I would like to thank Sable Cold for taking on the impressive job of being the Beta Reader for this book. As always reviews are welcome. If you find this is easier to read and follow. Thank Sable Cold and all of his hard work
I do not own Battlestar Galactica or have any connection with them, other than I have seen the shows. And it was a long time ago. I also do not own or have input into the game of Rifts. I don't even play the game. But I do own copies of some of the books, and I have used them for this story.
Chapter 5 Gust front
Day 6 outside of Fanlu township blue road 18 east of main highway 3
The sun was coming up, but it had not yet spread its rays onto this side of the mountain. Rex had been sleeping for most of the night, still wrapped up in his battered body armor when the rain started. Heather, in her western styled body armor, was dozing behind him. They were back-to-back, using each other as a prop to keep them both from falling over in their sleep or rolling around in the mud. His alarm clock built into his brain went off and he came back to the world of sound, blood, and pain like he had never left it. When he started to move Heather woke up also. She was still with him, and so was a Sergeant from the SF team. The last one after the loss of the Master Sergeant the day before.
Adding and keeping a regular army unit with the team had worked out great over the last few days. Some of the other mixed Colonial and SF units did not have that support for the first few days of the war. All of the ROC SF units had been hit hard, mostly by being swarmed and pulled out of their Colonial made body armor limb by bloody limb. They were not taken alive to some POW camp and there were half a dozen videos of them having their throat slits by someone in the PLA after being dogpiled and held down.
Now all of the mixed Colonial or Colonial equipped SF teams had squads of understrength infantry or a scout platoon from the regular army to support them. Today would be the second day that all of the active two person teams would have their escorts. Rex had been dreaming of the six faces from this deployment that he would not be seeing again.
They had died different ways, but three of them had been killed by being hit with close ranged shots from large cannon fire. So far, all of their equipment and bodies had been recovered by the ROC's forces, sometimes at a huge expense of more blood and ammunition. He had been told that the outer armor had held out the worst of the damage from the huge cannons, but that their internal organs had been damaged by the shocks of the massive hits from 125mm cannons at knife fighting range. He was not sure how the other three had died. He expected that this information would come out later, when they had a full AAR and maybe gotten some real sleep in a real bed. Rex had to go to all fours before he could force himself into a standing position. He was feeling every day and every battle that he had lived through.
His body hurt in places that he did not have names for. He also had not had his helmet on while sleeping last night. He had wanted to feel the air on his sweat salt stained hair. After so many hours in combat, he felt that it was worth the risk.
Now that he was on his feet, he looked and ran his fingers down the front of his body armor. No longer was it painted to blend into the woodlands common on this island. Most of the newly applied paint had been blasted or more often burnt off of the hard armor surface. He also had nicks, dings, and more than a few all-out dents on the front and back of his torso armor, arms, and legs, and even his helmet would show signs of the last few days of battle.
He knew that if he and his people did not get pulled out of the battle lines soon, they were going to lose effectiveness as a combat force. Then again, he knew that if his people were pulled out, the whole island might be lost. Or more to the point, enough might be lost that the ROC military might not be able to take it back from the Chinese invaders.
They were in the foothills of the mountains near the same highway that they had force-marched down what seemed like months ago. They were in the woods and away from any targets that the Chinese might be trying to go after. The Chinese artillery had been a steady rain of steel like nothing he had seen before in his life. Rex had read about steel rain a few times in pre-dark age books and more about the history of this world. It was one thing to read about it, but to find out what it was like was a completely different experience. Then there was living through one of those barrages.
He had already passed along to the Colonial dominated military that it needed to work on ground based weapons to counter air attacks, artillery attacks, as well as what they were calling human wave attacks for days on end. He had no idea what the fixes might be and truth be known, he did not care right now. His brain was too tired to work on something like that at the moment.
He had only been totally out of his Dead Boy armor once since leaving the Colonial building back at the ROC Navy base. He slowly started stretching to get the blood flowing to the right places and kind of get his muscles ready for the next round of abuse that was sure to come. With a wet thud, he put his helmet back on. He needed to check in while he was stretching out his body. He could not afford to do only one thing at a time, not in a warzone like this.
His mind went back to the one time he had been fully out of his armor as he did his systems check. He knew that he had a goofy smile plastered on his face under the skull-like helmet. It was that first night after fighting all day and living through it. They were using the single story building to keep the rain off of them. Having some kind of rainfall every other day was normal for this time of year on this island. She did not exactly jump his bones, but she did make both the first and the second move on him after checking to see if they were alone in the half-wrecked building.
After that, it was all a blur. Both of them had been coming off relationships that had ended badly after having stuck with them too long. He had a girlfriend off planet but they had broken it off. It was the same two reasons that killed most relationships, kids and money. Heather had separated from her husband because he could not keep his zipper closed and it was not always with her. After a few times of those games, she had thrown him out. Then she asked for an assignment to the Trading Outpost just to get away from him and the other women. Rex had no idea if this relationship would last but he was accepting that it was what it was in the battlefield.
Heather had just finished her own stretching and stopped moving. She turned to look over at Rex and tilted her head. She held up one finger, not the middle one, and wagged it at him like he was a naughty schoolboy. She must have felt him staring at her as she was going about her own morning system checks. He gave her a shrug and walked away stiff legged to find the teams go-between with higher ROC command.
The ROC army had lost the main highway connecting north and south the other day. It must have been planned for for some time, because it was not a road now. Now it was a killing field, and it was reaping a huge harvest of blood and pain mostly from one side of the lines. What was left of the ROC defending units were now in the tree line overlooking the wide open, flat with little cover field that had once been a major highway running north-south.
Things had not gone all the ROC's way, but they were still in the fight. A fight that most would not have thought they could have lasted a few days in, much less a week. And they were still taking more of the enemy's blood than they were losing. The question was how long they could keep it up.
The amount of Chinese controlled artillery fire landing on the island had been a surprise for the first few hours after they had revealed themselves. Fortunately it had not been a total surprise. The ROC army had been holding back a few of its own artillery units just for counterfire missions on the enemy long shooters. Those held back units had been overloaded, but they had put as many rounds or missiles down range as they could. They just had too many targets to service, so to the people on the ground it looked like they were all alone without any heavy fire support. The counter battery units were racking up huge kill numbers of their own as they kept taking out Chinese artillery systems. Things looked like they had broken all of the Chinese invaders' way, but they only looked that way.
The 1st Ground Army was now ashore, and its commander was not a happy camper as he looked at the maps displaying the battlefield. His big assault, which should have let him link up all of the separate landing areas into one big mass of Chinese forces, had failed. Not only had it failed, it had failed in all four areas that he had ordered attacked. It had been bloody and costly in ammunition on top of being a failure. He had also lost a full brigade of heavy equipment in those assaults. His prime firepower unit, the 10th Armored Division, had lost four full battalions of tanks and armored personnel carriers alone. Those numbers were the equipment totals that could not be returned to battle and were at best only going to be useful for spare parts to repair other damaged combat units.
The next hardest hit major unit was his artillery division. The hits to this unit had not been all at once but had come here and there from counterbattery fire after his units shot into the ROC defensive lines. So far, they were down eighteen artillery pieces that could not be repaired with the division's and army's on hand spare parts. At one point in the day, they had been down over thirty weapon systems, but after some hard work and skills honed from a year long civil war, they had gotten almost half of them back in operation of some fashion. The latest report from his supply general said that this one effort had depleted most of the spare parts for those types of units. From now on, they would be using captured equipment as replacements or as a source of repair parts for the rest of his artillery weapons. Many of his rocket firing weapons did not have full use off all of their launching tubes due to counterfire fragmentation damage.
He also was very upset with the People's Liberations Army Air Force. That unhappiness had come after the PLAAF liaison told him that he would be getting but a third of the ground attack assets that had been planned to support this part of the invasion. He had almost physically thrown the Air Force liaison out of the headquarters tent after that briefing. To make up for that loss he was going to have to use attack and armed scouting helicopters a lot earlier than he had planned. He had hoped to keep the rotor assets for the assault into the capital or plugging the mountain roads that split the island. Oh and that should be after most of the imperialists had launched their stock of surface to air missiles.
The Army commander let his staff know about the change of plans that they were going to have to work around. All so that first thing in the morning he could have some air support to push the ROC Army away from the last major north to south artery on this side of the mountains. So far, the ROC ground based air defense on the front lines had been light. Nevertheless the overall Chinese commander was betting that if he was going to be getting fewer ground attack jets, there would also be fewer of the Warlord's covering fighters over his head.
