Ace combat 4: Distant Thunder
A link from past to future
By Ross Mulders
Disclaimer: I don't own the ace combat rights nor any of the squadron call signs, just my version of the events described here (note ark royal is owned by her Majesty's royal navy) also I haven't played Ace combat 4 since my PS2 died to expect some inaccuracy…
ISAF carrier Ark Royal, 2004
The officer of the watch, greeted the last few pilots coming into the briefing room,
"All right now you're all here, let's get on with this… He started, glaring at the new arrivals. "Last night, enemy agents eliminated our early warning radar, allowing several bear bombers to penetrate our airspace. In 15 minutes they will strike allenfort airbase, a key ISAF faculty before moving on to targets in north point. They cannot be allowed to succeed, if the bear bombers reach north point, they will be able to deal significant damage to our remaining command and control structure. It is therefore vital that you intercept these aircraft." He paused for a moment, "your aircraft are fueled and ready, you take off in 5"
Mobius one was the second to take off, waiting behind him were half a dozen phantoms, as he was lined up on the catapult the flight controller reported "Mobius one, take off immediately to clear the flight line". Giving the thumbs up to the ground crew, he prepared to be thrown into the sky. As the catapult launched him forward, he was pushed back into is seat as he took to the skies.
The flight of Phantoms leveled out at 6000 feet, by the time they reached the operation area, the bear's were 5 minutes off their targets, the 4 powerful turboprops driving the old Yoctobainain bombers forward at close to 500 mph. Each bomber was overloaded with freefall bombs, while old; the bear's had the longest range of any of the Eurasians combat bomber force. They had a small fighter escort, staying close to the bombers… mostly old Mig 21's and a pair of scavenged F-5's; ISAF's chaotic fallback had given the Eurasians much in the way of osean equipment. They must have removed most of the armor and weapons on the fighters, sacrificing combat effectiveness for range. By now they must be reaching their bingo point, forcing them to abandon the bombers and head for home…
"AWAC's here, call sign skyeye, do you read?"
Mobius one flicked his microphone twice to acknolage
"Your call sign is Mobius one, we will refer to you by this name at all times. Twelve bombers at vector 360 continue north to intercept" the voice paused before adding "today's my birthday, a victory would be nice! Mobius one, engage"
Hitting the afterburners, Mobius one felt his F-4 accelerate towards his targets, he was not worried about fuel consumption, he could land at allenfort if need be… the rest of the squadron did the same, the distance increasing between them before Omega 1, the brevet squadron leader took control
"don't spread out so much, stick with a wingman, we cant afford to lose anymore planes…Bravo 9 with me, Omega 4 and Delta 6, take the left bomber, Mobius one and viper 11, shoot forward and intercept the lead planes, the rest of you guys, deal with the fighters"
Viper 11 fell in beside, Mobius 1, chatting into the microphone "all right, lets do this, get up to 20,000 then we dive on the first bomber…"
Both pilots pulled back on their sticks, engines till at full throttle they reached their target altitude just as the rest of the squadron started biting the heels of the bomber force. Mobius 1 opened the channal to viper 11, "go for the left one, save your missiles for the fighters, just fill the bear's with 20 mic mic"
"Roger that, don't bite off more than you can chew, those Eurasians may be flying obsolete deathtraps, but they can knock you out of the sky given the chance."
Both fighters then dived towards their targets, hitting the lower ends of mach 2 as they descended. The rear gunner in the leading bomber didn't even see them until the gun flash of mobius's phantom caught his eye. The 20mm rounds impacted less than a second later, tearing a hole in the port wing of the bomber…
"We're hit! Everyone out!" cried the bomber pilot over the radio as he tried to hold the bomber stable. Mobius one a banked left after strafing the bomber, turning around for another pass…
"Mobius one, move to the next target, I see chutes from the bear you shot up…" Viper 11 reported
By this point the pair of Mig's escorting the bomber force had woken up to the threat of the fighter squadron, one splitting off to distract the phantoms biting at the formations heels, the other latching onto viper 11 as he begin to strafe the second bomber
Viper 11's shots impacted against the main fuselage of the bomber, the rounds passing clean through the elderly airframe before holing the port wing. Fuel begins to spray into a fine mist behind the bomber. In the Perspex bubble blow the cockpit the elderly navigator read the fuel dials, even in the heat of combat he needed to stay calm and perform his fuel calculations perfectly, the lives of the entire crew depended on it. He felt the shudder through the airframe as the enemy jets engaged them. Relying on his training his checked all the dials, paying close attention to hydraulic pressure and fuel remaining… one of the fuel dials was dropping at an alarming rate… he opened the internal radio link "sir! We are losing fuel!"
