Rowsdower AFB
The sun had barely even risen over northern Cascadia when Hitman Team was scrambled in the middle of breakfast. A time-sensitive situation had developed during the night, and they were so short on time that there wasn't even any time for a briefing. Hitman were simply rushed to their planes, hastily worked through their pre-flight checklists, and thrown into the sky.
Peter "Diplomat" Kennedy personally felt like shit. He was tired, stressed, hungry, and more than a little grumpy. Nevertheless, duty called, and he and his team had to answer.
"Listen up Sicario, I'm only going over all of this once." Stardust said. Their Cascadian Envoy would be leading the mission, as he'd apparently been monitoring the situation since last night. "Several days ago, the Independence Force received a message from Commander Ozar, a Federation Airship Commander stationed in Prospero. She claimed that she and her crew wanted to defect from the Federation, and while on patrol last night, they took the opportunity to run for IF-held territory."
Peter kept his mouth shut as Stardust talked. He'd made the mistake of interrupting a superior officer while they were giving a briefing once, and he didn't intend to repeat it.
"Unfortunately, some of the crew were still loyal to the Federation, and alerted the Federation of Commander Ozar's intentions. Now they've sent everything and the kitchen sink after Ozar's Airship, the Osiris, and their escort squadron." Stardust continued. "Now they're making a fighting retreat to link up with us, and we're moving in to assist them. Any questions?"
"None from me, although this does seem kind of familiar, huh Monarch?" Comic asked. She sounded just as groggy and disheveled as Peter felt, which was no surprise, none of them were in good shape. "I wonder if Captain Woodward made a few friends while he was out stealing the Eminent Domain…"
"I remember the weather being terrible." Prez added from the WSO seat of Monarch's F/D-14. "Then again, I'd almost prefer that to all of this haze; I can't see shit!"
Diplomat couldn't help but smile, Prez hadn't meant to, but she'd just helped him win a lasting argument that he'd been having with Comic. "You see Mic'? There's a good reason to bring a pair of shades when you go flying, to keep the sun out of your eyes."
"Your helmet has a visor, dumbass." Comic dispassionately replied.
"Well, two layers of eye protection is better than one, right?" He jokingly asked. "Come on Monarch, back me up here."
Monarch didn't speak up, as expected, but Stardust took the opportunity to ask a question of his own. "Do you guys normally talk this much right before you go into combat?!"
"Pretty much, yeah." Diplomat said, ignoring the annoyance in Stardust's voice. Being a military pilot, he was probably used to things being a bit more strict than they were in Sicario. "Ain't much to do until we get a bit closer to the target."
"Well, run some flight checks, watch your Radar, just do anything other than clutter the radio!" Stardust exclaimed.
"Ugh… you're just like Galaxy!" Prez complained. "How'd you feel if I told you to shut up?"
Oh yeah, Galaxy's still asleep, lucky bastard… Peter thought, suddenly realizing why his headache wasn't quite as bad as it otherwise would have been. Flying without an AWACs did have its downsides however, as Hitman was forced to rely upon their own fighters Radars and fire control systems to track and identify targets.
Before Stardust could answer Prez's challenge, Monarch spoke up over the radio. As usual, he said only as much as he had too. "Radar contact dead ahead, airship-sized, angels eight. Multiple other bogies swarming around it."
"That's the Osiris! Hitman Team, lead the way, I'll fall in behind you!" Stardust said.
As the distance began to close, Diplomat could make out the battle that was taking place in the skies ahead. The reflection off of the clouds from the sun was blinding even with his much-touted shades and visor, but he could just about make out the silhouette of a 205-Class Airship pulling a hard evasive turn.
"A battleship?" Comic asked in surprise. "Damn, this really is just like the Eminent Domain."
"Here's to hoping they've got another bottle of whiskey on board, eh Monarch?" Prez asked.
"Tighten up comms Hitman! MASTERARM on, I'm patching us into the Osiris now!" Stardust said. "Their IFFs shouldn't be transmitting as Federation anymore, but check your fire!"
Somewhat nervously, Diplomat looked over to his fire control system to authenticate what Stardust was saying, and much to his relief, a few of the contacts up ahead were marked with Cascadian Independence Force IFFs. Unfortunately, he could also see that they were badly outnumbered, and as if to punctuate that point, a missile slammed into the Osiris' keel. Even from so far away, he couldn't help but wince in sympathy for what was clearly a very bad hit.