Also, if there were fewer of his CAP fighters around, then the so far missing enemy attack helicopters might decide it was safe enough to come out and play. So, along with his guidance to his staff about using the organic attack assets needed for tomorrow's attack, he also made sure that his organic air defense assets were ready to provide cover from any enemy airborne attack to his frontline. He also requested that mainland support units R2 through R6 all be shifted from strategic attacks to his direct control. He would hand over targeting control for one gun or R site to each of the divisions under his command. The rest he would keep for his staff to use as they saw fit on other targets.
He did not know if he would get them or not, but it never hurt to ask for the car keys. What was the worst that higher command could say? No. It was worth the shot to ask for those special weapons. When the sun rose the next day, they would have to see what happened. If he was not given those assets, then he had something to blame any future failures on.
Rex and Heather along with the two remaining members of the original SF team and their escort were looking out across the killing field as the sun's rays reached them after rising over the mountains behind them. The artillery rockets and shells were still falling all along the defensive line as far as they could see, deep into the treeline behind them. The four heavily armed and armored personnel were using helmet or handheld optics to scan the local area. It was going to be up to them to know when and where they would be most effective.
The higher ROC command thought that this was going to be the focus of enemy ground attacks today. Rex and his team were to plug any leaks if the attack took place and all of this was not some kind of feint. Rex took it as his job to take on any targets that he could see. When he told Heather and the SF duo this line of thinking, he was only a little surprised that they agreed with him. Rex just hoped today would be different from the way the last few days had been. He hoped that he would not have to sprint up and down the line all day again. It they had to, they would do just that because that was the job, but he hoped otherwise.
Rex was scanning the battlefield closely and he had just started looking closely at a new area when movement caught his eyes. He was so tired that he didn't know why his mind had been drawn to it. Then he noticed that the movement was not on the ground. He waited until he thought that he had a good idea of what was going on before letting the rest of the team know of the flying objects to their front.
"Okay people, looks like there will be some slow movers providing air support for this attack. MANPAD team, you're up. Heather and I will be back up if they make a gun run on us. Two Lees you both stay down for now."
The first two escort teams Rex had worked with had at least had a pair of man portable ATGM's like Javelins or something of that type. They were not used that often, and the gunners and loaders had gotten more use from their rifles than the heavy missiles they were carrying on their backs. The Colonial and SF team was taking out all of the armor that was within line of sight of the four of them.
After they lost the second attached ATGM team and the extra missiles they had been carrying without even getting to use any of it in combat, a man portable air defense team (MANPAD) was added to the escorts in their place. The SAM team still used their rifles from time to time but they also took out a Xian JH-7 Flying Leopard or Flounder as it was known to the west, as well as a Q-5 Fantan fighter bomber. That was not bad, four missiles taking out two attack jets. It also made any jet want to keep away from that area of the battle. The cherry on top was that they had not lost the SAM team. The ATGM teams were needed anyplace along the line that did not have a heavy assignment of Colonial personnel or ROC soldiers packing Colonial tech weapons.
The MANPAD team didn't have to say anything at the orders they had just been given. They just moved behind the nearest large tree and got their two SAM missiles ready. Slow movers were the names given for any enemy helicopters and they were a lot easier for this crack SAM team to remove from the skies of their island. Each one soon had a US made or local built 'Stinger 2+' SAM up on their shoulders, as they crouched behind the tree for some concealment. They started scanning for a target flying low around the burning city to their front. It did not take long for the slow movers to be found by the pair of searching eyes.
The attacking craft were a mixed group of about a dozen helicopters that were flying between large buildings or just over the tops of smaller ones. They all were attack type helicopters Z-11's and Z-19's mixed in with some of the very deadly WZ-10's. The WZ-10's had been racking in kills on the ROC armored units at an impressive rate. Without thinking about it, two of these attack choppers were picked out of the enemy group. Within a few seconds the infrared tracking systems beeped to let the humans know the Stinger 2's were ready to shoot at the targets in their field of view. The two missile men super elevated the launchers, and then pulled the trigger. The twin smoke trails were only two seconds apart leaving the tree line.
When the shooters tilted their launch tubes high into to the air, the old school first stage booster motor pushed the 22-pound pipe out of the larger pipe that was the SAM launcher. This was the same pusher motor that had been with the system for decades and was the only smoke generating and easily visible part of launch. That small booster motor was supposed to just get the missile out of the tube and away from any friendly troops. It was burned out before its more powerful main rocket or sustainer motor could fire safely.
With the coming of the Colonials to this planet, technology dealing with rockets had seen its own rocket pace of improvement. With over ten thousand Stinger surface to air missiles built so far and given the cost and length of time it would take to replace them all just to utilize the new generation of main rocket motor, the ROC Government made the only choice that made sense or cents. It was decided to just modify the system using a new and different model of sustainer motor. At the depot level they changed the weapons' first rocket motor made decades ago. The older rocket motors were sold on the open market for things like rocket sled testing devices around the world.
Replacing these old motors was simply a matter of taking the missile out of the launcher/storage tube in a dry and well lit place. Skilled workers could then remove the eight fasteners and take off the older or damaged sustainer motor in order to replace it with an updated motor. They would then work backwards from there until the weapon was ready to go back into the storage/launcher tube. The last step was updating the software on the missiles for the higher speeds on the launcher device. The version of Stinger that this two-man team had just used was not the latest and greatest version of these venerable weapons. It was two updates behind the current fielded model for most first world nations. What that meant was that when the larger motor fired off and out of the tube, it still left a slight smoke trail and its top speed was only around Mach 3 at sea level. It would also be limited to a range of only a dozen kilometers or so for its all-aspect scanner.
Modern, and even before the Colonials came to this planet, high value or just high-priced military equipment had defenses of some kind against certain types of attacking missiles. They ranged from flares, jammers, dazzlers, and counter missiles to dropped or towed decoys of different types. The key part in all of those systems was that they had to detect the attacking missiles first. With radar guided and laser guided systems, this was not hard as long as the right kind of sensors were available. With IR guided weapons, the target needed an active radar and a pair of very good eyes to see the attacking missiles heading one's way. Other than that, the target was only along for the ride until he was hit or had a close detonation of the IR weapon. Then he had better hope for the joys of an ejection seat E-ticket ride into the slipstream.
With the new generation of rocket motors coming on the market so fast, these systems had to be updated quicker. A lot quicker than at any other time in the history of guided missiles. The Chinese had not thought about the improved speeds of the SAM threat. They had been focused on sensors for so many years that it had slipped by them. That meant that that the two missiles, moving at well over the speed of sound only thirty meters off the ground, hit their twin targets square on without that much of a problem. The six-pound warheads blew the closest turbine engine and rotor heads right off the two WZ-10 attack helicopters like masking tape on a supersonic flying jet airplane. The twin crewed craft fell to the ground and they just happened to end up crashing on top of their own countrymen staging for a fresh attack on the ROC forces.
What was the first warning to the rest of the Chinese helicopters that they were under attack? It was when two of their friends blew up and then crashed into the wreckage of the city below them. The rest of the attack aviation unit did just what their training told them to do. The pilots went lower and started flying evasively around the nearby buildings and any surviving trees. Their gunners manually activated their built-in countermeasures and soon flares and chaff were popping out of the sides and bottoms of the rest of the helicopter attack force. This took only a few seconds to complete, and then the helo crews started to look for where the threat had come from. This is where the faint smoke trails from the ROC launched missiles came to be important in this little operation.
Rex knew from yesterday that any smoke that was left behind by the launch of the SAM's would draw the attention of the invaders. That was not a bad thing for Rex because he had planned on the smoke being seen by the enemy. As soon as his MANPAD Team, both named Sergeant Lee, had shot their first missile each, they reached down and picked up their second and last pair of missiles with launcher tubes. It was now up to Heather and Rex to thin the soon to be attacking herd of very angry attack helicopters. As Rex had hoped, the enemy flying machines saw the smoke and flew toward it hoping to exact some revenge for their two fallen comrades.
Now, shooting a rifle at a flying target was hard to do if you wanted to hit it and was only used as a last resort. Rangemasters around the world also looked down on you when you tried to practice this skill. What was working for Rex and Heather were a few things. One was that they had speed of light weapons and thus they did not have to lead their targets. Their targets were also flying right towards them with little thought put in about a way of moving out of the line of any enemy fire. The last thing that helped the pair of people not born on this planet was that the weapons they were using did not leave visible signs to warn the attackers that they were being fired upon.