"Give me an estimate of flight time ASAP!" cried back the bomber co-pilot hysterically, the cockpit covered in the pulped mess that was his superior.
White 4 fell in behind the F-4, watching it strafe the bomber as he closed. His elderly Mig-21 had its active radar switched off, trying position himself for a missile lock…
Viper 11 swore, damn these bombers took a lot of killing… two runs of 20mm and the damn thing was still airborne, Mobius one had achieved a kill on his first attack run, the crew of the crippled bomber choosing to bail out rather than make for home… Viper 11 banked right, his missile lock warning was clear… looks like the rest of the fighter squadron was doing a good job engaging the escorts, reporting a fighter and two bombers down…
White 4 was sweating, he was at the edge of his range, in less than a minute he would have to bug out and RTB… the F-4 was dead in his sights, he switched on the missile guidance and heard the lock on tone, "white 4, Fox 1" he almost shouted as he hit the missile release…as soon as the missile had left its carriage, he broke right, heading home, his fuel warning light blinking…
The Shrill tone of the Missile lock on warning sounded deafening in Viper 11's ears, panicking he twisted his jet into a tight turn, deploying his chaff and flares as he turned to evade. It was a mistake, the missile, flew into the chaff cloud, the thin aluminum strips confusing its simple computer, making it lose its lock… its radar down, it locked onto the nearest heat source. The missile flew within 2 feet of the flare, locking on to the next one as it passed… it flew past two more flares before locking onto the phantom's left exhaust…
Viper 11 felt himself thrown inside his cockpit; before he recovered he heard the voice of Mobius 1, "Punch out Viper 11! Punch out!" his mind fuzzy, he automatically reached down to the ejection handle, pulling it hard…
Mobius 1 watched as Viper 11's ejection seat fired… taking him clear of his burning jet. The missile had destroyed everything behind the air intakes, its detonation clipping the phantom's wings…
"Skyeye, viper 11 is down, I see his chute" Mobius one reported distantly as he circled his fallen comrade...
"Roger that, rescue helicopter has been dispatched… continue to engage the bomber force."
"Sir, I estimate we have enough fuel to make it to the mainland, if we drop our load and turn back now…" The bear's navigator reported "we don't have enough fuel to make either the primary or secondary target"
"All right turning for home…" replied the Co-pilot. He supposed he was in charge now, his superior lay back in his chair, everything above his lower jaw decorating the bombers small interior…The lead bomber was gone too…
"This is black 2, Kaplan is dead, our fuel is out, we are heading home, forget the mission, we've lost too many bombers to complete it… everyone bug out and head for home...
"The remaining aircraft are withdrawing" Skyeye reported as the 4 remaining bombers turned south. "Well done everyone, I count 8 downed bombers and 3 dead fighters, what do you say allenfort?"
"Confirm that, we thought our runway was toast, our Rescue helicopter has been dispatched for your downed pilot"
"Roger that, all aircraft RTB"
White 4 gripped his flight stick, he had seen the phantom go down… his first kill of the war… he looked at his radar… only 4 of the bombers left… and the rest of his squadron was gone… he felt his eyes moisten at the thought of so many wasted lives in this dammed war…
Viper 11 cursed silently as he landed in the waves, he made a stupid mistake, he had stayed on the bomber too long… too obsessed with one target he had let a Mig sneak in on his tale… He inflated his life raft, no sense in staying in the water waiting for the sharks… overhead he could see the contrails of 4 bombers heading south, 2 of them we belching an unhealthy black smoke…they would be lucky to reach the mainland…
In one of the smoking bombers, the co-pilot of black 2 wiped the remains of his supirour off his controls… at least it was a quick way to go he thought as the bombedier dragged the body out of the seat, taking it towards the bomb bay. He silently thanked the older crewmember, nodding slightly as he took the commander out… his first combat mission had been a disaster, a total of 11 planes lost… including all the experienced interceptor pilots. White 4 had made it, for this he was thankful. He was just as green as him and it showed. His voice had been shaky when he had heard that the rest of his flight had been downed…
He cleared this throat before speaking to the rest of the bomber flight;
"All aircraft with bombs remaining drop your munitions before we reach landfall…"
With this instruction, the bombardier in each bomber primed each of the 2000 ibis bombs that filled mammoth bomb bay of each bomber.
"Opening bomb bay doors" Reported to bombardier as he turned the handle that manually exposed the bomb bay to the skies. As he pushed against the leaver, it came down with no resistance… some of Viper 11's gunfire had shredded the door controls...
"Markov here, Bomb doors are inop, we're going to have to land belly full" the bombardier reported as he climbed back towards the cockpit
Below them, the sea gave way to the coastline, the other smoking bomber's crew begin bailing out, their fuel exhausted, the bomber begin a slow tumble towards the ground. Within 20 minutes of them making landfall they were in sight of Wrigley.
