their new mission was peace enforcement in and around the Usean continent for a month to perhaps get the Erusean jets cooled down from all that sabre-rattling that was going on, and so in accordance they had been making best speed towards Fort Grays Island and the ISAF naval base there for the last seven days.
On the fifteenth of May however the situation deteriorated further, much further. Apparently the Eruseans would not have their jets cooled by any Oseans and thus initiated hostilities... by raiding Constitution-battlegroup's homeport of St. Hewlett, and any other Osean naval base that just happened to irk these recently restored royalists. On the afternoon the President of the Federation came before Congress and asked for a declaration of war. As the closest undamaged carrier of the OMDF, they increased speed just a notch and raised from peacetime status to Condition Three.

Arriving at the CDC, Alex exchanged a salute with the Ops Room handler and started going through what assets were airborne and what were not.
"Sunbeam 5 and 6, Faucon Leader and 2, Gold 1 and 2, Shiro 2, 4 and 15 up today?" She casually quipped to the staff and got an affirmative back. "Anything of note to report other than that Bear-D? No? Al-" And then Alex was interrupted by news from Gold 2, an E-12A positioned to the south of the Constitution.
"Gold Two to Charleston. New contact bearing 201. Designate Bogey 211." and then immediately followed by Shiro 15, the ELINT collector. "Shiro One-Five to Charleston. Contact Bogey Two-One-One is radiating. Classified as Big Bulge. It's another Bear-D. No wait... new contacts bearing 211 and 345. Both Big Bulges."
"It's an entire reconnaissance detachment... the Eruseans are up to something." As if on cue, the 1MC clicked on and informed the entire ship (and probably the entire battlegroup too) that they were now at Condition Two - one below action stations. Dialling up the flag bridge Alex suggested to the Chief of Staff and Flag-Officer-Commanding that the CAP should now be reinforced, but before that could happen Gold 1, positioned north called in. Six new bogeys from bearing 295, no ELINT signals.

Five seconds later, the crisp tone of a bugle sounded into the 1MC, intoning first Action Stations twice, and then the Double twice. To make that any less ambiguous if that was needed the officer of the deck then came on with: "All hands to Action Stations. All hands to Action Stations. This is not a drill. Set Condition One throughout the Ship."
Controlled, orderly pandemonium broke out as the Constitution and her crew readied themselves for any and all comers. Amidst this Alexandra Watts-Middleton got to her flying stations in the Air Group briefing room, just as it filled with every recognisable face possible, some excited, some stoic, but all ready for whatever fate would have in store for them today. Gently touching the radio in her ear, she established communications with the four fighters already airborne and sent some brief instructions.
"Faucon Leader, Sunbeam Five. Sunbeam Leader. Confirm receipt."
"Splendid. Sunbeam Five, move your element of two to FL410, course due west. Faucon Leader and element, drop to altitude provided by Gold One and identify just who our six new customers from bearing 295 are. Sunbeam Five and element will cover Faucon element, over."

Closing that link after her subordinates had confirmed receipt. Alex proceeded to the podium and took in the sight of a full room of Witches and pilots awaiting her every command. Clearing her throat with a little cough she began her address.
"Ladies and gentlemen. At 0440 hours local time our E-12's airborne north and south of us detected nine new bogeys in the span of ten minutes. Coming from both north and south. At this time they are still bogeys however given the fact that we are at war with at least one nation on planet Earth right now the intentions of these bogeys will most likely not be friendly. My intentions for Air Group Constitution are as follows:
Sunbeams 7 to 14 to scramble into the air and position themselves north of Charleston at haste, 15 and 16 in reserve, load full AAAM, FL410. Faucons 3 to 10 to scramble south with full AAAM's. FL410, 11 and 12 in reserve. Volunteers Leader to 8 to support Faucons, with full AMRAAM's. Ravens to support assets already airborne, take off via the vertical to save catapults for the heavies. Sunbeams 2 to 4 will be on me, we will be supporting the Ravens. Take off the same as Raven. All clear? Then go."

Leaving the briefing room with the rest of the crowd Alex got to the changing room in time long enough to hear that they have two more contacts, from the south. More customers, Alex sighed as she dressed, got her gear in order and arrived at her Unit in the rear of the hangar, leapt in to the euphoric rush of ether pouring through her entire system and the systems of her Unit and started taxi'ing to the starboard rear elevator with the rest of her flight.
Raised to the flightdeck level at the same time as the port rear elevator raised the Magic Ravens, Alex cast a glance over to their side while the forward elevators raised heavily loaded Talons and Tomcats. Only five Witches today, two were confined to the sick bay from a bad stomach flu, and one was still on official leave in Gracemeria. Taking yet another deep sigh, the middle-aged Witch dialled the bridge for her and her flight's takeoff clearance and then thundered off the deck. Turning tightly to port, she aligned herself with the carrier's course, just in time to see a huge Osean battle ensign being streamed from the top of the bridge. Looking back ahead, Alex settled on her climb.

About ten minutes later, ten minutes too much by her reckoning she and Sunbeams Two to Four had stabilised at 41,000 feet, and they began to follow from high up the movements of the second Raven element.

by **Finorskia** » Wed Oct 13, 2021 11:37 pm

Sub-Liutenant Yulia Utkin, Callsign: "Lighthouse"
16.May.2019 0430 Local
Eusian Ocean, Northeast by East of North Point
12.8°C (55.0°F), Clear
Z-Day
"Hey! Hey Lighthouse wake up," the familiar voice of Yulia's CO Adelaide Spijker barked at her. She could feel something hard being tapped against her body to wake her up. Yulia opened her eyes with a groan and looked up at her CO. Adelaide was leaning over Yulia's bunk, a mug of coffee in her hand which she was using to tap against Yulia's body.

"I'm up, I'm up you can cut it out now," Yulia whined as she sat up and swung her legs out of her bunk.

"Good," Adelaide smiled. "Now hurry up and get dressed. We've got a patrol this morning, wheels up in ninety. Oh and I brought you some coffee," she said, practically shoving the mug into Yulia's hands.

"But I've told you before I don't like coffee," Yulia looked up at her CO with tired, pleading eyes.

"Yeah, and I've told you before that as long as you're my WSO your gonna drink the goddam fucking coffee," Adeliade barked. She walked over to the door out of the junior officer's bunks. "I'll be up on the flight deck if you need me." Yulia sighed looked down at the mug of coffee in her hands, and took a sip, forcing herself to swallow the bitter liquid. She knew better than to disobey the Lieutenant Commander. Someone let out a whistle from the bunk above and across from Yulia. She looked up at the whistler.

"Looks like she pulled your number today Lighthouse. Just glad it's not me or Penny," Sub-Lieutenant Yuki Yamada, commonly known as Pinkeye, said. Penny was the nickname of her pilot, Fearghass Tosetti. Together the two of them made up the crew of Foucon 4.

"Yeah well, it feels like she's always pulling my number," Yulia glared at Yuki, as she took another painful sip of her coffee before hopping out of bed and getting dressed.

"No, she doesn't. Flounder picks on everyone equally," Yuki replied as if Yulia was just being melodramatic. Yulia finished getting dressed then hoped up to look Yuki right in the eye.

"You only think that because you don't have to fly with her almost every day," Yulia smirked before jumping back down and grabbing her coffee.

"Touche," Yuki shrugged. "Anyway good luck out there."

"Thanks," Yulia gave Yuki a joking salute before she left the bunkroom, mug in hand.

Liutenant Commander Adelaide Spijker, Callsign "Flounder"
Adelaide stood on the flight deck looking up at her F-14 in the dim pre-dawn light. It was painted a base gray, with a strip of black running along the top of the nose to about the middle of the aircraft behind the cockpit. On the nose was painted four and a half aircraft, Addelaides kill tallies from the circum-pacific war. Her and Yulia's ranks, names, and callsigns were written on the outside of their respective seats. At the back of the plane, the two massive tails were painted black with a white outlining. Five small white silhouetted falcons were drawn in a V formation, long streaks running from each one to the back of the tail, the squadron symbol of the Five Foucons. Adelaide smiled and ran her hand along the underside of the aircraft's nose.