Rex and Heather lined up on a random closing helicopter and kept squeezing the triggers until they hit the target. Of the two, Rex had the better targeting system built into his weapon while Heather was the better natural shot. Very rarely had they needed to fire a third shot at one of those closing flying targets. Attack helicopters are the most heavily armed type of helicopter in the world but it is a fine line between carrying more weapons and carrying more of the heavy armor to survive on the battlefield. The Chinese central committee and the Warlord later just had not had the time or resources to even look at the issue in the last few years. They just kept making whatever they could in the way of helicopters.
It did not take long for the two non-local troopers to have five of the attacking helicopters down on the ground as smoking wrecks added to what the two SAM's had created. By this time the attacking Chinese airborne systems were over the ROC defensive lines and almost to the tree line where the smoke from the SAM was leading them. The fading smoke trails were soon added to by two new and fresh ones. The WZ-10 on the far right and another one on the far left of the attacking gaggle only had time enough to flinch at the new attack before the ROC SAM's punched through their armored glass cockpits and the warheads detonated in a couple of someones' lap. The pair of gunships were soon on the ground burning and joining the other seven members of their unit.
With the range closed and the knowledge of confirmed targets in the area, the rest of the attacking ships fired their cannons and let loose with rockets and guided missiles into the tree line. Just whatever the helicopters' gunners were pointing at was good enough to saturate the area. It was blind firing, and the only ones in the area were Rex, Heather, the twin ROC SF's and the two MANPAD operators. The two lightest armored of the group were already hiding in deep and narrow foxholes before their last pair of surface to air missiles had hit their targets. The other four just rolled into a nearby slit trench until the attacking gunships had overflown them. The attacking helos were still firing as they overflew their now hidden tormentors.
Rex grinned under his armored faceplate. He thought that everything had gone according to plan, even if it was a just a bit hotter than he thought it would be when he had first heard about the staging helicopter assault force in the area. There were two main parts to the defenders' plans this morning. First was that all that firepower and heavy weapons fire was being dropped on to a very thinly populated area instead of the ROC Army's main line of resistance.
The attacking craft only had a limited number of weapons that they could carry at one time. So, the survivors would have to return to their bases to reload. This would take almost all of the helicopters out of the battle zone for a few hours at least. The second part of Rex's crazy plan was that pilots were high value items for the Chinese. New attack helicopter pilots could not just be wished into being, so the Chinese were sure to try to recover them. And they would use a lot of assets to recover those highly trained and hard to replace aircrews. That was what Rex was waiting on as the gunships retreated over his head one more time.
After the shadows had stopped crossing the lip of his hole in the ground, Rex looked up and over the lip of the shallow trench to see the surviving Chinese helicopters retreating over their lines once more. He could see lines of tracers from light and heavy machineguns trying to bring down or at least damage a few more of the bug like craft as they pulled back over the Chinese lines. Not all of the shots the ROC units were sending out were in vain. Rex could see where some of the ROC weapons strikes had drawn a fresh stream of smoke out of one of the retreating aircraft. If it made it back to a base, it was going to be some time before it was ready to rejoin the battle.
When he lost sight of them behind the buildings of the city below him, Rex looked across the battlespace from left to right. He quickly counted eight wrecked enemy craft that he could see near him. Those were not all of the wrecks he could see. There were more pillars of smoke from maybe another half dozen. It would seem that some of the local commanders had gotten in on this distraction.
The aircrews were still trying to get out of those nearby wrecks, but they were not drawing fire from the ROC's side of the lines. Those mainland aircraft crews did not know it yet but they were in deep trouble. They thought that since they were so close to their lines, they were safe from the ROC forces. Rex remembered a line that he read about bomber aircraft in the 1940's wars. "You don't bail out over the people you just bombed. They will not like you very much." The Chinese aircrews were about to find out the validity of this saying in a few short minutes.
The ROC army did not have time for them just yet. That also meant that they did not have time to send any help to pull any of the wounded crews out of the wreckage. Wreckage that now had quickly growing fires supplied by the damaged fuel tanks. The climbing flames did make the Chinese attack force change direction in a choppy wave and got them to attack the ROC lines before they were ready.
This time the Chinese attack units would not be able to hide behind falling explosive and smoke making rounds from their significant artillery assets. Rex took a steady firing position, and he knew that Heather was doing the same not too far away. The shots they were going to be taking were at over 300 meters. Most of the time it was going to be closer to 600 meters to reach the enemy attackers. These were going to be very long shots, even against targets that were between two and 3 meters tall. He might be standing still but his targets were not.
It was the sound carrying over the air that told Rex the main attack was under way. It was not the big guns of the foreign army but the rising number of small arms joining the battle. Rex took up a good hold on his weapon and waited for something to put his laser sight on, something that was worth the effort of his weapon. He would only have to wait for about a minute and a half before the first enemy tank-like target was visible to him.
The tank was at one time painted in a mix of greys and light blues that was supposed to help it blend into a city environment. Through Rex's weapon mounted scope, he could make out damaged areas along the turret and what looked like a few burnt areas on the tank's main hull. The tank was at an angle to him and this made it look a little bigger than if it had been a straight on shot. Rex pulled the trigger, and nothing happened to his target. He had to fire three aimed shots to hit the moving tank once. That one hit was all he needed, because that one shot ended that tank as a threat to his side of the battle lines.
Now, more and more armored tracks and wheeled vehicles were in full view of his fighting position. Heather was doing her thing, and Rex was doing his. The front ROC trench line defenses were punched through in a few places by the wave of attackers but anything larger than a person was targeted by the pair of warriors not born on this planet. At this range the Colonial made weapons the ROC had were not of any use for hitting heavy targets but they could get lucky and keep the heads of any group that they put under fire down.
Rex and Heather were both averaging four shots to hit a target at this range. Soon they were on their second and third E-clip to keep their weapons firing. A second wave of attacking helicopters came over and this time, they were met with more than two surface to air missiles as they closed on the ROC's main line of resistance. One Helicopter attack unit had started the day with twenty-four gunships. By that afternoon, they were down to a dozen machines. Then again, they were not the only attack aviation unit the Warlord had sent over.
In the late afternoon, the ROC line broke and the PLA rolled through what remained of the isolated defenders. That is, until the Chinese army ran into the full firepower of Rex's team and the localized reinforcements that were waiting on them. The counterattack by the ROC forces carried them back to the original lines the Chinese and ROC had started at when the sun first came up. A whole lot of people had died for nothing.
It was just after sunset when Rex and his team made it back to the place that they had camped at the night before. When they came slogging back into area they had slept in, it had about forty more people than when they left that morning. A line giving out hot food was about a hundred and fifty meters from the mixed force's assigned sleeping areas. These few were the lucky ones. Most of the combat troops had not come off the line and would be having a cold meal... at best.
Rex made sure the rest of the team got a meal of hot rice with some unknown kind of meat chunks in it for dinner. Before he could call it a night, he had to check in with both his superiors and the ROC. It was going to be unhappy news that he was going to have to report to them. His team was going to have to pull out the next day for resupply.
Between Heather and himself, they had only four fully charged E-clips left, and they were not the long ones but rather the lower capacity normal sized ones. The only reason they had been loaded into their gear had been to support their energy pistols. They could and would be used in the rifles, but they would not last long. The last of their long E-clips with any charge were now in their rifles. The way he phrased it to the ROC division commander, they were down to short-ranged weapons only. The ROC general knew that the Colonial sold pistols that were as good as anti-tank cannons, so the first line Colonial sidearm should be even better. The local ROC commander knew that if he needed them, they would go into combat again. Even if it was only with pistols in their hands. But there would be both a political and military fallout if he ordered them to stay in the front lines.
The sun was setting over Taiwan, but that did not mean that the battle over about who was going to control the island was going to be any less intense. With the continual rain of ballistic missiles and what was now identified as long range rail gun fire, the ROC could not support enough of its own forces with its airfield under this intermittent attack. They were hard pressed to keep their remaining aircraft in operation with the limited runways and other landing areas still in operation. And that was only because of the herculean effort done by the ground crews and hundreds of civilian volunteers. The defenders of Taiwan were in trouble, and that was when the United States finally was able to step in to help the island nation.