Over the radio, he could hear a woman coughing and breathing heavily, presumably Commander Ozar. "Damage control, get me a report on that impact! Weapons, get some flak up off our stern, don't let anything else through!"
"Sir, four new contacts from the north, IFFs read as Independence Force fighters!" Another voice called out.
"Thank god!" Ozar said. "Stardust, is that you?!"
"Affirmative Commander." Stardust said. "I've brought the best that we have. Maintain your course north and we'll get you home safe."
"The best that we have, huh Stardust?" Comic slyly asked. "And here you were lecturing us."
"You might be good pilots, but you run your mouths too much." Stardust curtly replied. "I've got two-dozen targets on Radar, some fighters, some interceptors. How do you want to play this Monarch?"
Again, Monarch kept it short and sweet. "Stardust, take Mic' and run interference for the Osiris. Dip, with me, let's save those friendly pilots."
The pilots in question were probably from the escort squadron of the Osiris, and now that Hitman had closed the distance somewhat, he could see just how badly they were doing. Four C-16 fighters were all that was still flying, and none of them seemed to have escaped damage. Despite being outnumbered six-to-one, however, they were still holding on, and even managing to take some attention off of the badly-battered Osiris. Their IFF tags listed them as having the callsigns Wigs, Truffles, Neon, and Matchbox, with Wigs being the squadron leader.
While Stardust and Comic broke off to stop the Federation from getting any more hits on the beleaguered battleship, Diplomat followed as Monarch pounced on the Federation's main fighter force, largely consisting of MG-29s and E-18s.
"Marshall Team, break off and make for Hitman Team, give them a shot at these bastards!" Wigs ordered.
"Steady Dip, ready MLAAs." Monarch warned him and Peter realized with horror what the maniac was planning.
With Marshall Team breaking towards them and the federation pilots inevitably following, there would be a brief window where the two of them would have the perfect opportunity to hit the enemy with every missile they had. Unfortunately, that went both ways, and if either of them broke off either too early or too late from their head-on charge, it could end in disaster. Nevertheless, Diplomat had learned time and time again to trust Monarch with his life, and so he steadied his nerves and followed the plan.
The moment to fire came, and both he and Prez let loose with a full salvo of MLAAs, eight missiles in total. The Federation Pilots made evasive maneuvers and a few of them retaliated, forcing both he and Monarch to break left and right respectively, popping flares and clenching their teeth as the sounds of missiles screaming past them could be heard. He kept to the turn until he was back on course to rejoin formation with Monarch, and as he looked back, he saw four Federations fighters tumbling to the ground in balls of flame, accompanied by three men in parachutes.
"Damnit, I have to reset Radar." Prez grumbled. "Monarch, you've still got the gun and IRs, but I need you to hang back for a minute!"
"Affirmative." Monarch said, as disbelievingly calm as ever.
Monarch led the way as the two planes broke off in a long turn to put some distance between them and the enemy to buy Prez some time, giving Peter an excellent view of the battle as it was progressing. Both Stardust and Comic had splashed one bandit apiece, and the guns aboard the Osiris were doing good work by corralling the Federation Pilots into kill zones for them.
All was not well, however. The Osiris was smoking and burning from multiple points across the hull, and one of its engines was completely dark. Marshall Squadron wasn't doing well either, as Monarch and Diplomat completed their turn, Peter watched helplessly as a Federation E-18 performed a lethal gun run on Truffles' C-16, blowing it apart. No parachute emerged from the pile of scrap that had once been a plane.
"We've got to get back in there if we want to save those pilots!" Peter exclaimed. "Prez, how's your Radar coming along?"
"Shit… It's no good Dip, but I've got an idea!" Prez said, sounding more and more desperate by the second. "Transmit your Radar output over to us, I can sync it up to fire our MLAAs!"
"If you think it'll work…" Peter said. It took a moment to get a steady signal with Monarch's plane, but eventually they had it set up. Monarch fell back behind him to clear up Peter's line of sight, and in a bizarre change of pace, he was the one leading Monarch.
"Hitman, this is Marshall." Wigs came in again over the radio. "We're running out of maneuvers over here, what's the hold up?!"
"Equipment failure, but we've got it sorted!" Diplomat responded. "Monarch, as soon as you've fired your salvo, break off and close the distance."
Monarch didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. If there was one place where the Ace was truly at his best, it was a close-range dogfight.
