Chp. 33: The Changes of Spring

March 16, 2024

Over Northeastern Songola

Captain Rang Ji-hun of the Imperial Songolian Air Force nosed his Rafale SB up and snaked over the top of the plateau into the coastal plains at just above Mach 1. The weight of the wing tanks and Apache anti-runway weapons felt like it bent the wings with every move of the stick and he couldn't wait to be rid of them. He glanced to his left and saw his wingman keeping pace several kilometers off his seven o'clock. A second look went to his RWR and GPS readouts. The skies were relatively clear and most of the ground-based defenses that were transmitting were doing so carefully to avoid getting rained on by anti-radiation missiles. The E-7A Wedgetail that controlled them hadn't said a thing since the Osean F-22s on CAP had reached their stations.

"Next navigational point coming in 30 seconds, Rang." His backseater, First Lieutenant Geumg Kyu-chul, spoke up.

"Gotcha, 30 seconds." Rang replied.

A blink of the eye later, he pulled the Rafale into a hard left and settled on a northern course that took them between the main supply routes the Veruseans used. There wasn't a sign of life on the ground almost as far as the eye could see. Anything that wasn't part of nature was usually a wreck; a memory of the bloody advance by the communists down the coast.

"We are one minute from launch point." Geumg noted.

Rang acknowledged and checked to make sure the other five Rafales in the flight were on time to their destinations. His backseater fed the Apaches coordinates to the Verusean forward air base just north of the DMZ. At 15 seconds to their launch point, Rang ditched the wing tanks and pulled back on the Rafale's control stick. The fighter screamed into the broken clouds low to the land, then leveled out with a roll. It stayed in that position just long enough for Geumg to declare they were at their launch point, and that the missiles had all the information they needed.

"King 1-1, Rifle." Rang said as he depressed the launch button twice.

The two missiles fell away and the Rafale snapped left and down towards the ground again. The Apaches nosed down and descended, getting even closer to the earth than their launch platform. They reached their maximum speed of 760 mph and moved with the terrain whenever it changed even the slightest. Their route was timed to take around six minutes, which meant the Rafales would be long gone when they hit their target. The defenses around the small air base had little chance of catching them until the last minute, when a dozen objects crossed ino sight from the horizon. PGZ-07s defending the base immediately began filling the southern skies with rounds, but to little avail. The Apache and its Osean stablemate, the AGM-158 JSOW (Joint Stand-Off Weapon) had been some of the most loathed pieces of hardware to defend against. It was only merciful that they weren't as common (or cheap) as guided bombs and short-range missiles.

Four of the missiles overflew the runways of the facility, launching their submunitions down into the concrete with great force. Two more followed with submunitions that behaved more like mines than bombs, and the remaining six were used to pummel the soft structures on the air base. Aircraft in open revetments, fuel trucks, and the tarmac itself. Among those aircraft were four IL-76s filled with supplies that the Verusean advance desperately needed, as well as the trucks that would carry them south...

It was losses like this that made the regular reports on the strategic situation bleaker and bleaker. Wáng-Xú remained silent as General Chen reported on the overall progress of both fronts. Minister Guo, Minister Kuan and the Foreign Minister, Yao Xinian were all gathered around the table in the President's office. Li Yan, one of the ageing members of the Standing Council, sat away from the affair as Chen reported on the latest losses.

"...Over the past two days the Oseans, Shimojis and Songolians have attacked and destroyed five convoys trying to reach the Shimoji Islands. If we wish to move further inland on the main island, we'll need the supplies those transports had. Aircraft can bring in some, but only a fraction of what the ships will bring." The General explained.

"And what of our efforts to slow the flow of their supplies?" Wáng-Xú asked with arched brows.

"They remain largely ineffective. Efforts by our submarines are limited and attempts at air interdiction are near-impossible beyond attacking local support units. Few units were allocated to these efforts from the outset...the plan had been to secure our objectives before the Oseans could bring in significant reinforcements and supplies."

Chen watched his President with guarded stoicism. The man was steaming, that was easy to tell. Whether or not he'd take the blame for the situation was yet to be seen. When Wáng-Xú spoke again, Chen was inwardly relieved to see it was simply more questions...for now.

"What of our situation on both fronts?"

"Stalemate has spread across much of the Shimoji Islands, but it's a fragile stalemate. The Osean-Shimoji landings on Gianshu are of significant concern, as the island is home to one of the major deepwater ports we've seized."

"And in Songola?"