The President and the people he represented were upset. Like one step below launching ICBM's and making a major part of China into the largest exporter of black glass ever known to man upset. First use rule be dammed was polling high in the country. By day three of the invasion of Taiwan messages were sent to the beleaguered nation's command structure that runways, hangars, and as much support as they needed could and would be there. It would not be much but it would be a start. It would build up as help became available from the ROC's other allies.
Slowly at first, but steadily increasing over time, aircraft started to run low on fuel. They would not line up to return to their home bases, but a few would be diverted to one of the airbases on Okinawa or Laoag International Airport in the Philippines. Every few hours, fewer and fewer operational aircraft were left on the island to be supported. Only the bases with the Colonial made KEW was not drawn down. With a few safeish bases, the ROC combat aircraft were more effective after a day of rest.
Starting on the fourth day, tactical cargo planes or cargo planes that could land on the damaged short runways made an appearance over the island. It was a long flight, so only those aircraft with midair refueling capability could make the round trip. They would land carrying a few containers of 30mm KEW rounds and emergency supplies of whatever had been asked for and was available on short notice. The US sent almost all of the 30mm KEW that they had on hand, joined by almost half of what the Colonials had as on hand supply.
Each plane would land and then unload its cargo at one end of the landing strip. Then it would be loaded up with wounded and any civilians that could be squeezed in between the blood-soaked stretchers. Any fuel that could be pulled out of the craft's tanks would be pumped into the base's tanks, if there was time. Once the air was clear of enemy fire or craft, the cargo plane would roll out and fight to get back into the air. It would have a date with the escorting fighter screen for the growing airborne tanker fleet before it would start the slow flight to a friendly base.
The ROC Air Force was not working alone or at least feeling like they were alone anymore. They were now being supported by American and Japanese command and control aircraft, as well as tankers crewed by those same countries. There were not that many of those types of aircraft in the area when the war started but more were coming in from Hawaii and the mainland United States. USAF units from Osan Air Base in Korea and all over Japan were working up to a full court press. While they had been running small missions, they had been working out issues with the growing group of Taiwan supporters. The USAF always likes to say they ruled the night, and for almost two generations, they had. Now it was time for a new generation to see if they had what it took to keep that title hard won by generations before them.
Today's mission was going to not only support Taiwan, but was also going in to attack different areas on the mainland. Areas that were under the control of the Warlord, or whichever areas the long range missiles were being launched from to support this attack. The USAF was taking care of the northernmost flank. They would attack one area at time to protect their bases and the countries they were based in. Then they would slowly expand the areas they were attacking as they ran out of worthwhile targets. They were also going to lower the number of aircraft that were available to be used against anyone.
The US Navy had a bigger job on their hands. They had more assets to work with after all. The US Navy was looking for blood. It had taken them some time to get every ship in some kind of useful order after the surprise attack. Its fast attack submarines already had been getting in some payback from the warlord's forces, but it was slow and not very satisfying to the average USN crewman.
Now its anti-submarine craft were hunting with help from the locals giving them somewhat safe airfields to base from. Most of these craft were very slow and they had long flights to get them into the areas that they needed to, but they had crews willing and eager to do the job. They were protected by a few of the fighters that had been able to make it off their carriers or had been flying before their bases were sunk by the surprise Chinese attack of dozens of HGV weapons. Both aircraft types had been able to get some payback after only a few missions but the US Navy had a lot of red on the ledger that needed to be made up. Now they were ready, and it was going to be a heavy hammer that they were going to use to start getting some major payback for the sneak attack.
The escorting warships from both carrier battle groups had made it to port without further losses. They had transferred all of the people they pulled off the two massive ships and the water after they went down. Now those escorts were free for other tasks. It was an impressive fleet moving out of Japanese controlled waters with blood in their eyes. They were a single fist aimed at one spot on this blue world.
The core of the fleet was made up of three of the four Ticonderoga-class cruisers in the area. The fourth was needed to help with the Japanese Defense Fleet shooting down ballistic missiles that were landing all around Japan. The next largest ships were destroyers referred to as Zims. Four of the six Zumwalt-class destroyers made so far were in this same battle group. This was the first time that this many Zims had been in any one single battle group. Normally there would only be one of this type of ship within a whole carrier battle group, if then.
Only three of this class had been built or planned to be built after all of the cost overruns the very large ships had put the defense department through. But after the Colonials came to the planet more were laid down in hopes of trying to overcome the technology gap the Colonials showed the world. Now they were showing their worth for the first time to their owners/builders and to the rest of the population of this planet.
All six of the Arleigh Burke-class destroyers from the two carrier battle groups were working together now as well. They were joined by two additional Burkes that had been working with the local allied countries in the North Pacific. When this fleet passed the Okinawan Islands around noon, it grew even larger in numbers and in raw firepower. They picked up even more ships from what had been the escort for the marines. In total six more Burke-class ships joined up with the main fleet.
This fleet would not be with the air cover that should have been supplied by a Nimitz or Ford-class vessel. This fleet's air cover was provided instead by two amphibious assault ships, the USS America and the USS Makin Island. They had landed all of the ground forces and offloaded their landing ships for other vessels to deal with and mother. This shuffling had made room for a dozen Marine piloted F-35's on the USS America and only six F-35's plus some anti-submarine helicopters carried on the smaller ship. They were to help counter the surprisingly hard to kill small Chinese AIP subs and some other contacts that were giving the people over in ONI fits.
Also tagging along with the fleet of main line warships were six small mine hunters. The US Navy had been caught with its pants down once, so they were not taking any chances. China had been known to be in love with sea mines before the Colonials came. So, the US Navy wanted a way to counter them just in case a few surprises had been laid to block any reinforcements making it to Taiwan. A US fleet being led by mine sweeping boats - they were not real ships in the eyes of the US Navy - had not happened in almost half a century.
All of this iron was moving, and it was not covered by the news. News planes and helicopters do not like to fly around areas where people are throwing large missiles around. Much less one of those large missiles that maybe are nuclear tipped. Not to mention, the US ships were putting out enough radar energy to cook a steak at ten miles out from the ships. Fights had broken out in dozen of bars in the Pacific Rim, and the world knew that the US military was wound up. No one wanted to be the ones they vented their anger on.
Even fishing ships were voluntarily keeping a good distance from them. Only one group of surface ships had gotten close to this fleet. That had happened not long after they left port, and there had only been three very small ships. They were from a local and vocal peace group. They had been quite surprised when they started to close in on the US warships. Normally they could get within a few dozen meters of the warships, even after being warned off. This time they were warned off once, and then a solid 127mm shell had landed in the water about thirty meters off their bows.
They might have been stunned or thought that maybe it was an accident. Until a second larger explosion bloomed over the water at half the distance when they had not changed course fast enough. It was quickly joined by a stich of 20mm rounds that were close enough for the solid bullets trade paint with the lead ship's hull. Finally that was clear enough, and the ships turned back to port at their best speed. That was where they all had to change their underwear, and many had to use a spatula to clean out their underpants. It would be years before anyone on that crew would try to duplicate any of their old stunts.
All throughout the day, the USN got closer and closer to the area of conflict. The Chinese found out about this massive surface battle group a lot later than expected. The fleet was not found through Chinese spy satellites, because they had had none of them in orbit for years now. Most pointed to the Russians as providing the targeting data even years later.
No Chinese recon planes had even been in the area that the US fleet was passing through. A few people thought that maybe the Chinese navy had put something special on the tsunami and other marker buoys in the local area. In the end, it did not matter. The Warlord found out about the attack, and he had planned on a way to stop them from interfering with his plans for the island. It was just too bad that he was almost out of HGV's and he was out of specialized ASBM's.
The Chinese attack fighters and bombers along with sub launched attack missiles hit the US fleet in one solid wave of death. The wave of attackers was first picked up by the AWACS flying out of the reopened Clark Airbase. The data was processed and then passed along to the surface ships to alert them of the oncoming trouble. The attack was picked up on both the Zims' and Ticos' SPY-6's at the same time from their different locations within the spread out fleet not long after the first alert.
All of the F-35's fighters were off the deck and into the air rigged up for hunting enemy aircraft and missiles well before the Chinese were in attack range of the surface ships. The US Navy was ready for combat and it would not be caught flatfooted like before. The three Ticos were made ready to counter an air and missile attack. Everyone in the whole world knew this was what they had been built for. And that was why the attack was not aimed at them, but at the smaller warships that made up most of the thrown together fleet.