The distance closed, and as the enemy began to get in range, Diplomat waited just a little bit before he fired, letting his Radar lock onto targets for both his own plane and Monarch's, before firing. Eight more MLAAs flew into the air and sped towards their targets, followed quickly by the planes that had launched them. Flares and evasive maneuvers from the Federation pilots meant that only three of the missiles ended up hitting their targets, but that left the Federation with only six planes in the dogfight to Hitman and Marshall's five, a far fairer fight than they had started with.
As could be expected from turning Monarch loose in the middle of a small furball, the fight quickly turned in their favor. One Federation plane went down, followed by another, then another. Even with just his gun and short-range infrared missiles, Monarch and Prez were a duo that were not to be trifled with. Diplomat for the most part just tried his best to keep up and scare off any Federation pilots who dared to make a pass at the Marshall pilots. While he wasn't sure how long they'd been flying, Marshall Team's exhaustion was obvious enough to Peter by their beleaguered flying.
"Fuck, I don't know if I can keep going." Truffles said in between deep breaths.
"Hold it together Marshall, we're almost through this!" Diplomat replied. "Don't try anything fancy, just keep them occupied and let me pick em' off!"
After only a few minutes, the last of the Federation fighters went down in flames, and so Dip, Monarch, and the Marshall Team turned to assist Comic and Stardust with the defense of the Osiris.
The situation hadn't improved much since he'd last gotten a good look. Stardust and Comic were trying to hold off an entire squadron with just two planes, and most of the weapons aboard the Osiris were either on fire or otherwise disabled.
"Damnit! Stardust, get this guy off of me!" Comic called out, only for a pair of missiles from Monarch to fly in and blow apart the offending aircraft. The rest of the Federation planes took the hint and fell back to regroup into proper attack formation. "Well shit, about time Boss! Osiris is burning badly, if it takes another hit to the belly, she's screwed!"
Commander Ozar's voice came over the radio again, sounding much weaker than before. "Marshall Team, if any of you are still combat effective, fall in behind Hitman."
"Roger that ma'am, good luck!" Wigs responded. "Matchbox, Truffles, stay on my wing and don't break formation until they've got a solid tone on you!"
The now seven aircraft strong formation matched up against the Federation's eleven plane line. As they crossed into one another range, all hell broke loose as missiles began to fly again, guns roared, and pilots of both flags performed daring evasive maneuvers. Unfortunately, Hitman and Marshall's smaller numbers worked against them, and a pair of enemy MG-31s managed to break through their line, each carrying a single massive anti-ship missile towards the Osiris.
"Osiris, pop countermeasures!" Diplomat shouted as the Federation Interceptors salvoed off their lethal weapons.
For a brief, horrible moment, it seemed like there was nothing that could be done to stop the missiles. But then, like Valkyries. Monarch and Comic came diving in from above, and tore apart the missiles with their cannons.
Seeing an opportunity, Diplomat dove in on the two Federation Interceptors, whose pilots were just probably trying to figure out what happened, and fired a pair of MLAAs, splashing both aircraft in one move.
With the Federations last hope at a victory now lost, the remaining enemy aircraft turned and fled, in spite of Prez and Comic both vehemently taunting them to stay and fight over open comms. With the battle ended, Hitman and Marshall fell into an escort formation around the battered Osiris.
"Commander Ozar, is your Airship still capable of reaching Rowsdower?" Stardust asked.
Ozar let out a long sigh of relief that Peter found it very easy to empathize with. "Yeah, we're good. Damage control is getting the last of the fires under control now, and our Cordium is reading as stable, mostly. We'll need some help patching up the hull once we're on the ground, but we'll make it. Thanks a million Hitman."
"Don't mention it, Commander." Monarch said.
"Woah, holy shit. That guy with the Crown talks?" Wigs asked, although nobody answered their question.
"What do you think Dip? Does this make up for you not getting to save the Eminent Domain with us?" Comic asked.
Peter took one look out the window at the battered Osiris and its escorts, and smiled. "I'd say so. Just don't leave me out of the fun again, you hear?"
Comic chuckled. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Author's Note: I was pretty surprised at how many people liked the first "Of Wings and Their Wingmen" which was originally meant to be a one-off. That being said, if you all want some more, I've got a few ideas.
As for the delay… I blame life, which threw quite a lot of curveballs my way. I've got one more big idea that I want to write for Project Wingman, which should hopefully be out soonish.