"I swear, you care more about that plane than you do anyone in the squadron," Yulia said from somewhere behind Adelaide. The Lieutenant Commander turned around to see her WSO standing there. Adelaide frowned.

"Oh I like you and the rest of the Foucons perfectly fine," Adelaide retorted as she strode over to her WSO. "It's just that a plane is better company because it won't talk back," she gave Yulia a gentle punch on the arm. "Did you finish your coffee?"

"Yes sir," Yulia replied with a hint of annoyance. Adelaide furrowed her brow but chose not to pursue it.

"Good. Now common we've got a CAP to fly," Adelaide said, waving her arm in a "common" motion. "We're flying formation with Foucon-Two today," Adelaide began to explain as she climbed the ladder into the cockpit. She put her helmet on and then her oxygen mask. <<Comms check. Lighthouse you set?>>

<<I'm good to go Flounder,>> Yulia replied. In the back seat, Yulia had slotted into the striker system fitted to the seat. There was a blue glow as the magic system powered up and Yulia's pigeon familiar manifested itself.

<<Good,>> Adelaide glanced forwards to see Sunbeam Five and Six getting taxied over toward the catapult. <<Top covers gonna be provided by Sunbeam-Five and Six, and we're on intercept if anything goes wrong.>>

<<Chances of that?>> Yulia asked a bit concerned. That was good, Adelaide thought. The girl should be concerned. Better be concerned before battle than excited for it. Adelaide had been excited before her first battle, and she'd nearly gotten killed. If Swordsman hadn't intercepted that missile for her. She shuddered and returned to the moment.

<<Could happen. We are at war, and the tower's been tracking a flight of something all night. Keep your wits about you, and follow you're training and we'll get through this fine okay. Besides, you have nothing to worry about. You're pilots a war vet after all," Adelaide said in an attempt to calm her nervous WSO. There was a roar as Sunbeam-Five and Six blasted off the catapult. That meant it was now Foucon's turn to go up. The two F-14's were taxied onto the catapult. Both pilots went through final pre-flight checks. <<Tower, Foucon Lead, Ready for takeoff.>>

<<Foucon Lead, Tower, you are cleared to launch,>> came the reply from the control tower. Adelaide raised her hand in a thumbs up to show the cat launcher she was ready and kicked the throttle of her F-14 to full. A second later her F-14 was rocketed from zero to one hundred and seventy MPH in two seconds. Adelaide yanked back on the stick and the plane pulled began to climb, Fouon-Two right behind her.

Foucon Flight, 0500 Local
<<All I’m saying is that the Eursians have got to have a proper screw loose trying to take on Osea. They Couldn’t even beat ISAF when they controlled the entire continent,>> 2nd Lt. Alida Michel, callsign “Bunnyl” complained over the radio from the back seat of Faucon 2’s F-14E.

<<Weather it’s dumb of them or not doesn’t change the fact that were now at war. Honestly I don’t see why you’re so caught up on this that you complain about it every day,>> Lt. Cmdr Adelaide Spijker, callsign Flounder, replied from her F-14M. The two F-14’s flew along in the dawn light as part of the CAP. For the past week the Faucon’s had been flying almost non-stop CAP since their F-14’s provided the best equipment the fleet had for intercept.

<<I complain because they ruined a perfectly good global tour. Oh the cities and foods I was gonna get to experience. It was why I joined the OMDF and they ruined it. I’d barely got to experience the Gracmeria nightlife,>> Alida continued her rant. Adelaide rolled her eyes.

<<Whatever Bunny. I’m just glad every person I meet is going on about a golden king anymore,>> Adelaide said.

<<Aww I kind of liked it. What’s got you so bitter, commander?>> Alida asked.

<<Commander’s always bitter, don't you know. Crashing does that to a person,>> Lt. Gabby Patton, callsign Devil remarked from her pilot's position in Foucon 2.

<<Ouch. That’s a bit harsh even for you Devil,>> Lt. Yulia Utkin, callsign Lighthouse remarked from her position behind Adelaide.

<<It is. So remind me to write you two up later,>> Adelaide half-joked.

<<Aww, come on Captain you don’t have to go that far,>> Devil whined.

<<Actually I think I do. I thought putting the two of you together would temper you, but apparently, you’re just the best of buds. I do not know how you manage to fly together without killing each other,>> Adelaide said bewildered.

<<I put up with her cause she’s the best pilot in the fleet,>> Alida said in her usual cheerful, sing-song voice.

<<I only put up with her cause she’s the best WSO in the fleet,>> Gabby remarked.

<<Hey what do you mean only put up with?>> Alida sounded hurt.

<<Pfft, you wish you were the best pilot and WSO,>> Yulia snapped. A beeping light on Adelaide’s radio told her she had an incoming transmission on a different frequency.

<<Alright everyone cut the chatter,>> Adelaide snapped as she flicked the radio frequency over.

<<Faucon Leader, Sunbeam Five. Sunbeam Leader. Confirm receipt,>> it was the CAG.

<<Sunbeam Actual, Faucon Leader, Copy,>> Adelaide replied.

<<Splendid. Sunbeam Five, move your element of two to FL410, course due west. Faucon Leader and element, drop to altitude provided by Gold One and identify just who our six new customers from bearing two ninety-five are. Sunbeam Five and element will cover Faucon element, over,>> the CAG ordered.

<<Sunbeam Actual, Faucon Leader, Wilco, Dropping to twenty thousand, heading north bearing two ninety-five,>> Adelaide called back.

<<Devil, Flounder, you get all that?>> Adelaide asked.

<<Flounder, Devil, Copy,>> Gabby replied.

<<Good. Devil, Flounder, stay on my wing, line abreast, level stacking, tight spacing. Descend to twenty thousand, turn to two ninety-five, then increase to six hundred knots and follow me,>> Adelaide ordered. The two F-14’s rolled over and descended to the stated altitude, turned, and increased speed.

<<Lighthouse better switch to active RADAR and warm up the camera,>> Adelaide said.

<<Copy that Flounder,>> Yulia replied as she began flicking switches. <<Targets acquired on RADAR. Six of them as described. We will be within camera range in eight minutes,>> Yulia explained.

Eight minutes later the flight of two had closed on the target.

<<Looks to be a flight of six TU-95’s,>> Yulia explained what she was looking at through the camera. <<Yep definitely Tu-95’s, we just crossed my awareness threshold.>>

<<Alright well snap a pick for confirmation and send it back to the AWACS. Can’t go shooting without orders,>> Adelaide replied.

<<Aww why not Commander,>> Gabby piped up.

<<Cause that’s not how things are done. Now cut the chatter Faucon-Two,>> Adelaide snapped. <<Gold One, Foucon Leader, we just sent you confirmation pictures of the target. Squadron of six Tu-95’s. Want us to waste em?>>

by **Rupudska** » Sat Oct 16, 2021 7:02 am

Lt. Whitney Raith "Magpie"
16 May, 2019 // Eusian Ocean // Clear

It was the firm opinion of one Lieutenant Whitney Raith, Osean Naval Defense Force, that being a morning person was the surest sign of devilry, and should be considered felony sorcery alongside all the other illegal uses of magic more serious than souring someone's milk.

Indeed, her hatred for rising before the Sun was such that one might be pressed to inquire as to why someone like her would willingly put up with the military's insistence on doing so at all.

When asked, her usual answer was "Fensalir syndrome."

In reality, the almost mystical power of the coffee aboard aircraft carriers (usually) erased her exhaustion after the first sip or two. And if it didn't, a can of caramel-flavored quadshot espresso shotgunned down did the trick.

<<Raven Two, this is the tower, you are clear for takeoff in the vertical.>>

And thus was she handing off an empty can of the practically radioactive stuff to her crew chief, her hands then proceeding to check that all her straps and velcro patches were in the appropriate locations.

Takeoff in the vertical was an old way of doing things, dating back to when Strikers had piston engines instead of etherjets and quartz foci instead of synthetic diamond, and it was Not Usually Done anymore outside of really-for-real scrambles because etherjets were whiny bastards and it stressed them a lot more than it did piston engines.