"In Songola, our forces moving along the western flank are starting to face the very real danger of being cut off from their supply lines. Follow-on forces also came under attack, likely in an effort to keep them from stopping the breakthrough to the south. We estimate at this point, that the Osean 25th Cavalry Division has been restored to strength. This brings the total power of the Osean forces in Songola to the equivalent of one army group…"

That didn't include the fact that the whole of the Songolian military and its considerable reserve force were mobilized. The reserve forces meant that more and more frontline forces could move to the north to meet the invasion. Wáng-Xú had also learned through Chen that the Songolians could turn just about every town and city in their country into a fortress. The major cities had become almost impenetrable. Progress had gone from dozens of kilometers a day to a few kilometers if they were fortunate. Chen had no shortage of praise for the soldiers, though. Their enemies weren't enjoying anything remotely easy trying to stop them. There were a variety of variables to consider, though; both militarily and politically. And economically, too...

"What are our numbers in terms of combat aircraft?" Wáng-Xú asked.

"For the Theater Commands involved, both are reaching critical levels. We do have the option to transfer more aircraft from our other commands, but that would take away from other command's ability to carry out their missions. If we need to, I would recommend the Northwest Command, as Kedhan does not have the capabilities to pose a significant threat to our territory. We could cut their force by up to 30% and allocate the aircraft as needed."

"And transport aircraft? Electronic Warfare?"

"To put it in perspective, Comrade President, both Commands currently have less than 45% of their forces available, and to prevent total enemy air superiority, we need them to be at 70% at least. In terms of supporting aircraft such as transports, tankers and patrol aircraft...each command has less than 20% of their original strength."

"What would it cost to rebuild those aircraft, Minister Guo? And what would the timeframe be?"

"Not favorable, I'm afraid...it would take weeks and cost us a great deal more than we can afford, even during wartime production. Pilot losses are also a concern."

Chen nodded in agreement; planes were easy to replace compared to pilots and other aircrew. Recruits, ultimately, drew from the able-bodied and meant that factories and other vital jobs would slowly be eaten away. Training new pilots also took a significant amount of time.

"General, I wish to see a full proposal for which air force units to transfer by tomorrow. In the meantime, what other measures do you reccomend?" The President asked.

"The Central Military Commission recommends that we reinforce them further; our forces on the main island are holding for now, and can be backed up by forces due to arrive later. It is my further recommendation, as well as that of the Central Military Commision, that we consider the mobilization of People's Militia units to provide further security and allow frontline units to move forward." Chen replied.

"And what of the demands that put external pressure on our economic situation, eh? These baseless claims of Sarin and escalation?"

Li Yan's sense of self-importance and feeling he could simply inject himself into the conversation flared the President's temper, but he raised a valid point.

"I have ordered that we ensure the process for the proposal set forth at the UN takes as long as possible. Long enough for doubt to rise." Wáng-Xú replied, forcing his respect.

Privately, he already had Yan and the other Zhongshan suit-wearing bastards as the ones behind the attempted deployment of Sarin. They had the authority to go around him, if only because they were seen as the wisest.

"And the Standing Council has your assurances that no such weapons were deployed? General Chen?" Li Yan added, anger evident in his wheezing tone.

"Yes, and General Chen concurs that no such order has been given. Should we find that someone circumvented the proper process, we'll be sure to punish them." Wáng-Xú replied, allowing himself to make an indirect threat towards the old man. In fact, he hoped it would reach the rest of the old men who clung to their positions like it gave them life.

"It is the further recommendation of the CMC that no such weapons be deployed. The Santa Elva and Bana chemical attacks both caused a political firestorm...and could potentially escalate the war well beyond our control. Especially with regards to Osea." Chen added. Guo nodded eagerly.

"I support the CMC's recommendations. Even deploying these weapons could cause a total economic blockade of the country. The people might be enticed to demonstrate." He said hurriedly. Li Yan snorted in amusement, cocking his head back so he was looking down at the Minister.

"The people have long learned the consequences for fermenting anti-revolutionary ideas."

"I will not throw the people of the nation beneath the treads of tanks how you old geezers did, Councilman Li Yan!"

Wáng-Xú was standing now, and his rage was as clear as day. Li Yan regarded him like a child having a tantrum.

"Is there anything else that needs to be discussed with the Standing Council?" The President hissed.

"...No, not at this time. The Standing Council awaits your announcement on what you plan to do. Only then will we rejoin this dialogue properly."

"Excellent...Minister Guo, do you have any further information to share?"

"Yes sir...despite the current situation, I would like to ask that an inspection team be sent to the Shimoji Islands to examine the potential resources we've discovered in the mountains surrounding Fusamone. I am aware that the original plan was to wait until the end of military operations, but I feel we need to consider alternatives. I have a proposal here for both General Chen and for you, Comrade President."