The wave of attacking anti-ship and radar homing missiles was impressive but the warship's crews did not flinch at seeing the onrushing death. They had a lot of counter missiles and very soon those were flying out from the fleet to greet the oncoming attack. What the Chinese did not know was that the wave of SAM's coming at them was not coming from the Ticonderoga-class ships, but were instead coming from the Zims and the Burkes. Very few of the Chinese planes or other craft could tell what was going on. They would have to wait until they got closer to the US Navy.
The American missiles were taking down missile after Chinese launched missile as the distance closed in on the American fleet. While all eyes were on the missile battle, the now even stealthier Lightning II's found the mixed bag of Chinese bombers without being seen by the enemy craft. It did not take long for the wing mounted stealth AIM-120D-12's to completely wipe out the Chinese long-range airborne strike force. The bombers should have broken off but they had been trained to follow the missiles until their built-in systems could get data, what was called battle damage assessment. The last sight the last bomber crew had was that the number of missiles they launched was not thinning out fast enough. Some of those missiles would hit the American ships.
What the long-range H-6 bombers did not see, but the attack fighters did see, was that the US Navy had not been sitting on the technology sidelines. All of the Arleigh Burke-class flight III destroyers had their five inch Mk 45 mod 4 cannons, which had been placed on the bows of the ships, replaced with a rapid fire 150-kilowatt laser. The Zumwalts also had one of their 155mm long ranged cannons replace with the same weapon. These were the real missile killers albeit shorter ranged than the RIM-174C.
The invisible beams of focused energy from ten different ships started sweeping the sky in a pattern given to each ship from one of the Ticonderogas' combat information centers. The lasers had only been tested against drones and missiles, not aircraft. The fleet commander had not wanted to have to deal with any legal issues on using laser weapons against people. As soon as the enemy missiles were within range of this new weapon, he ordered his fleet's counter air missiles to go after the manned aircraft next. The lasers for their part were given the mission of protecting the fleet from the remaining enemy weapons fire.
This battle was the first where laser weapons were used by the localborn. At least, any lasers outside of a movie set. The engine, electricity generation, and storage improvements made to the latest production or flight of Burke-class were tested to a level like no other in the long history of those ships. It was surprising to most that the weapons had worked but on each of the ships they did have a few issues in the testing and real life use of the new weapons. The ship's systems were redlining, and the smell of hot wires and ozone was quickly filling the ships. Still, they worked even if they were not perfect. Not against this large of an attack.
Four ships were damaged by anti-radar missiles that were able to get near hits but nothing was destroyed that would make the ships non-mission capable by the time the sun set. That was the first attack but it would not be the last attack on the US fleet. That first attack would not even be the largest one. The fleet commander would send a report back to the Pearl post attack about the status of his fleet. There were going to be a lot of new lessons learned in the next few days that the rest of the US Navy was going to have to study.
The American task force commander made notes in his log admitting that this one update was a lot easier to make than the previous one he had made what seemed like months ago. He had been a Tomcat pilot coming up the ranks, and it hurt him deep in his soul that he had such a small aviation contingent under his command. He had a feeling that in the near future, there would be a renewed push for smaller carriers, and that it was going to get more traction just because of this battle or small war. Right at this second though, he did not care. He was about to hammer a lot of targets soon. He moved the thoughts about the future to one part of his mind as he tried to get some sleep.
The commander of all US Navy forces in the Pacific made sure that all the data from wherever it was that they were getting it was being consolidated by the intelligence section on the flagship. In return for his checking on them, he was told that all the updated information that they had collected on enemy locations and targets had been sent to him. A hundred people would be going over everything that the fleet had collected and what was being added to the growing databases with a fine-tooth comb. They would be almost as stressed as the crews on the ships.
The fleet kept going, making course changes every so often at random to help counter any submarines that might be nearby. If one had used a good sized red marker and pointed it on the water surface, the course still would plot out as a line running between the mainland and the embattled island to the south. The fleet commander had no intention of sailing all the way down the western length of the island under attack.
With the effective combat ranges of the current generation of weapons, the American fleet did not need to take the risks those contested waters might hold. The current plan was that they would be cruising off the northeastern coast near the capital of Taipei. The ships would not be at anchor but moving all the time, and they would be on full war time alert. They wanted to show the people of the ROC and the world that the US Navy was there, and that they were there to help in the defense of this island. It was the navy equivalent of dropping the gauntlet for the whole world to see.
It was just after midnight when the next phase of the battle kicked off. There had been a reason for the Ticos beyond just shooting any missile in defense of the fleet. Now this fact was going to became very apparent to anyone with the right spy sats. Before the large ships had left port in Japan, the two by sixty-one cells that made up the Mark 41 VLS were loaded mostly with just land attack missiles. They still had some of the other types of weapons on those cruisers, but it was mostly Tomahawk missiles being carried in those vertical cells.
All of the Ticos were old, and this might be the last deployment for ships of this class. Many brain trusts thought that they were too old to be worth the cost of being kept up with the changing technology of modern warfare one more time. Only time would tell what would happen in the future for these great ships. Right now, they were being called to war and the old ships and their crews were more than willing to answer the call one last time.
The BGM-109Z's were fifty centimeters around and came in at just around 1600 kilograms for each of the weapons. When the commander of the fleet was ready, he gave the orders and the Chinese could now see how to launch a ship based missile attack. Within seconds of the orders, they started rising on pillars of flames as the latest generation of this weapon came out of the white topped cells. Unlike the Chinese ships of the recent past, American ships had ripple fired weapons like this before. They had the training, and they had learned from a few decades of mistakes on how to do something like this the right way.
In less than two minutes, three hundred land attack missiles were skimming over the wave tossed ocean with little wings to keep them in the air and small computer brains to get them where they needed to go. They were not one group of weapons going after one target in a modern version of carpet-bombing. On this attack each pair of weapons had a set target they were going after. Not only that, these modified weapons' small brains were loaded with back up targets and how to get there. They could even be retargeted midflight via satellite up and down links to the flagship's command center. It was part of the network-centric warfare updates the whole Navy had been working on completing. Also, unlike the Chinese attack, these weapons had excellent targeting data and their programmers were willing to use all of it.
The weapons were long ranged, with some having targets that were over 1,000 kilometers from their parent ships. The list of targets was varied, from enemy air defense sites, to runways, buildings in a port and military headquarters on both sides of the Strait of Taiwan. The Warlord had been expecting and receiving air and missile attacks for days now but this was something totally different. These weapons hit like thunder, and only four out of all of those launched did not make it to their intended targets that night.
What happened to those missing 4 missiles, no one would ever know. Losing up to ten percent of a volley of cruise missiles was normal for first time volley users. The US had learned a lot since the early 1990's. It even had been able to keep most of the technology out of enemy hands. Self-destruct timers on the missiles were set automatically when the boosters fired them out of the ship mounted cells. The missiles were still sub-sonic, but they also were still very hard to detect by any enemy systems.
Three hours after the last of the US launched missiles had found their targets, three more explosions were reported on different sensors in half a dozen different countries around the world. These new explosions were in the shallow waters off the coast of China. The US navy was not done yet. Reports and interviews released by members of the Defense Department did not cover everything in the level of detail that the reporters wanted. Some of the reporters still could not come to grips with the reality that there was a war on. Sometimes, you had to keep things close to your chest or the wrong people could learn something that could affect your plans.
By dawn, the fleet was in range to carry out the next set of land attacks. This time, it was not going to be missiles but solid rail gun rounds coming at the enemy. The third and succeeding Zumwalts had been built from the hull out to be fitted with a rail gun that was meant to be carried by her class from the start. With the coming of the Colonials, this was finally about to be carried out, but development soon stopped on those new weapons. There had been a change in the leadership. She had been looking for more Peace Dividends, just like her husband had preached decades before.
That first deployed generation of rail guns had now been replaced with a newer generation. This generation of weapon was lighter, had lower power requirements, was longer ranged, and could fire faster than any of the earlier generations of such weapons built on this planet. One of those weapons was now on the bow weapon position on each Zim called the 'A turret'. These weapons also needed less power than a laser system and now they were starting to replace the five-inch cannons on the Flight IIa Burkes as they came into drydock for major or SLEP refits. The rail gun rounds even had GPS guidance devices to help with long range targeting. All they needed to know was where the target was down to the meter and push the little red button.