It was also noisy as hell, and Whitney winced as the engines wound up to a shriek even through her helmet's noise-cancelling headphones and the usual sounds of a carrier at sea. Within seconds though, she was airborne, moving a few hundred knots, and the sound of her Strikers had become something bearable.

<<All right Ravens, this should be pretty simple. Radar only picked up bombers and transports so far, but keep your eyes peeled anyway. Still, MESA hasn't picked up anything so the Eruseans are probably only sending steelwings at us. Evens, you're going south. Odds, up north with me.>>

by **Fascist Republic Of Bermuda** » Sat Oct 16, 2021 9:53 pm

Sub-Lieutenant Katherine von Hohenstein "Fencer"

Katja von Hohenstein was a creature of habit. Always, barring extenuating circumstances, going to bed at around 10 PM and waking up at 6 AM. Roughly eight hours of sleep, and sixteen hours of daytime. Perfectly balanced, as all things should be.

“ALL HANDS TO ACTION STATIONS! ALL HANDS TO ACTION STATIONS!”

Unfortunately, life had a funny way of trying to break habits. Essentially having to speedrun getting ready for the day a full hour before her regular wake-up time was not exactly Katherine’s idea of a good morning, but when action stations were called, that meant the OMDF needed everybody at their stations five bloody minutes ago. Which explained why Katja tore out of the crew quarters for the briefing room with wild hair, untied combat boots, wearing her scrunchie as a bracelet, and an unzipped flight suit over her undershirt.

Katherine managed to zip up her flight suit before reaching the briefing room, making her at least somewhat presentable. She was still working on tying her hair back when Captain Watts-Middleton took the podium and began the briefing. Katja glanced at her squadronmates… well, all four of them. She suppressed a sigh. Brilliant. Just as a war starts and there are incoming unknowns approaching the fleet, squadron lead’s off getting wasted in Gracemeria and two other witches are down with some stomach virus. The witch finished tying her boots, thereby technically fully qualifying as “dressed” just in time for the rest of the squadron to shift to the dressing room to prepare for launch. Radio earpiece, noise-canceling headset, the works. She moved with the squadron to take her place on the port rear elevator.

As Katja waited for approval for takeoff, the standard pre-launch thought- that the 1-2 ton machines on her legs were made by the lowest bidder- crossed her mind and was dismissed just as quickly. Pontificating on the corners cut by requisition before launch did nobody any good. She was pulled from her thought by her radio clearing her for takeoff. The engines of her striker roared in protest, but the etherjets still did their duty, and soon Fencer was airborne. She zipped to altitude to get into formation with the rest of the squadron. Her radio crackled again- this time orders from acting squadron lead, Raven Two. Her element- “evens”- would break off and head south.

<< Raven Two, Raven Four. Roger, wilco. >> Katja confirmed.

The only other witch in her element was Songbird- Ensign Faulkner. She, admittedly, did not know Faulkner all that well- three things sprang to mind: she was a quiet type, generally competent... and half-Erusean. Ah. That might present a problem. It was never easy to shoot your own countrymen down. Like her pre-launch musing, though, Katja dismissed her concerns: it would be foolish to raise the issue unless it actually proved to be a problem- after all, she of all people was in no position to question other's loyalty based on their citizenship. For now, there was a mission to complete. Katja cleared her throat and spoke into the radio again:

<< Raven Six, Raven Four. You’re with me, Songbird. Maintain element, new course 2-1-1. >>

And with that she peeled off from Raven Two, adjusting her heading southwards and waiting for her wingman.

by **Nachfolgia** » Sun Oct 17, 2021 5:58 am

SLt. Sigrun " Albatross" Folkestad
16 May, 2019 // Eusian Ocean // Clear

<<Alright Sigrun, focus. This is the big one.>>

A rather awkward Nordennavic girl said to herself. This was her first combat flight since being with her new unit, Naval Air Squadron 215, The " Magic Ravens". With the alert going out, Sigrun and the rest of the Squadron had to rush to the flight deck. Rushing this early in the morning to get airborne was not a good thing as Sigrun was susceptible to forgetting things even on a slow day. Here's to hoping that she didn't forget anything important on her first combat flight.

<<Focus Focus Focus. Pre flight checklist. Umm...>>

Sigrun muttered to herself as she struggled to go over the list. This was important in her day to day and she'd done this dozens of times. However, everytime she does it her mind goes blank and she struggles to recall the info. It would get so bad that she made a copy of the official list that she keeps in her pocket all the time. Painfully getting through the list, albeit slower than most, Sigrun's mind suddenly remembered something else.

<<Did I put on underwear this morning?>>

Sigrun reached down the front of her shorts to make certain if she did or not. She breathed a sigh of relief when she felt the seem of her underwear.

<< Oh good. I did.>>

With her checklist complete she was ready for take off. She reached up to her hear to turn on her comm set, but when she pressed the button, it turned off. Her eyes widened in horror when she realized her comms were on the entire time. Her entire Squadron heard her talk to herself and struggle with the checklist. They must think she was incompetent. Sigrun turned her comm set back on, completely embarrassed.

<< Ummm...disregard what I said. I totally did NOT forget if I was wearing underwear.>>

Embarrassing moment out of the way, Sigrun took off from the flight deck to meet the rest of her Squadron in the air. The exhilaration of take off was something she would never get use to. The adrenaline rush she got from it always put her in a good mood. She loved flying, the absolute best thing she'd ever experience in her life. Smiling and chuckling to herself, Sigrun performed a few rolls before meeting up with her squad lead.

<< Raven 3 to Raven 2, I'm on your left.>> Sigrun said with a huge grin as she gave Whitney a thumbs up.

by **The Union of British North America** » Sun Oct 17, 2021 6:55 pm

16.May.2019 0430 Local
Eusian Ocean, Northeast by East of North Point
12.8°C (55.0°F), Clear
Z-Day

Julia de Rossi was barely tolerating the coffee she was having. It was in a stereophone cup, with some artificial sweetener. Hi-Sweet, it said on the ripped packet beside her on the small serving tray. It was brought over by her WSO from the ship's canteen. They both needed their caffeine fixes before they hit the routine items for the day--airplane inspection, weapons inspection, and the morning patrol--boring yet peaceful things for the day.

"This is not Gracemerian at all," she remarked. Gracemerian coffee blends have that smoothness and pep that one would taste and enjoy at an outdoor cafe. This was practically sludge--she thought and cringed about what it could be--barely grounded coffee beans with reused boiled water.

"You're right, Lt. Commander, this shit is ODF," said her WSO. Not much comfort on OMDF vessels. The capital of her former homeland, Gracemeria, of the Republic of Emmeria, is known for its cuisine and coffee. Osea is known for its technology and military prowess. Not that Emmeria was not a great power. It bounced back after the Em-Est War for the most part, but there are still scars in the capital and in other places.

After their mutual disgust of the coffee, the two headed to the flight deck. They saw their bird--the F-24A--getting finished with fueling. They entered their bird and ran through pre-flight checks after engine startup. After pre-flight, they taxied over to the diagonal catapult area. Within 5 minutes, they launched and were airborne.

16.May.2019 0500 Local

The usually pleasant patrol, so far the one that has been like the past several from when the Constitution battle group left Gracemeria to where they were now, close to North Point and near the Usean continent, has been boring. The F-24A was beginning to slowly bank to port and start heading back to the Constitution when it received a communication from the Boss Lady:

"Faucon Leader, Sunbeam Five. Sunbeam Leader. Confirm receipt."

"Confirmed, Sunbeam Leader," said de Rossi, callsign Thorn aka Sunbeam 5. "Hear that Joker?" she radioed to her WSO behind her. "Yes'm Thorn. Getting coordinates from the mother ship," the WSO replied.

"Splendid. Sunbeam Five, move your element of two to FL410, course due west. Faucon Leader and element, drop to altitude provided by Gold One and identify just who our six new customers from bearing 295 are. Sunbeam Five and element will cover Faucon element, over," said Sunbeam Leader.

"Affirmative, Sunbeam Leader, Sunbeam Five head to FL 410 due west. Will provide cover for Faucon, over." said Thorn.