"Wrigley AB here, white 4, black 3, 5 and 12 you are cleared to land, black 2, wait until the rest of the flight have made it down before you make your approach"
For 10 nerve wracking minutes, he watched the rest of the flight land; the Mig first, followed by the bombers… now it was their turn… He opened the radio link to the rest of the crew "Everyone get up to the cockpit, I don't know how badly damaged we are… and we still have a full belly, last thing we want is to die on the tarmac… get out as soon as we stop"
Two minutes later the 3 remaining crewmembers were crammed into the tiny cockpit, the navigator, bombardier and the rear gunner all looked towards the young co-pilot, it all depended on him now…
"Wrigley, this is black 2, starting our final approach, have fire and recovery ready for when we touchdown"
"Roger that black 2, runway is clear, good luck"
Turning off the radio the co-pilot gritted his teeth as he lowered the bomber to the runway; he started off his checklist… flaps check, landing gear check, brakes check…
He pushed the controls down, lowering his altitude to 200 ft before pulling the nose up and slowing his airspeed to 200 knots….
"Good, your on target" the controller commented as the crippled bomber approached the runway…
As the wheels of the elderly bomber touched the ground, the aircraft jerked as the left as the undercarriage collapsed under the bomber, the other 2 sets of wheels, unable to support the weight of the huge bomber collapsed as well, crushing the empty navigator's position. The bomber scraped along the ground, falling off the runway towards the control tower, its huge wingspan crushing a pair of parked Mig's before crashing into an empty hanger. The remaining fuel in the wings ignited, fireballing behind the main fuselage as it detached from the bomber… in the cockpit of the bomber the co-pilot was screaming as they approached the tower, panicked ground crew scattering as the wingless cylinder skated forwards, crushing a pair of starter tractors before coming to a halt scant feet from the control tower…
The co-pilot grinned as the plane came to a halt…before the bombardier threw him out the escape hatch…
Mobius One hit the carrier deck with a thud, the arrestor cable catching the heavy jet as it slowed in a manner more close to a controlled crash than a landing…
"Nicely done mobius one, those phantoms wallow like a brick on landing"
Climbing out of his cockpit, mobius one took off his helmet, smelling the distinctive smell of jet fuel and sea air… A kill to his name… he headed towards the ready room for a debrief and a coffee while the ground crew began too stow his Phantom below deck.
"Congratulations, the enemy bomber strike was repulsed" grinned the watch officer as the pilots sat sipping coffee. "I can also report that viper 11 was picked up by a search and rescue from allenfort." The officer shuffled his paperwork, finding the after action report." I will now announce the confirmed kills in order of rank: Omega 1 got a Bear and a F-5, Delta 3 got another bear and an assist on a second, Viper 9 got 2 bears, Omega 12 got 2 bears and a mig, Mobius one bagged a bear, Bravo 12 got a bear and an F-5. That's a total squadron kill list of 8 bear's, a pair of F-5's and a Mig 21. We lost a phantom to the other Mig… but otherwise a good performance, keep it up!"
"Sir? How many bombers escaped the battle area?" Asked Delta 3 from the back, the pilot was just 19 and his voice sounded unhealthy squeaky…
Before the watch officer could reply Omega 1 cut him off
"4 bears made it out, along with the mig who took down Viper 11, two of the bear's looked pretty beat up… they may not make it back to base" The veteran pilot cut in.
Scowling at Omega 1, the watch officer beginning to drone on technical details, an hour later he noticed that most of the pilots were asleep…
"Everyone you are dismissed, go get some rest, you are on air watch at 0800 tomorrow, dismissed"
At those words the dozen pilots staggered out of the room towards their bunks a few floors below for some well needed rest…
In the Viper 11 stepped off the Sea hawk onto the deck of the carrier, still soaking wet from his brief swim in the ocean. We waved off the navy helicopter crew, thankful for their quick response. He was still pissed at making such a stupid mistake, he had come in on the bomber flat and level, not even bothering to check his 6… he deserved to be dead… he had thought over the engagement on his way back to the carrier. He would not make the same mistake twice…
I wrote this up during my spare time and it's my first real attempt at a fan fiction, any input (good or bad) would be greatly appreciated. If you guys like my attempt, I may try going through the missions after.
Please note that i've changed a lot of the storyline/physics to make ace combat seem more "realistic", I hope I haven't done anything to destroy it…
My main aim is really to represent both sides in the war.
inspirations for this are Red storm rising by tom Clancy and Sky masters by Dale Brown.
Any input will be seriously considered since this is my first attempt of something of this scale