On each ship, their rail gun turrets would turn and the long gray painted barrels reached for the sky. Within one second, each cannon started to fire. It was steady fire, and they even had a flash as each round left the barrel at spaceship rated speeds. Ten rounds every minute were fired from each rail gun turret. Then the turret would shift, and then ten more rounds would go down range. Every movement had been commanded by the fleet's flagship. The target list had been approved by the fleet commander before they had left port in Japan. This approval was a lot lower than something like this had been given over the last decade.
Fuel depots, aviation repair points, air defense missile storage, SSM launch sites, land forces groupings of a given size, all these were fair game. Even enemy bivouac sites that were more than sixteen kilometers from the front line had a set of ten gifts sent their way from across the island. Each shell was not launched by a bag or bags of explosive propellant, but by electricity and magnets forcing the round down the barrel at extreme speed.
Each of these rounds was not as large as what the Chinese were throwing into the battle from the start. Each round was also shorter ranged, and each round had about half the explosive power of the Chinese made round. On the other hand, each gun could fire three times as fast as any one of the Chinese weapons. So, three rounds per gun was landing with over all more damage than one of the Chinese made rounds. Still there were not that many Chinese rail guns in operation by the time the sun rose today.
Targeting information was coming in from US Air Force drones of the HALE family and assets that were flying even higher overhead. The encrypted data was then downlinked to the flagship. Each ship would stay on station like the old Yankee Station back in the day. That is, until any one of the ships' magazine was reported to be down to ten percent of capacity for the rail guns. This new Yankee Station was taking out targets and also taking out any attackers that came their way. Both types of action had a negative effect for the forces from the mainland. That also meant that the US Navy was getting a two for one, and that was well liked by them and the ROC government.
When Rex and his team were moved back off the lines to get some rest and resupply, the team was replaced by additional Colonial forces. They just were not on the ground. Two Vipers were the first to make it to the contested airspace of the island after the Colonial islands received the first reports back when this war started. Charles had asked the ROC leaders what where the most important things that he could do to help. He was told that Chinese air power was the most important major advantage being used against the island. Stopping it would allow the locals to move more easily in supporting their ground and sea forces. It would also allow more cargo planes to both bring in more cargos and get more wounded and civilians out of the combat zone. It would also help take away valuable assets the Warlord could not easily replace.
The term was called air superiority. The Chinese did not have the best combat planes on the planet but they had a lot of them, and they were closer to the conflict zone than any other combatant beside the ROC's own air force. Right then, Taiwan's government had only one airfield they could fly out of that was sort of safe for any extended period of time. Now, that one airfield no longer had to solely support attack and bomber aircraft, so they could do another mission.
That new mission started on the fourth day of the war. It was getting the noncombatants, like woman and children, off the island. They, along with anyone over the age of 60, or who had been hospitalized before the attack began, were loaded on any aircraft they could get to fly to the nearest safe zone. They were marked as noncombatants and flown to the nearest large city not on the island. Aircraft making the journey back would not be civilian airliners but military cargo planes bringing whatever military supplies they could. Once the waiting injured noncombatants were airlifted off the island, then military wounded would be next.
This change had been mandated by an agency deep within the UN. Many soldiers would die waiting in the caves for a spot on a ride off the island. If the Colonials could help loosen the PLA Air Force's hold on the skies over their island, they could get many more and larger aircraft off the ground or out of the bunkers they were hiding in. If they could get a single 747, 380 or 787 off the deck, that could add between three hundred and seven hundred people lifted off to safety on that one airframe.
Before the sun had made it over the horizon of the Colonial controlled island, now called the Trading Post and not the old names unless it was for a political attack, four craft moved out of protective shelters in the mountains that formed the center or backbone of the island. The fully loaded craft were on their way west and north in only a few minutes after being pulled into the open air from their own bunkers. Each of the craft was armed with energy weapons and short ranged missiles fixed to different areas of their airframes. There was not any need for the heavy hitting larger missiles on this mission.
The missiles fitted to those craft were not as good as the remaining Rifts weapons on New Kobol. Admiral Adama had been working very hard, and making everyone else work harder, to make those new amazing weapons. Those weapons were better than anything the Colonials made before this latest production run. And now at least these weapons were being made in the Colonial system and could be replaced in a few weeks, counting travel time.
They were still listed as mixed tech weapons, but they worked for the Colonials. They had passed all tests almost two years ago and they were now the fleet's short-ranged weapons system of choice for her small craft. The seeker and brains of the weapons were Cylon based technology. The rocket motor was a modified version of a Colonial military model mixed in with some reproducible Rifter ideas. By now this was the base design for many different missile classes being used by what remained of the Colonial military while on patrol. The outer shells and warheads were all made from Rifter technology, which the Colonials also could make in a new facility on the capital planet. If they needed something that was more specialized, the Colonials still had some surprises in the bunkers filled from the Lucky Find's hold.
The two Viper MK VIII's that lifted off were modified to carry three of these missiles under each wing and had another three affixed to a triple hard point under the main fuselage of the space fighter. It could have carried more mass, but the missiles took up so much space that it limited the safe in atmosphere stress load. That the small wings could not have room to carry more was also well known. As they had found out before, the Vipers needed to be able to maneuverer or it could be taken out by the locals' growing military tech base.
The pair of Raptors following the Vipers carried twenty of these weapons each, spread out across three different bays or compartments. It was not much but it was a start to help out a friend in need. The four craft made their way to the combat zone at a speed of just over Mach 5. No one knew they were coming. So it would be a surprise when the four craft made contact with one of the command-and-control aircraft flying figure eights sixty-five kilometers off of the east coast of the contested island.
Captain Bill 'Wake' Taylor pulled his stick hard to the left, and he felt the g's pile on. Still he put more power to his twin engine jet. He had been flying out of Japan and tanking for gas over the Yellow Sea three times a mission. He had been doing three types of jobs in this new war. One type of mission had been escorting attack craft. He had also been doing counter fighter mission to thin out the Chinese hordes. The last type of mission had been as the escort for high value aircraft supporting the battle of Taiwan. Those types of craft could be tankers, sub hunters, command and control craft or intelligence, surveillance or reconnaissance craft of all kinds.
The last two mission were the most boring of the types of work that a fighter pilot could draw. That last type was the mission that he and his wing man had been on for the last eight hours. Crew rest had been one of the first regulations relaxed with the loss of two Navy carriers. Wake already had three confirmed kills. Two more and he would be an ace. Not the first ace of this war, but an ace nonetheless. That is, if he could only get off this babysitting job. At least during an ISR escort mission, he might be able to catch an enemy jet trying to run off the allied spying jet.
Wake was daydreaming as he made another turn to keep in proper position near a JSDF Boeing E-767. A voice speaking in perfect English came over the line. It was the local control and mission commander for this whole area of space. "Boxer 89. We are getting an odd and intermittent contact in box 576. We are sending you and your wingman to go check on it. Be advised that this area is an old training area used by the PLA for their dogfighting school. This is a free fire zone and clear of any civilian aircraft. Good hunting, and if you can bring back a souvenir for our video collection, that would be great."
Wake looked down at one of his flat panel displays as the big Boeing sent over the data to his craft via Data Link 22. He didn't have to tell the command-and-control bird that by sending them that far out, it would be defenseless. At least until they could get another fighter team out here. That was not his worry any more. They were the boss of this area, and they had okayed him and his wingman to go sightseeing.
"Roger Eye 14. We will go check it out." That was all Bill needed to say. As soon as he made his turn to a new course, his wingman would be right with him. He only needed to check his one display that was telling him where to go and why. It was the digital age after all. Maybe one day he could just speak, and the aircraft would send a text message to the other aircraft or something like that.
It was a long drive to the new area that the aircraft with the huge radar sent them to. It was a spot of sea that was between China and North Korea, but it was a thin area that was also close to the Russian Federation after a little overflight of China. It was the very definition of a no man's land in this shooting war. The two American Raptors had to use the supercruise capabilities built into their jets to reach it in a meaningful time frame. The pair of jets were fifth generation fighters, but they were not the same F-22's that came off the line decades ago. The line that stopped when they reached 180 airframes delivered to the USAF. These were new built jets, with more than a few new bells and whistles.
