Fort Grays Island
'Four guys between our squads. Oh man, we are in bad shape.' Clown muttered as he and Knocker witnessed the last of their squadron members touch down on the main runway. Six at the start of the war, surged to twelve following the rescue of President Harling, and now they were down to four. A series of failed offensives and desperate defenses had seen to that.
'It's enough to contribute to something.' Knocker sighed. He was in a perpetual state of depression, had been since Operation Dual Wielder. Skeleton Squadron, Brownie, Trigger, the 242nd Wing getting effectively wiped out, the losses were constantly mounting.
'Come the end of the month, their losses wouldn't have been in vain.' Clown tried to reassure his wing commander. He patted Knocker on the shoulder.
'One can only hope.'
OFS Vulture II
As the Vulture II and her escort group were returning to the fleet base at Seals Bridge, Talon found herself inspecting the carrier air wing's aircraft assembled on the flight deck. CVW-45 were at full strength with 60 strike and fighter pilots and 30 of all other types. Those fighters were mostly Lightning IIs, but there were some Super Hornets lined up in there. Her bad arm started aching. She held it to her chest and rubbed it. The ache quickly went away. Someone coughed behind her. Talon turned around. It was Commander Tyler Keith, Lance, Razor's squad lead and the airwing executive officer.
'Sore arm?' Lance asked, arms crossed on the deck. Zoe shook her arm around as if trying to knock out a crink.
'Might be. How's Razor looking?' Talon stopped flopping her arm about to shoot a question at Lance.
'Well-rested and ready to kick some ass.' Lance was adamant that his squad was ready for the coming fight.
'Good to hear. God knows we need the action.' Talon said as she turned out to face the bow of the carrier. Lance walked up next to her.
'When was the last time you saw combat? Stonehenge?' Lance had to ask. He had been out of the picture for a while.
'If we're talking specifics, I helped with the ASAT operation during Farbanti.'
'Doesn't count.'
'It doesn't count?' Talon giggled.
'Doesn't count.' Lance cranked his neck.
Silverfish
Alex threw his kitbag up into the cockpit of his Su-33. On the catapults at the front of the carrier, Snow launched in his F-14D while Long Caster was in a Hawkeye, the ubiquitous E-2C. Alex watched the two aircraft fly out beyond the horizon towards Shilage. When he turned around, he was met by Grimm standing behind him.
'Going so soon?' Grimm asked.
'No reason not to.' Alex replied. He stood by for a moment, waiting for some kind of question. When he didn't get one, Alex took the initiative. 'You should head back to the Orca, check on everyone else. I'll be fine. I've got Marcus and Long Caster at my side.'
'I'm worried that they're playing the long run. A few C4 charges and we're all stranded.' Grimm was hesitant about Alex's plan. The latter shrugged.
'They might be Eruseans, but we've both got a common enemy. They'll stick to the plan.' Alex reassured the major.
'For all our sakes, I hope you're right.' Grimm wasn't convinced but went along with it anyway. Alex climbed the ladder and stepped into the cockpit of his aircraft.
'Call it when you're coming in.' Alex said to Grimm before shutting the canopy. Grimm sighed, grinned and departed the flight deck for the Orca. The ships would be returning to Seals Bridge, and then the LRSSG with their land-based aircraft would fly out to Shilage. The Emmerians would not be joining. Once they had handed off the LRSSG's kit, Silverfish and her carrier group would be going home.
At least, that was the memo that Grimm got.
When he got back to the Osean Invincible-class carrier, he saw a few foreign objects. A new F-15E, a couple of Emmerian F/A-18Fs and a foreign drone covered over by a tarp. In the middle of this clusterfuck of aircraft, stood Talisman and two other pilots. Grimm froze when he saw them. Talisman caught him looking. She waved to the major. Grimm waved back before returning to his duties.
Airspace west of the Cormona Islands
An F-22, an F-15EX and an Su-37 departed from Cormona. A Federation Usean, a Belkan and an Erusean. Three of the best. Mobius led the formation as they left Cormona and headed for ISAF headquarters at the Twinkle Islands. To Mobius's right hand wing, Cipher reached into one of his chest pockets and extracted a phone. He needed to make a call. He dialed one of his contacts and waited for the person on the other side to pick up. After a minute Cipher got a response.
'Hi, is this the contact number for Larry Foulke?'
OFS Merlin (Hubert-class aircraft carrier)
The Spring Sea
Wearing the typical aviator uniform, Vice Admiral Tahir Logan adjusted the straps on his carryall bag as he walked down the ramp of the C-2 Greyhound that had just brought him to the OFS Merlin. The commanding officer of the carrier, a Captain, saluted Logan as he officially boarded the ship. Logan returned the salute.
'Welcome to the Spear of the Navy, sir.' The captain greeted the admiral.
'She's looking sharp. How's the airwing looking?' Logan asked. The captain turned around and using one arm indicated around the flight deck. Logan followed along and looked. Super Hornets, Tomcats and Lightnings. The average VFA composition these days. There were a few pilots hanging around. At least one of them recognised the presence of a flag officer.
'Six other carriers just like ours with similar loadouts, all ready for the big mission.' The captain said. He noticed Logan's uniform. 'Pardon me, sir, but are you seriously going out there?'
'Aren't you?' Logan asked sarcastically. He knew the answer. The captain was old by Navy standards, but he wasn't old guard like Logan was, back when carrier captains were former aviators.
'If you say so.' The captain accepted that fact. 'We've got a few spare aircraft to choose from. Take your pick.'