"This is strange, bogies this far out?" inquired the WSO. "Stranger things have happened. Maybe phantom dots caused by a solar flare? But we can't be too careful, this is close to enemy territory, or what should have been formerly enemy territory, since the last war on this continent," said Thorn.

The F-24A reached 41,000 feet in altitude at an airspeed of 250 knots. The bird was outfitted with 1 M61A2 rotary cannon (250 rounds), 2 AIM-9X missles, and 4 AIM-120D missiles. It was ready for anything that would thrown at it.

by **Polish Prussian Commonwealth** » Mon Oct 18, 2021 7:53 am

Jeanne Faulkner

"War with Erusea."
Three words, and yet Jeanne felt like she had been stabbed. She had seen it coming, predicted it, even half-jokingly welcomed it sometimes during her half-drunk or dazed late-night visits to Emmerian internet chatrooms and basket-weaving forums.
But now that it was staring her in the face, the implications sunk in. One of her friends in Erusea had joined a Backfire regiment; another had gone into naval aviation. Her mother was in Farbanti right now and had been planning to return next week.
But she had orders, had taken the oath, the whole nine yards. She was Osean; born and raised, no matter how many Erusean middle names she had.

They would understand, surely. Hopefully.

“ALL HANDS TO ACTION STATIONS!"
Faulkner was awake and ablaze with action the minute she heard those words. Quickly she dressed and was wide-awake, and headed for the briefing-room. Soon after she arrived, Captain Watts-Middleton took to the podium. She soon grasped the general gist of the situation; bombers lurking on the edge of the battlegroup's radar, shoot them down, get out of my sight, and then it was off to the aircraft elevator.

As she prepared to take off, she glanced at the heavy machines strapped to her legs. They looked incredibly silly. But once upon a time, in better days at the naval academy, their technical aspects, their principles of operation, had fascinated her.
With that thought, she was off. Her etherjets roared, and then she was airborne and moving into formation with the rest of the squadron.

Her radio crackled as she settled into formation and Sub-Lieutenant Hohenstein began to hail her down. "<< Raven Six, Raven Four. You’re with me, Songbird. Maintain element, new course 2-1-1. >>"
Jeanne nodded in response. "<< Understood, Fencer. >>" She peeled away from the rest of the flight, following "Fencer".

by **United Kingdom of Poland** » Tue Oct 19, 2021 8:42 am

Elise’s heart raced as she made her way over to the hanger. Hastily tying her hair back into a ponytail, she slid down the railing and to her striker unit. “AMRAAM”s loaded on pylons two and three." The crew chief told her as he helped her get her harness on. “Pylons one and four still have the jamming pods if you want to change them real quick?”

Elise shook her head as she kicked off her shoes and slid into her striker unit. “They might be of some use if those bombers attack. She began running through the system checks on her PDF as the techs hooked up her modified M61 Vulcan and its ammunition drum to right leg striker unit. “Or if fighters show up. Even the Eruseans aren't suicidal enough to throw Bears at a carrier task force unescorted and expect them to live long enough to launch their missiles.”

The crew chief just shrugged and gave her the thumbs up, before stepping out of the way as she taxied to the elevator. Soon after she was up in the air with the others, circling to the south to join up with Fencer and Songbird. “Raven 8 to Raven 4 and Raven 6, I’m forming up on your right.” The air ahead of them appeared like a greenish white blizzard to Elise's eyes, and she felt a migraine begin as they got closer to the source of the jamming. “Raven 8 to Raven 4, I'm detecting one to two jammers amidst the bogey's. Suggest you, six, and Sunbeam hold at standoff range while I investigate and neutralize the EW aircraft."

by **Austria-Bohemia-Hungary** » Fri Oct 29, 2021 12:34 am

Z-DAY
16.May.2019 0500 Local
Eusian Ocean, Northeast by East of North Point
12.8°C (55.0°F), Clear

Forty-one thousand feet and about fifty miles north of callsign Charleston - their mothership, Gold One, the patrolling E-12A from NAS 917 was just about to receive the pics from Faucon Leader when suddenly six, then twelve and then thirty-six new contacts appeared on their screens right where the Tu-95's should be, and these contacts were climbing, fast. Thus there were little doubt of exactly what kind of "contacts" these were. "Gold One to all callsigns and Charleston. VAMPIRE. VAMPIRE. VAMPIRE. Bearings 290 to 300. Count Thirty-Six." A click in the radio and Lt Cdr Spijker was the next one to get called. "Faucon Leader. Cleared to splash all Bear's and would appreciate if you did it ASAP. Fleet will handle Vampires." A second click and the leading air warfare cruiser of the fleet received the next call. "Vanguard from Gold One, ready to engage Vampires on Bearings 290 to 300 via CEC at your call."

Fifty miles south and a lot of feet below Gold One, Raven Five, Mary Dinardi, the newbie Witch from the Osean Air Defense Forces, who had been improbably attached to a service operating in those enclosed tincans she so hated was waiting on the pattern to clear before her as the last one to get off the deck of Constitution of her element of three. It was still 5 am in the morning, it was still cold as hell and she had not had her usual morning pick-me-ups - or a breakfast. Overall another crappy morning in the service of the Federation.
Things turned a little less annoying and a bit more exciting when their northern airborne early warning post reported thirty-six Vampires inbound to the battlegroup. Evidently... somebody was extremely upset about their presence in this part of the planet. Upset enough to launch missiles at an Osean carrier division. Lifting off just and turning north per acting squadron leader's instructions, she passed Vanguard, their leading air warfare cruiser as Vanguard turned broadside onto the threat vector and unmasked every available launcher, gun and fire control radar against it. Seconds later, the first telephone pole like SAM rose to the air in a pillar of grey, opaque rocket exhaust, backlit by orange fire. It was followed by a flurry of another thirty five from every ship in the battlegroup. Forty thousand meters above sea level, at a combined approach speed of nearly twelve times the speed of sound the battlegroup's SAM's met the incoming Vampires head-on, blowing twenty of those who had not failed in midflight into smithereens. A second volley of eight would blow the remainder out of the skies when they were in the terminal dive.

This were all happening as Dinardi formed up with Raven Two and Three at altitude and heading north, hearing the radio calls from everybody from the guys and gals killing the Bears that had so offended their battlegroup to the officers and enlisted making the calls on Vanguard and Gold One to make sure the Bear's offence did not escalate into a disaster, like it had done on Fort Grays Island. Dinardi had a few classmates from the academy stationed there, and hopefully they were all alive and well...

Before she could think further, a fairly rude interruption with a distinct Erusean accent happened on the Guard frequency: "Leontius Group. Bonosus Group has launched their warload. Time for us to show these very lost Oseans where the exit is. One and Two is to launch weapons at will. Remainder standby for bomb delivery opportunity."
"Raven Two from Five. Did they... just have a collective hot mike moment?" Dinardi blurted out with surprise, but before she could add anything further Gold Two, their AEW station to the south interrupted with the news that twelve more Vampires had been detected to the south of them, bearing 200.

by **Fascist Republic Of Bermuda** » Wed Nov 03, 2021 4:40 pm

Sub-Lieutenant Katherine von Hohenstein “Fencer”

And with calls of “VAMPIRE! VAMPIRE!”, the Lighthouse War finally reached Carrier Division One. Katja still couldn't quite believe it. The damned Eruseans were attacking an Osean carrier strike group with nothing but some old Bears! It was suicide, they had to have known it. What, she vaguely wondered as she shot towards the southern contacts, were the odds they actually landed a hit on the CarDiv?

As she pondered the thought, a third witch entered formation and identified herself as Raven Eight. Quickly, Hohenstein sought to place her: TAC name Eisel. Electronic Warfare/Suppression of Enemy Air Defenses. Eisel mentioned sensing jamming aircraft. Did that explain why the Eruseans thought they could just tackle the Constitution with some turboprop bombers? But it was a good suggestion- frankly, with the number of missiles a striker could carry, a single spoofed missile was a sizeable percentage of a witch's arsenal wasted.