Wake's wingman was riding in one of the first new built Raptors called the F-22C. The production line had been put back together a month after the first spotting of an alien craft in the star system. Wake's craft was an F-22D that was less than a year old from rolling out of the hangar doors for the first time. It was covered in the latest aviation grade metal made on this planet, and even most of its internal frame members were made with even stronger metals. The engines even had been upgraded with newer technologies. Then again, all F-22's were getting the new engines when they went through their next scheduled phase 4 maintenance cycles.
Wake and his wingman were in full passive mode after leaving the racetrack of the control plane. All of their active systems were in standby mode, and they were receiving the data being generated by the E-767 many kilometers behind them. Maybe that was why there were successfully jumped. They both were looking down at their flat screens and not what was going on around them. The first warning that they were under attack was when a missile he saw as a flash went flying by his wingman and then got lost in the clouds to his right.
Wake reacted before his mind told him what was happening. "Break!?" was out of his mouth before he knew that his craft was moving differently. It was his many years of training kicking in and that was what saved his life.
The two generation 5+ fighters split and each took a different line. Wake looked around and saw for the first time the attackers. They were a pair of J-20 Black Eagles and a pair of Russian made SU-57 Felons. He saw the pair of Chinese made stealth jets turn to go after his wingman. That left the two Russian made stealth fighters for him to deal with.
Wake was splitting his attention, trying to evade the ambush while keeping an eye on the pair of attackers behind him. "Where in the frak did these things come from?" This message and the data his and his wingman's fighters were gathering were automatically being sent to the E-767 thanks to the Link 22 systems on all three aircraft.
Wake was being slammed from side to side as he pushed his aircraft and himself to the limits of both pilot and airframe. Parts of his g-suit would inflate then deflate as he tried to get some kind of small advantage in this outnumbered battle. Then his hands and feet did a combination of movements and part of his brain saw what the enemy did. As he saw it, a missile separated from one of the SU-57's.
The Raptor's self-protection systems activated, and flares popped out of both sides of his 30 ton aircraft. They looked like angel wings as they flew out in a pattern behind his cockpit. The flares were white hot and way hotter than the exhaust coming out of the hard-working twin engine jet. The Russian made weapon went after the bright flares that filled its vision for just a single second of flight time. That sudden movement caused a switch to activate and the weapon detonate. The continuous rod warhead did its job, but it had been designed to target craft moving at slower speeds than this generation of F-22 could.
The flash was all Wake needed to notice. He looked over one shoulder and let his helmet mounted weapons sight do its job. A red circle surrounded one of the pursuing jets. As soon as the circle was solid, a bay door near one of the engines mouths popped open for a second before closing again. In that second the bay was open, an AIM-9Z was launched. Its five-inch motor fired and it went forward of the F-22 for about a half second more. What happened next was a feat of engineering and software. The many fins on the sides of the missile and the thrust nozzle flexed for lack of a better term. The missile rapidly moved in three dimensions and it now overflew the wing of the F-22 and its glass covered sensor came alive for the first time.
Now the finally aptly named Sidewinder could see its target. The booster went to full power and the American made missile did its best to meet its target. The SU-57 was moving at about Mach 1.5 while the new Sidewinder was moving at over three times the speed of sound and still climbing as the missile lost mass burning its new generation solid fuel. The attacking jet was only about three kilometers behind the American jet and closing. The Felon pilot did not have enough time to think as the Sidewinder came through the angled tailfins of the F-22. The missile crossed the distance and when the sensors knew the time was right activated its WDU-17B annular blast-frag warhead. The blast shattered the radar and the cockpit of the Russian jet in a bright flash of released energy.
Wake had a smile on his face as his systems told him that he had just bagged Number 4. The smile went thin as he was thrown by his jet around in the sky at a high g's. "Okay, time for Number 5." Bill said this aloud and it was recorded by his inflight systems. It was unknown at that point if he was going to live to regret those words or not.
The remaining Russian pilot was not just sitting on his hands after his wingman died. This had been just a training mission to show the Chinese what the SU-57 could do. It was supposed to be a sales pitch, maybe the last one before one of the Chinese Warlords paid between 50 and 60 million in cash or trade for each of the new aircraft. That money would go right into making more of these cutting edge fighters for the Russian Federation. He remembered the first briefing about this sale. For every fighter sold down south, they could use those funds to build one and a half for his service. That was nice, but there was a hidden sweetener in the deal for the Russians.
The big item for sale was the engine those fighters needed to get the best performance out of the airframe. The Chinese always had problems making good jet engines, and it was not because the Russian engines had such great engine life. To get everything out of those hunks of metal and ceramic they had pushed things to the very edge of design. The engine life for this engine was almost as bad as what the early MIG-29's had. The FSB had noted that if the SU-57 worked as advertised, they would also want to see what other craft could use the same high performance Izdeliye AL-43F. This would generate a large and recurring flow of money, resources, and other items into his country just to keep those engines working for the Chinese.
Now all he needed to do was to kill the Aime in the F-22. As his wingman died, he knew that he was going to kill this Aime. Now he knew that the Raptor had stealth. It had been in all of the books and moves for the past two decades, but stealth did not mean invisible or invincible. He pulled hard to the left and opened the distance to his target. With a hard snap turn behind him, he started looking for his enemy. With a satisfied grin he let an M-77M or AA-12 Adder fall from his own concealed and stealth tech covered weapons bay.
Wake's bird's systems told him about the new threat as soon as the Russian had activated its AESA seeker. Wake again had to divide his attention between many tasks. He needed to deal with the threat, and he still needed to keep an eye on the enemy craft. As he fought his craft and its systems fought to confuse the attacking radar guided weapon, Wake worked to get closer to his enemy before it had another chance to kill Mrs. Taylor's youngest child.
The attacking missile soon was confused by the electronic noise in the local airspace. There was a method to combating stealth aircraft, and it was one that the USAF had learned after two decades of using this class of craft in their own inventories. One key tactic was that you did not shoot radar guided weapons at a stealth craft from any range. You could, but you had better launch a few of them to make sure you could get the kill. That was why as more militaries gained their own stealth technology, the fighter carried fewer and fewer missiles that relied on radar guidance to get them to work. That did not mean that they no longer carried any of those weapons. Not every target was stealthy.
As the Adder missile went one way, Wake was going another way. With a flick of the controls, Wake's thrust vectoring systems kicked in and he flipped his craft on its back and he went to full military output of his engines. He felt the blood pooling in different parts of his body as his high-tech suit did not know where to try to push blood to. Just as the grey tunnel was closing in on him, he fired another Sidewinder, focusing as best as he could on the last SU.
When Wake started to grey out completely, the Raptor's system took over the craft from the human part of this machine. It backed off the g-loading by slowing the craft down and the craft rolled back over so that the wings could get adequate lift at the lower speed rating. The tunnel in Bill's eyes and brain started to get wider until he had had his full color vision back. He was rewarded with two things. One was a fireball about where the last Felon had been, just a few hundred feet lower and dropping fast. The second thing was that he had an alarm sound ringing in his ears. Then his wingman was yelling that he was hit and going down. His wingman's voice got very calm. He said that he got one, but he could not punch out of his damaged bird.
Bill felt his heart sink as his brain registered what he was hearing. A little mark showed up on his helmet display that he had hoped to never have to see. It was the wreckage of his wingman's plane that now was no longer stealthy like the SU-57 he had just shot down. Wake pointed his nose in towards the area of space that his friend had just died in. He was now flying at just below the speed of sound. There was only one other fighter out there, and it was the best fighter that China had ever made. Wake was going to make sure that this one didn't make it home again.
"Base this is Boxer 89. We found your ghost. They were a pair each of Black Eagles and Felons doing something out here. My wingman is down, need SAR. I'm going to see if the last Black Eagle is still in the area." Bill did not wait to hear a reply, he had a hunt to undertake.
It was the Black Eagle that found him first. Before Bill knew what was happening a PL-10 hit his right wing in a wash of sound and a bright flash of multicolored flames. Bill's head snapped to his right and he saw a wave of flame wrap around his wing like it was a living being. Then just as quickly, the slipstream going around this craft pushed the fire away from his wing. The skin on that part of the wing was now dented, and the paint was now more black than air superiority gray but the wing still was there, attached to the rest of his craft. It would seem that the new high-tech hard outer skin was worth the money it had taken to put on this version of the Raptor.