"Thank you, I'll review it as soon as this meeting is adjourned."

"All I have left to add is that Erusea promises its continued support, Comrade President. Ambassador Jie assures us that, to better our chances, he'll seek every possible avenue with nations still on the fence about this proposed inspection."

"Do any nations seem liable to come to our side? Our fraternal brothers in socialism? Leasath?"

Xinian's frown told the president all he needed to know. He drew in a frustrated breath, damning whatever Li Yan would think of it, and duly declared the meeting to be over. They would meet at the same time in five days for the same formality. Then men shuffled out; even the old Councilman seemed to have nothing to add. As they left, the president's secretary pulled General Chen aside to tell him he had a message. The officer nodded in thanks and went on his way, envelope tucked into the front pouch of his attache case. He sat down in the back of his limo and pulled the message from the case to read it. The President was certain of the man's loyalties, but he knew much of what he had in mind would require calculated risk taking…

The familiar roar of jet engines echoed through the plains and caught the attention of the HQ-16's battery commander. He cast his cigareet's remains into the bucket next to the command trailer and hurried up the steps to his post. His men were already tracking an incoming raid and trying to cut through the heavy jamming. According to one of his senior radar operators, it was a small force; possibly hunting for missile sites like them. The battery commander didn't take that to mean there wasn't danger afoot, though. The IRBM base, simply known as "Site 17", was a justifiably tempting target. But would they attack it? Either way, the battery commander craned his stubby neck to see what his subordinates saw.

"Two enemy aircraft splitting off with that EW source...130 Kilometers and closing." The lead controller replied.

"Altitude and Heading?" The commander replied.

"Estimate 5800 Meters, Heading is 255. They're heading right for us."

"Correction, targets maneuvering but maintaining approach towards our site." Another chimed in.

"Tell the tracking radars to remain off until ordered to switch on. Link to Site 17's radar picture if able to."

"Enemy rapidly approaching maximum range for anti-radiation missiles."

"Do we have any aircraft on the area that are able to assist?"

"Negative, will attempt to send a request through the jamming."

The "Battle of the Beams"teetered back and forth as the SAM site tried to use its own tools against the Osean jammer aircraft. The jammer hopped from frequency to frequency, staying only as long as its backseater picked up unfriendly systems transmitting. Rather than have its accompanying fighters use their HARMs on the main radar, it fired one of its own. The shot was well outside the reach of the Verusean missiles, but the EA-18 inevitably pushed closer to its designated station. As soon as the fire control radars came on, the two F-21s launched their HARMs at the signals. The first missile's impact was felt by the men inside the command trailer, while they were trying to contact the tracking radars that'd shut down. Realizing what was coming, the battery commander ordered his men to evacuate. It wasn't enough to stop what was coming, though. As the men fled the vehicle, bound for trenches to take cover in, a wave of explosions popped across the grasslands towards them. Cluster munitions were never kind to the human body…

"Alright Tex, looks like you're clear all the way in."

Wall's assurances did enough to comfort Mark, and his pride kept him from backing out. The last time he'd done a photo run over Verusa had been...that mission. He was assured there would be no sudden change of targets, no last-minute surprises. At least, not ones that his side could control. But a missile base was the target? This war was already fierce enough without both sides lobbing nukes and other forms of apocalyptic havoc! For once in a very, very long time he was more deeply questioning what was going on behind the scenes than usual. Still, he had a missile to fly; he hoped that the launchers were tucked away in their bunkers.

Mark selected the camera pod and descended to the proper altitude. There wasn't a lot of terrain to use; speed would be his main defense. The approach consisted of a lot of jinking and weaving against anything his RWR picked up. Dropping and raising altitude to seem unpredictable to the remaining defenses around the base.

"Shogun 1-1 is at IP...in hot." He reported.

Two batteries of PGZs raked the sky in random intervals and directions while he squeezed between a gap in their current pattern. Mark slinked below the altitude he'd need to be at for good pictures until he was mere seconds from the facility. It almost looked abandoned with none of the DF-26s outside (though Mark had to thank The Maker for that detail). All he could see were support vehicles, trucks to fuel the missile carriers. He nosed up and screamed over the missile base, recon pod snapping pictures at blistering speed. Technicians and soldiers dove for cover, thinking it to be a bomb run. Nothing fell, though. The lone jet banked left, trailing flares as the base's close-range defenses tried to catch it. All it took with it were images people in very high places were in need of.