As Fencer was about to respond, a distinctly Erusean- true Erusean, not Raven Six- broke through on the emergency frequency. The first Vampire strike wasn’t the entire offensive. More payload, more bombs. Shit. At about this moment, Katja remembered the point of anti-ship missiles: to overwhelm enemy defenses. The Eruseans just had to get lucky once, and that's a fire on the flight deck. The witch grimaced. That would not happen on her watch. But those jamming aircraft could cause her missiles to run wild, and 200 rounds of gun ammo was frankly not stellar odds. She sucked in a breath and gave her orders:

<< Raven Eight, Raven Six. Raven Four. Raven Eight, suggestion noted. Proceed and take out the ECM aircraft. Raven Six and I will hold fire until you’ve given us the clear. Remember, flight- we have four missiles each, there’s a lot of bandits bearing down on the fleet, and we don’t have much time before they launch the rest of their payload. Keep it snappy and make every shot count. >>

by **United Kingdom of Poland** » Wed Nov 03, 2021 7:56 pm

Fascist Republic Of Bermuda wrote:<< Raven Eight, Raven Six. Raven Four. Raven Eight, suggestion noted. Proceed and take out the ECM aircraft. Raven Six and I will hold fire until you’ve given us the clear. Remember, flight- we have four missiles each, there’s a lot of bandits bearing down on the fleet, and we don’t have much time before they launch the rest of their payload. Keep it snappy and make every shot count. >>

Elise nodded as Katherine gave her blessing, before hitting the afterburners and climbing to 50,000 feet. Strangely, the headache from the jamming wasn't getting all that much worse the closure she got to it. Her training took over, reminding her that would only be the case if it was at a different altitude than what she was at. Cursing herself as she refocused, she noticed the greenish tint on the ocean below her and started a shallow dive.

She caught the feint trail of missiles below her a few minutes later. "Vampire. Vampire, Vampire!" She radioed out, unsure if the fleet could see through the jamming. "Unknown number of missiles between bearing 200 and 210, altitude unknown but below 10,000 feet." For a brief second she thought to dive on the missiles and take them out with her gun, but quickly shook the thought from her head. The missiles weren't her mission, the two jammers were.

She was certain there were two now as she continued her gentle dive. She could see the two dense ovals of electronic noise hovering a thousand feet over the rest of the formation. The headaches returning with a vengeance now, pounding in her head as she took a wide sweeping path to get behind them and too set up her attack run. She was shocked to realize there were still no air search radars active at that point, and part of her wondered where the Erusian fighter escort was. She couldn't worry about that too much though, only trust the rest of her flight to cover her after she part if this was a trap.

Pushing herself into a sharper dive, she lined up on the right most EW aircraft, a converted transport by the looks of it, and set her Amraams to home on jamming. The high pitch beeping in her ear told her both missile had their target. the missiles leapt off their rails with a dull thud before screaming towards their target, Elise pulling herself into a small roll to clear their exhaust and continue diving on the other jammer.

She had almost made it into gun range when the first aircraft, either oblivious to her or far too overconfident in their jamming was torn apart by the Amraams. he target proved to be far more perceptive , immediately killing its jamming and diving for the oceans surface in a tight corkscrew. The white noise was replaced by the short intense waves of their radio, and while Elise couldn't hear what was being said she knew a distress call when she saw it. It was all in vain though as Elise slid in slightly above the diving aircraft and set the pipper of her gun sight on the space between the right wing engines. One forty round burst later, it erupted into flames burning all the way until the the craft hit the ocean.

"Jammers destroyed Raven four!" She called out as she pulled up and flew slightly north to clear the bomber formation. "You and Sunbeam are cleared to engage with long range missiles!"

by **Finorskia** » Thu Nov 04, 2021 11:39 am

Lieutenant Commander Adelaide Spijker, Callsign "Flounder"

The call of vampire called over the radio. Though they were still too far away too see them their RADAR certainly picked up the multiple missile launches.

Shit, Adelaide thought to herself. Adelaide only had a moment to act. They still hadn't been given the clear to fire and missiles were already on their way to the fleet. She was about to order Yulia to use her magic to jam the anti-ship weapons, but the orders from Gold One stopped her.

<<Faucon Leader. Cleared to splash all Bears and would appreciate if you did it ASAP. Fleet will handle Vampires,>> the AWACS ordered. Well if that was what the AWACS wanted then that was what the AWACS would get. Adelaide held off ordering her WSO to jam the enemy.

<<Gold One, Faucon Leader, Faucon One and Two, engaging,>> Adelaide replied. <<You heard the AWACS Devil, let's clear em out. You take the three on the left I'll take the three on the right," the Lt. Commander ordered. <<Lighthouse, line 'em up,>> Adelaids thumb hovered over the missile firing button on her flight stick.

<<Faucon Two copies,>> Gabby replied.

<<It's all lined up Flounder,>> Yulia called from the backseat.

<<Time to send these Erusian fucks to hell,>> Adelaide smirked. <<Faucon One, Fox Three,>> Adelaide called out as three missiles raced from the underside of her F-14 to three of the Six Bears.

<<Faucon Two, Fox Three,>> Gabby called out as three missiles were launched from Faucon Two. In a matter of seconds, six RADAR contacts disappeared from their scopes.

<<Faucon One, splash three,>> Yulia informed the AWACS.

<<Faucon Two, splash three here as well,>> Bunny added.

<<Gold One, Faucon Lead, all six bandits have been eliminated. Faucon Two and I are still packing one Fox Three and two Fox Two's each. Requesting retasking over?>> Adelaide reported back to the AWACS. Her fleet was under attack and Adelaide was not about to just sit around and wait to see if a bunch of relatively green witches would get it done. Nine years ago she'd protected her carrier when the Yukes attacked and by god she would protect her carrier now.

Back on the carrier the rest of Faucon's flight was still being loaded up with AMRAAM's to aid in the fight. While they may be faster and pack a bigger punch than the striker units the witches used. Fueling up and arming a squadron of F-14's did take a bit longer than the witch's modern broom of choice.

by **Rupudska** » Tue Nov 09, 2021 6:43 pm

Lt. Whitney Raith "Magpie"

Magpie resisted the urge to groan as Faucon quickly smacked down the Eruseans to the north - the ones she and her little flight had been going for.

Mental sigh. Oh well, she was a close-range specialist to begin with, even by the standards of witches, and it was only with difficulty that witches could match the range of steelwings.

And then the call of "Vampire" went out...

<<Well then, it seems like everything has been handled in the north, so let's head south!>> she called out, and did just that. Mentally snickering at the complete and utter lack of comms security the Eruseans had just displayed. Allegedly a certain Erusean squadron had done the same in the last Usean war... and got promptly bodied by the Ribbon in turn.

Perhaps it boded well for Osea's fortunes in this war.

by **Austria-Bohemia-Hungary** » Thu Nov 18, 2021 11:46 am

Capt. Alexandra "Cripes" Watts-Middleton
16.May.2019 0500 Local
Flight Level 410
Heading South

The northern wave of Kickbacks, the oldest yet most dangerous threat appeared to have been defeated, by the combined efforts of Faucon, Vanguard and Gold One. Alex was in the middle of taking a sigh of relief and calling in her congratulations on Faucon's three kills when Gold Two called in.
"Gold Two interrupting. We have twelve more VAMPIRES coming our way from bearing 200. Altitude high and descending. Speed above Mach Three. Range... about 300 klicks... ETA 5 minutes. Classify as Strobile. There are also a dozen more Bears headed our way from same bearing. Range 300 klicks."
"Gold Two. From Sunbeam Leader. Get on CEC. Raven Four and element. Engage Bears from bearing 200 at will. Sunbeams Three and Four will join you with missiles."
As if on cue Three and Four who had taken stations aft and above Alex let loose with four "Fox Three"'s and four long range air-air missiles departed their Units and accelerated up to speed and altitude. Some long five minutes later the furthermost Tupolev products had their wings sawed off by three explosions and proceeded immediately to spin into the sea.

Simultaneously beneath them, another two dozen surface to air missiles caught the Onikses at low altitude and smacked half of them into the sea. A dozen more and the number had whittled down to three, two of which proceeded straight into the ocean the moment they turned their radars on - clearly some crippling technical fault and the last one went skywards chasing a cloud of countermeasures deployed by the frigate posted at the very rear of the battlegroup.