Gao Zhihang could not believe his eyes as the Raptor kept flying after his weapon had what looked like direct physical contact with the enemy fighter. He knew that he had hit his target, but somehow it was still flying. A like hit had taken out the other Raptor less two minutes ago. After the two Raptors had split up, he had lost his wingman to the American made stealth jet. After he had hit the Raptor with an IIR and image homing short-ranged missile, he had pulled up and climbed as high as he could to wait for the second stealth craft to come looking for his lost wingman.
He was waiting for the Russians to show back up or for the other Raptor to show. When his IIR tracker picked up the Raptor closing in on to the spot where his wingman had gone down, Gao had dived onto the lower flying jet in complete passive mode. He was able to line up a great shot and launched another Thunderbolt Ten. It had flown perfectly and when it was at the perfect distance from the enemy craft, the warhead had gone off. Yet somehow the American jet was still flying. It was impossible! That second F-22 should have been on its way to the ocean below.
Gao's fighter kept diving, he was distracted by the lack of damage done by his weapon. Wake now saw the diving Black Eagle and he turned into it. The F-22 still had a rapid-fire cannon. It was the old M61A2 20mm six-barrel rotary cannon that the first F-22 had been built with back in the mid-1990s. The range was very short, and as Bill pulled the trigger a mix of M53 and PGU-28 rounds flew out of the weapon at a rate of 6600 rounds a minute.
Gao was brought back to the world by a flash coming from the nose of the enemy fighter. His training kicked in, as well as almost two years of combat flying in this civil war. He pulled out of his dive but he was too late. His craft was hit at least four times by the high speed 20mm rounds. That should have taken his craft apart, but the Americans were not the only ones to use new types of metals in the outer skin of their top-of-the-line jets. It was not as good as the Americans, but it did stop the few old tech 20mm rounds from going too far into the jet and causing a loss of the craft. Gao had had enough of this fight. He pushed his throttles to and through the mechanical stops. His craft went from high subsonic into the transonic range in a few heartbeats and once the afterburner kicked in, he was past the speed of sound and still accelerating.
By the time that Bill 'Wake' Taylor could get back into the game, the enemy jet was out of range of his cannon and Sidewinder missiles. He was about to lose the jet on IR so he went active with his aircraft sensors. He was thinking that at worst, the enemy would know that someone was still painting radar energy in his direction. Maybe they would not get off the gas until they were feet dry or until they were within visual distance of their airfield.
The AN/APG 77v4 AESA felt the power flow through its circuits for the first time in weeks. In less than half a second, it started sending waves of energy out the nose of the fighter and at the speed of light, energy was coming back to it. The radar dutifully passed on this reflected energy information back to the biologic in the seat mounted behind the bleeding edge radar.
Bills' eyes got wide as his brain processed the data his systems were giving him. He should not have been able to pick up the stealth fighter at this distance but he was. His quick mind pointed out the hits from the 20mm cannon on the enemy fighter. They must have done some damage or something else, and now the J-20 Black Eagle was not as stealthy as it used to be.
Bill felt a tight smile come to his face as he went to full afterburner and he was pushed back into his seat. The rate of separation slowed, but did not stop. The J-20 had a very high turn of speed. No one would be able to deny that anymore. Bill let the rate of separation steady out but it was still climbing, then he pulled the trigger all the way back. When the weapons were ready, he said two words that were famous the world over thanks to Hollywood. "Fox 3!"
Under his butt two bays opened at once and two large weapons fell from his craft. Their 200mm motors fired off at maximum output after they had cleared the speeding craft. These were the only two AIM-120's that Wake had been loaded with on this mission. The 8-inch diameter missiles' own onboard radars came online, and with a little data link built into them, they were able to get some help from the parent craft to see the target. The pair of missiles were now supersonic and closing in on hypersonic. The three radars were sharing information and the pair of missiles closed the distance to the Chinese fighter.
Gao was doing everything he could to break the radar lock on his craft from the second his warning receiver went off but nothing was working. Every trick that had worked before did not seem to work against this new threat. He knew that he was going to die and at the last second, he pulled the eject cord or chicken switch between his legs. He cleared his craft only a few heartbeats before the two AMRAAM's killed his only ride home. He was still too close to his craft, and the blast knocked him out even before his copy of the Martin/Baker seat let its parachute deploy.
As soon as Bill saw the twin fireballs, he dropped off of afterburner and went down to supercruise. After using the burner or "hammer" for so long, he was burning through his fuel reserves very quickly. He searched the area, and he could not pick up anything on his IR systems or still active radar. That is, except for one parachute. He needed to check in, so he turned off his radar. He was a stealth fighter after all and anything that transmits can be targeted by enemy weapons. That was one of the key rules in stealth warfare. You do not transmit any energy.
"Base, this Boxer 89. Area seems to be now clear of contacts. Two Felons and two Black Eagles down. One chute is visible, and it is not a friendly. Don't know if there are any other threats in the general area. I have nothing on active radar at this time. Requesting tanker support and an SAR to this location. You might want to make sure it has an escort."
The radio was quiet for a few seconds before the E-767 mission commander came back through the speaker. "Boxer 89, good to hear. We were picking up only a few missiles and sudden flashes of returns. We have an SAR team and a Wedgetail coming in from Osan to your location. Will send a second SAR team if available. You will have six South Korean F-35s in that area in three minutes at their current speed. There is also another odd reading in your area. Please squawk."
Wake let his shoulders fall. The E-767 could not have known what was going on this far out with his systems in full passive mode. After they saw the flight of the first missile, they must have alerted the whole area. He reached down and hit his squawk box. This would transmit a burst of data that the AWACS and the F-35's could both pickup and use to plot this location. Before Wake could get his hand back on his stick, the speakers were active again.
"Ahh! There you are! Be advised that we have a constant but weak radar return from you. Looks like you might have bent your stealth plane, Captain. Come to course 047. You have an appointment with Rose 7 for a fuel transfer in two hundred clicks. Oh, and welcome to the Ace club, young man. I got mine over Iraq, so drinks are on you when we meet."
The radio was quiet, and all Wake could do was smile. He was an ace plus one. Now all he had to do was get his bent bird safely back to the barn, live through the debriefing, find out about his wingman, make sure the data confirmed his kills, and then make it to the nearest bar. It was not every day that you made ace, shot down three enemy jet fighters on one mission, and have all three fighters be top-of-the-line stealth fighters. Yeah, he still had a lot to do before he slipped between the sheets one more time.
Each of the Colonial craft went to the areas that were given to them by their command back on the island. However, they would only take action if the AWACS craft let them know of a new threat in their general areas. There were only four craft and they were not working in pairs, but alone. Each Colonial craft could only effectively control about a fifteen kilometer circle around each of them but in that fifteen kilometer area there was nothing that they could not see or have an effect on if they so chose. They were the apex predators in these skies.
The four Colonial military craft took control of the local areas, and soon the two Vipers were out of missiles and pillars of smoke dotted their area of operations from falling enemy aircraft. They still had almost an unlimited use of the twin pulse laser cannons mounted on their wings and those were strong enough to take out anything that was flying on this planet. The Vipers had enough fuel to stay on station as long as the pilots had the energy to be productive in the cockpit. That was normally about 6 hours of fighting. Admiral Adama had fought his people longer and harder on occasion, but he knew the human limit so that regulation was rigidly enforced.
The Raptors with their deeper missile bays and generally more comfortable cockpits lasted longer in the longer ranged combat environment. Still, the number of Chinese aircraft was huge. Even with the pilots of those craft trying to ration their supply of missiles, soon they had empty missile bays and had to rely only on their quad wingtip mounted pulse laser cannons to take out enemy aircraft. For 6 hours those 4 craft ruled their respective parts of the sky.
The four Colonial craft kept running from point to point in the local airspace like a bunch of madmen. They did not shoot down many enemy craft with those energy weapons but they broke up many different formations of attacking aircraft. For the first time the airspace over the island did not totally belong to the mainland Chinese force whenever they wanted it. It did not belong to the ROC Air Force by any stretch of the imagination either, but it was safer. By the time the Colonial craft reported to the command and control aircraft that they would be leaving their areas in 15 minutes, over a hundred various unarmed aircraft had been able to take off from ROC runways. Each one had its metal tube packed to the max weight that it could carry to leave the runways. Those four Colonial craft might have killed, shot down, or damaged about ninety Chinese aircraft and crews. They had also saved almost 10,000 people who lived on the now contested island. It was just a show of how a small force can affect a whole battle area if they were used effectively.