Audibly sighing in relief into the radio, Alex finally got on to Faucon Leader's request. "Faucon Leader. Sunbeam Leader. State fuel status and standby for tasking. This shit may not be over just yet..."

PO Mary Dinardi
16.May.2019 0500 Local
Flight Level 410
Heading South Too

So apparently they were now heading south too, along with everybody else who got suddenly unemployed by Faucon flight's kills. Dinardi though couldn't help but wonder one thing and she took no time in voicing that to her CO.
"Raven Five to Raven Two. We're... merely shooting down empty weapons bus..." and got promptly interrupted by Gold Two radio'ing in the southern group of vampires. Five quiet minutes of heading south while listening to everybody else killing Onikses and Bears later, Dinardi voiced another concern of hers. "Where's their fighter escort? This is turning out to be an absolute massacre of their bombers and... we have not seen a single Sukhoi product so far... Snider's Top isn't that far from where we are is it?" And indeed, amidst the falling missiles and Erusean Tupolevs their fighter escort was shining with its complete absence.

by **Fascist Republic Of Bermuda** » Tue Nov 23, 2021 6:14 pm

Sub-Lieutenant Katherine von Hohenstein "Fencer"

A chorus of good news reached Katja’s ears. The first news was given by Raven Eight: the SEAD witch confirmed the destruction of the jamming aircraft. Good- every missile counted, losing even one to ECM was unacceptable. And Sunbeam Leader- Captain Watts-Middleton- came through and said to fire at will. Even better. An entire formation of big, slow, heavy bombers with no escort- and thanks to Raven Eight, no EW support.

<< Sunbeam Leader, Raven Four. Roger and wilco. >>

A quick glance over at Raven Six confirmed Faulkner was still in element. A confident smirk found its way onto her face as she relayed new orders and turned towards the Bears:

<< Raven Six, Raven Four. Weapons free- Let's get stuck in before the rest of the squadron gets here. Good hunting! >>

Two Fox-Threes, and two Fox-Twos, and 250 rounds of gun ammo. That’s enough. But a quiet voice, the little part that had sat enamored listening to her mother’s stories, told her that it was more than enough: four missile kills and a few gun kills on top of it. Enough to get her an ace... just like the great heroes of history, those brave knights who made the sky their domain! It made her feel as giddy as a schoolgirl, just thinking about it. The roaring of her striker’s afterburner pulled Katja from her flights of fancy, making her refocus on the matter at hand- namely, the twelve Tu-95s slowly trundling their way to launch their bombs at the fleet.

Hohenstein took careful aim at one of the Bears, letting the tone of the lock fill her ears before launching the AMRAAM and calling out << Raven Four, Fox Three. >>

She turned her head towards another Tu-95. This time, it was like clockwork. Lock on. Good tone. << Fox Three. >> Missile away.

That was her long-range missiles exhausted. Despite her attempts to stay on-task, a phrase kept bouncing around in her head: an ace in a day. It intruded into her planning ahead for closing the range- if one ASRAAM took down one Tu-95, that’s two more, and a strafing run to the cockpit would kill even the mighty Bear. Or perhaps an ASRAAM and a quick burst from the gun could secure her two kills... But, the sensible part of her countered, maybe by then there's enough AMRAAMs from the rest of the squadron that the ten bombers go down without even a chance to get into gun range.

Far ahead of her, there were two flashes and two blips disappeared off of radar. Katja let out a chuckle before declaring:

<< Raven Four, splash two. >>

by **United Kingdom of Poland** » Sat Dec 04, 2021 7:08 am

“I haven’t detected any search radars other than our own, either.” Elise confirmed as she circled back around. The bomber formation was beginning to scatter, deploying what little countermeasures they had in a vain attempt to hide from the swarm of missiles now coming for them. She could see the radar tracks following most of the bombers, and as she watched the first two missiles ripped their targets apart.

Noticing one of the bombers diving for the ocean, Elise pulled hearself into a dive and put herself on an intercept with it. Careful to keep herself out of the cone of the bombers rear turret, she lined her gunsight on the cockpit. She hesitated for a second, the results of her actions finally hitting her. She’d have blood on her hands after today. But she was a good soldier, and that meant killing the enemy before they could kill you.

“Raven eight, splash three.” She radioed a moment later as the nearly headless bomber crashed into the ocean, a hint of sadness in her voice.

by **Finorskia** » Sat Dec 04, 2021 2:19 pm

Lieutenant Commander Adelaide Spijker, Callsign "Flounder"

There was no time to celebrate for Adelaide and her wing woman. The comms were a mess, reports of kills, reports of incoming missiles, reports of incoming reinforcements. Yet surprisingly nothing about enemy airpower, which struck Adelaide as surprising. During the Circum-Pacific war, Yutkotabinan fighters had managed to fly across the entire ocean to hit port St. Hewlett, surely the Erusian's could do the same. Could the bombers be a diversion, and the enemy is coming in at low altitude, or could it be something clompletely different? Frogmen dropping from the wrecks, seems rather...

"FLOUNDER!" Yulia snapped at Adelaide over the radio. The war vetern snapped out of her thoughts. "The CAG is asking for our fuel status," Yulia explained. The young witch sounded slightly concerned for her pilot, or perhaps the concern was for herself.

"Understood," Adelaide replied. She glanced down at her fuel levels and cursed. The burn they'd done to intercept the bombers had taken a good chunk of their fuel and they were now sitting at Bingo. They'd either have to refuel in mid air, or return to the carrier. She clicked her mic to open. <<Devil I'm just near Bingo, how about you?"

<<Same thing here boss,>> Patty replied. Addelaid sighed, the battle was just getting started and there were rookies out here. Now was not the time for her to be running out of fuel.

<<Subeam Leader, Faucon Leader, Faucon Two and I are at Bingo fuel over,">> Adelaide relayed to Alexandra.

by **Polish Prussian Commonwealth** » Tue Dec 07, 2021 11:40 pm

Austria-Bohemia-Hungary wrote:Before she could think further, a fairly rude interruption with a distinct Erusean accent happened on the Guard frequency: "Leontius Group. Bonosus Group has launched their warload. Time for us to show these very lost Oseans where the exit is. One and Two is to launch weapons at will. Remainder standby for bomb delivery opportunity."
"Raven Two from Five. Did they... just have a collective hot mike moment?" Dinardi blurted out with surprise, but before she could add anything further Gold Two, their AEW station to the south interrupted with the news that twelve more Vampires had been detected to the south of them, bearing 200.

Fascist Republic Of Bermuda wrote:<< Raven Eight, Raven Six. Raven Four. Raven Eight, suggestion noted. Proceed and take out the ECM aircraft. Raven Six and I will hold fire until you’ve given us the clear. Remember, flight- we have four missiles each, there’s a lot of bandits bearing down on the fleet, and we don’t have much time before they launch the rest of their payload. Keep it snappy and make every shot count. >>

Fascist Republic Of Bermuda wrote:Sub-Lieutenant Katherine von Hohenstein "Fencer"

A chorus of good news reached Katja’s ears. The first news was given by Raven Eight: the SEAD witch confirmed the destruction of the jamming aircraft. Good- every missile counted, losing even one to ECM was unacceptable. And Sunbeam Leader- Captain Watts-Middleton- came through and said to fire at will. Even better. An entire formation of big, slow, heavy bombers with no escort- and thanks to Raven Eight, no EW support.
<< Sunbeam Leader, Raven Four. Roger and wilco. >>
A quick glance over at Raven Six confirmed Faulkner was still in element. A confident smirk found its way onto her face as she relayed new orders and turned towards the Bears:
<< Raven Six, Raven Four. Weapons free- Let's get stuck in before the rest of the squadron gets here. Good hunting! >>
Two Fox-Threes, and two Fox-Twos, and 250 rounds of gun ammo. That’s enough. But a quiet voice, the little part that had sat enamored listening to her mother’s stories, told her that it was more than enough: four missile kills and a few gun kills on top of it. Enough to get her an ace... just like the great heroes of history, those brave knights who made the sky their domain! It made her feel as giddy as a schoolgirl, just thinking about it. The roaring of her striker’s afterburner pulled Katja from her flights of fancy, making her refocus on the matter at hand- namely, the twelve Tu-95s slowly trundling their way to launch their bombs at the fleet.
Hohenstein took careful aim at one of the Bears, letting the tone of the lock fill her ears before launching the AMRAAM and calling out << Raven Four, Fox Three. >>
She turned her head towards another Tu-95. This time, it was like clockwork. Lock on. Good tone. << Fox Three. >> Missile away.
That was her long-range missiles exhausted. Despite her attempts to stay on-task, a phrase kept bouncing around in her head: an ace in a day. It intruded into her planning ahead for closing the range- if one ASRAAM took down one Tu-95, that’s two more, and a strafing run to the cockpit would kill even the mighty Bear. Or perhaps an ASRAAM and a quick burst from the gun could secure her two kills... But, the sensible part of her countered, maybe by then there's enough AMRAAMs from the rest of the squadron that the ten bombers go down without even a chance to get into gun range.
Far ahead of her, there were two flashes and two blips disappeared off of radar. Katja let out a chuckle before declaring:
<< Raven Four, splash two. >>

Jeanne Faulkner

Too much information raced over the airwaves. The Erusean hotmic had made her heart skip a beat, and she let out something between a quiet sob and a whimper, heart pounding with terror. Was that voice one she knew? One she had met at school, or had heard on Farbanti's wide boulevards? Soon, however, her comrade's radio chatter drowned that out, before she could decide for sure.
No time to think about that, anyways; she chided herself, though still her heart twinged with fear. Save the tears and mental breakdown until this blows over.

WIth that, she tuned back into her communications to find Four speaking. << Raven Eight, Raven Six. Raven Four. Raven Eight, suggestion noted. Proceed and take out the ECM aircraft. Raven Six and I will hold fire until you’ve given us the clear. Remember, flight- we have four missiles each, there’s a lot of bandits bearing down on the fleet, and we don’t have much time before they launch the rest of their payload. Keep it snappy and make every shot count. >>

<< "Raven Four, Raven Six. Copied." >> she muttered, just loud enough for Four to hear. She maintained her position just to the left and rear of Four, keeping an eye out for an Erusean fighter escort that would...probably never come, while the battle continued to rage. Soon the hostile ECM aircraft had been reduced to chaff or flaming wrecks headed for the water.

Jeanne continued to stay behind until word reached her from God -- well, not quite God, but at this rate Sunbeam was something close to that for her -- cut in, and ordered Raven Four and Element to fire at will. That meant her.

As if to confirm, Four moved in; << Raven Six, Raven Four. Weapons free- Let's get stuck in before the rest of the squadron gets here. Good hunting! >>
<< "Raven Four, Raven Six. Copied...moving in." >>
She banked slightly, following Raven Four, and went to full afterburner as well. No thoughts of medals filled her mind, nor flights of fancy. Each missile was not a ticket to glory but an instrument of death; in effect a large shotgun shell, that ripped through man and machine alike. The thought of one of those metal pellets slashing gentle Natheniel's juglar open, or sending Henderson to a grisly death in the burning wreckage of his plane, was not a pleasant one. But neither was the thought of a bomb or missile smashing through the carrier -- the carrier, and beyond that, the nation she had sworn to defend.

So, after but a moment's hesitation, she took her aim at a Bear as well. The tone warbled in her ears -- an AMRAAM had locked on to some unlucky Bear. << "F-fox three." >> she choked out, as an AMRAAM sped on it's way towards it's target.

by **Austria-Bohemia-Hungary** » Fri Dec 17, 2021 6:37 pm

A Load of Stoff
16.May.2019 0500 Local
Flight Level 410
Heading South

So Faucon One and Two haven't got the fuel. The Raven group under Fencer is engaging Bears. And the other group under Magpie is speeding south. Cripes quietly mumbled to herself while constructing her mental image of the battlespace and getting the priorities sorted out. Faucon element was probably number one on that list what with their Bingo fuel situation, second came Magpie's section that was heading south in what was probably going to be a meaningless wild goose chase. Witches versus lumbering unescorted bombers? That action was decided before even the Erusean Tupolevs took off.
This battle was going way, way too much in the Oseans' favour, considering what they've sent and what they didn't it almost felt like the Eruseans were making a complete fool of themselves. It almost felt like... the Tupolevs was a decoy of some description, despite being exquisitely armed with supersonic missiles designed to seriously hurt a carrier division. Considering the immense success the previous surprise raids on Osean naval facilities had achieved there had to be some proverbial ace up this Erusean sleeve.
But worrying about things that had yet to materialise was a futile endeavour, firstly Faucons' fuel...
"Shiro Ten from Sunbeam Leader. Report. How's getting off Charleston going?"
"Shiro Ten to Sunbeam Leader. ETA to FL 200 in twenty minutes."
"Roger. Make it fifteen. Out."
"Affirm."
Switching channels, Alex returned to Faucon Leader with the news.
"Faucon Leader from Sunbeam Leader. Shiro Ten with your fuel will be on station in twenty minutes. You got that amount of time I hope?" The last line was delivered with some cheekiness, mostly to conceal a certain tone of stress underneath.

Almost eight miles below them, and after what seemed like an entire eternity fuelling up and getting into position, Shiro 10 and 11, a pair of KS-4A's from the Black Cats squadron shot off the bow catapults and started their lumbering climb up to altitude. As they did so, Shiro Ten turned on their guidance beacon and started spiralling approximately a dozen miles north of Constitution. Simultaneously the radio in Faucon Leader's F-14M clicked with "Faucon Leader from Shiro Ten. We'll be on station for your refuelling in twelve minutes. I am sending you the coordinates of rendezvous now."

Back at Flight Level 410 and passing the northern point of their air-defence cordon. Alex shook her head a bit to clear her mind. Moments later, Magpie, in the lead for her section that was running south as fast as their Superbugs could bear received a call.
"Raven Two from Sunbeam Leader. Hold your section where you are and standby facing north. We can't leave the northern window wide open to attack as everyone rushes south to kill a few Tupolev products."
And just to make sure there absolutely were no surprises yet to come from that direction Alex called up their northern airborne early warning post.
"Gold One from Sunbeam Leader. Anything to report?"
Expecting a nothing, Alex instead got a "Gold One to Sunbeam Leader. Yes. Six new bogies bearing 340 to 350. Designated Bravo 271 to 277. Range... about... Four hundred miles. Unable to identify."
She let through a mirthless chuckle and got back on the horn to Magpie.
"Raven Two from Sunbeam Leader. Hear that? We got guests from the north again... extreme range... close with as far as you are able while I figure out what your backup is."

by **Rupudska** » Wed Jan 12, 2022 1:50 pm

Austria-Bohemia-Hungary wrote:Alex shook her head a bit to clear her mind. Moments later, Magpie, in the lead for her section that was running south as fast as their Superbugs could bear received a call.

"Raven Two from Sunbeam Leader. Hold your section where you are and standby facing north. We can't leave the northern window wide open to attack as everyone rushes south to kill a few Tupolev products."

And just to make sure there absolutely were no surprises yet to come from that direction Alex called up their northern airborne early warning post.

"Gold One from Sunbeam Leader. Anything to report?"

Expecting a nothing, Alex instead got a "Gold One to Sunbeam Leader. Yes. Six new bogies bearing 340 to 350. Designated Bravo 271 to 277. Range... about... Four hundred miles. Unable to identify."

She let through a mirthless chuckle and got back on the horn to Magpie.

"Raven Two from Sunbeam Leader. Hear that? We got guests from the north again... extreme range... close with as far as you are able while I figure out what your backup is."

Magpie responded after a few seconds, though the response was rather heavy with static.

<<Wilco. Gonna hope there aren't too many, my radio's acting up again. Tell the maintenance guy in charge of my Strikers that if it's the same thing as last time, I will personally strangle him with his stupid green lanyard.>>

"Roast turkey, coming up," she said to herself as she kicked on the afterburner, her squadron quickly following suit.

She hummed to herself as she flew to the north, expecting at least a satisfying end to an easy mission, even if it was a combat one.

She was soon to change her mind, however.

After some minutes of flying, she began to pick up magical signatures.

Witches. And...

Shit.

<<Raven Two to Sunbeam Lead. Got witch signatures approaching, and damn me if they aren't Fulcrums.>>

by **Finorskia** » Thu Jan 13, 2022 1:59 pm

Lieutenant Commander Adelaide Spijker, Callsign "Flounder"
Adelaide checked her fuel gauge again when asked. She did the math in her head and they should have enough to loiter for 20 and refuel. It'd be close and they wouldn't have a lot of time to faff about but it was doable. She knew she had the skill for a quick refuel and she trusted her wingmate did as well.
<<Sunbeam Lead, Faucon Lead, It'll be tight but we'll have the fuel to stick around and wait for the tanker>> Adelaide explained. <<You hear that Devil? Get ready to settle down and wait for a tanker>>
<<Man! And right as the action was kicking off too. Not that we'd be able to stick around long anyway when all we've got left are single AMRAAM and a couple of Sidwinders>> Gabby whined.
<<Yeah...>> Addelaids replied. She glanced down at her ordinance display. Even once they'd refueled she and Gabby would not be able to provide that much aid to the witches. She let out a sigh and relaxed in her seat. There wasn't anything she could do about that and right now she had to hang around for the tanker anyways.

Liutenant Marvin Leighton, Callsign "Smasher"
There was a soft thud-like sound and Marvin's F-14 jolted slightly as it was locked into place on the Constitutions catapult. To his right Lieutenant Ferghas Tosetti's plane was locked into place as well. The faint sound of hydraulics could be heard and Marvin could see the blast deflectors being raised behind his aircraft.
<<Faucon Three, Tower, you are cleared to Launch>> the carriers control informed Marvin. He looked over to the catapult operator who was giving him a thumbs up.
"You all set back there Dimple?" Marvin asked his WSO, Sub Lieutenant Jonquil Hampson.
"Good to go, Smasher," Jonquil replied, reaching up and bracing herself on the metal handles. Marvin raised his thumb to the catapult director and increased the throttle. Within seconds his plane was rocketing off the Constitution's deck. Now airborne he and Faucon Four turned and climbed to their assigned altitude to wait for Faucon Five and Six.

By the time Lieutenant's Hallvard Thomassen and Mallt Rees birds and joined up with Marvin and Ferghas a disturbing radio report had come in. Sure the carrier group was doing its job mopping up the bombers but now there were enemy air contacts and witches at that. Marvin gulped. He'd never seen combat and sure he'd had plenty of sim time and done a few mock dogfights for training. But every time he'd fought a witch he'd always been shot down, and violently too.
<<Sunbeam Leader, Faucon Leader, my Faucon's can finish off the bombers, but their steel-wings won't fare well against those witches. I recommend having Raven intercept the fast movers, over>> the wonderful voice of the Faucon's CO requested over the radio. Marvin let out a sigh of relief. Thanks to his goddess of a CO he might actually get to survive this first engagement.

Sub-Liutenant Yulia Utkin, Callsign: "Lighthouse"
"Dammit," Yulia cursed to herself. She was finally getting to see combat, finally given an opportunity to prove to Osea that neither she, nor her father, nor any Yuktobanian immigrant was any less Osean than a native-born one. Yet instead of being out there in her striker, duking it out with some Erusian witches. That damn Belkan in the Ravens was out there getting to fight, but instead, Yulia was stuck here. Strapped to a seat, in an outdated plane, waiting for a slow tanker to meet up with them. She let out a sigh. Just her luck she had to be shunted into this dead-end experimental unit.

by **The Union of British North America** » Sun Feb 20, 2022 7:03 pm

A Load of Stoff (Thorn's Perspective)
16.May.2019 0500 Local
Flight Level 410
Heading South

De Rossi was a human, as was her WSO Joker, but now things were getting interesting. Witches. As in magical femme-fatales that can fly. Many countries of the world had their own Witch units, elite combat forces that were the force multiplier in dogfights. Witches generally relished fighting amongst their own kind when they got the chance, but the usual missions of destroying enemy locations and aircraft, staffed and piloted by ordinary humans, took strategic precedence.

Sunbeam 5 and her element of two birds were providing cover to Faucon element. Over the course of the engagement, they buzzed and boxed in enemy birds while Faucon and the other callsign leaders and their birds wiped the enemy out. The calls of Vampire thrice over the comms made things very lively very quickly. Her element were still getting warmed up when she got a report from Magpie:

<<Raven Two to Sunbeam Lead. Got witch signatures approaching, and damn me if they aren't Fulcrums.>>

Smasher then gave her two cents: <<Sunbeam Leader, Faucon Leader, my Faucon's can finish off the bombers, but their steel-wings won't fare well against those witches. I recommend having Raven intercept the fast movers, over>>

But today, for Rossi, it was a time to shine. Her birds were heading west but were now to go due north towards the enemy bombers and the Witches protecting them. The primary targets were the Witches--counting 4 Witch MiG-35s. "Give me cover while I do this," said Joker. Thorn hit the throttle. The three birds of Sunbeam 5's charge traveled about 300 km, and as soon they hit that mark, Sunbeam 5 let loose all 8 AMRAAMs in a slightly staggered manner, two per enemy fighter. Then she bugged out with her two birds, bearing south now and towards the direction of the Osean carrier.

by **Austria-Bohemia-Hungary** » Thu Mar 03, 2022 1:50 pm

Witches...
16.May.2019 0530 Local
Flight Level 410
Heading North

Fulcrum Witches... Erusean... this far out... is this that proverbial ace up the Erusean sleeves they were hiding all along? And how did they get this far out with no available bases nearby? Questions like this flooded Cripes's mind while she turned Sunbeam flight northwards to join the formations she had chasing after the northern enemies. Before she could begin to sort these questions out Faucon Three interrupted her with the fact that they were now flying face first into Witches and if nothing was done about it her long range anti-bomber assets would be put in grave danger. On her hand were... Raven Two, Three and Five, going north; Faucon One and Two... both hors de combat until they get new weapons and fuel; Faucon Three and Four. They were not the most ideal asset to engage Witches with; Raven Four, Six, Eight, still embroiled with the southern group of bombers; Herself and Sunbeams Two, Three and Four. Two and Three haven't got long range missiles; Finally, Sunbeam Five and Six... they were still going west weren't they?
As if on cue as her thoughts arrived at Sunbeam's steelwing group Five reported that they were now moving in to engage with long range missilery. Cripes caught herself in a moment of confusion as Sunbeam Five and Six got ever closer to the Erusean Witches. What were they trying? Witches were plenty capable of dodging a long range missile, especially when the latter were on the end of their trajectories. However... if the Erusean Witches were forced on the defensive that opened up...
"Sunbeam Five. Good initiative. Pull out as soon as you lose those missiles. Leave the rest to Raven."
And thus a battle plan against the inbound Eruseans finally formed. Sunbeams Five and Six would put the Witches on the defensive while the three Witches out of Raven got in close, and that opened a window for Faucon to get the bombers... yes... everything looks sound...
"Sunbeam Leader to Raven Two. Here's the plan: On my cue lose all your Fox Threes on the Erusean Witches, use the opening created by them going on the defensive to get in and get them out of this fight. Don't care if you have to bayonet them, Sunbeams Three and Four will directly assist you."
"Sunbeam Leader to Faucon Three. My element and Raven will create that opening for you to kill the northern group of bombers. Do it as fast as your engines will bear and then get the fuck out. Don't bother tangling with anyone."

Sighing, Cripes settled back into her Unit and adjusted her course slightly. Gold One, dozens upon dozens of miles behind her directed her squarely onto the Fulcrum Witches as they started evading Sunbeam Five's missiles. About fifteen minutes later Cripes took in a deep breath as two Sunbeam Witches crossed into the effective range of their Fox Threes, then she breathed into the radio. "Fox Threes one and two."
Four shimmering red rocket plumes carried four missiles up from the two Witches at forty-one thousand feet into the high stratosphere. About two minutes later the eight Erusean Witches got another surprise as more missiles descended down on them. Just as they were recovering from the hard exercise that gave them five Osean Witches dived down on them from out of the sun.

Ace Witches 2022 (IC, Closed)

Ace Witches 2022 (IC, Closed)

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