A/N: It should be important to note that my take on Emmeria is far different from most other fans. Namely, I portray the nation as being very much like France. I bring this up because that will reflect in (some) names, ranks, and TOE (Tables of Organization and Equipment). Otherwise this is fairly similar to my other stories concentrating on major battles from the games. Logistical considerations and all. Also, and much more importantly, a huge (and criminally belated) shout-out to my beta reader, Asta, for their continuing assistance.
Chp. 1: A Most Fearsome Squall
November 11, 2015
Central Khesed, Emmeria
"Baron 1, Magnum!"
The stars in the twilight sky were joined by the flash of a rocket motor, and with that the entire countryside seemed to come alive. As the Mirage 2000's wingman mirrored his call, more aircraft spilled out of the mountains below them at high speed. Capitaine Joan Bellecourt tensed her body and snapped her Rafale B strike fighter into a hard left as the terrain started to flatten. Her wingman, Lieutenant Marcus Lampert, switched from her left to her right as they turned towards their target and leveled out. She looked above in search of the ARMAT anti-radar missiles that the SAM suppression element had fired. The Estovakians appeared to still be asleep; just as she made that observation, the pitch from the RWR (Radar Warning Receiver) changed. Joan didn't feel much urgency as the Rafale's internal defenses took over. In fact, she felt totally in control from the front seat of the advanced fighter. She looked at the RWR's display, then her kneeboard; the SA-17s were right where intelligence had said they were.
"Baron 1, Magnum!"
"Baron 2, Magnum!"
Joan's eyes became fixated on the final turn before the two Rafales hit a highway twisting through the lower Marcello mountains. In the back seat, Lieutenant Erwan Naude was scanning the way ahead with their nose-mounted TV/IR sensor. He lifted his head as the RWR tone changed again, then looked skywards. Suddenly, two lights caught his attention. He looked back as Joan went through another gnarly turn as multiple SAMs were lifting off.
"Those coming from our target, Talisman?" He asked.
"Looks like it. Garuda 2, are you still with us?"
"Right on you, Talisman." Marcus replied.
The slopes began to pop up once again as they came upon another highway. It twisted back and forth through the woods and slopes to the midsection of one of the peaks. Past a pair of SAM sites and a few Tunguskas around a small town was the entrance to a tunnel. One of the main routes to flank around the Sipili Plains. Erwan centered the OSF's reticle on the entrance and kept it centered. Joan switched one of her displays up front to see the same and (reluctantly) switched from the Magic 2 air-to-air missiles on her wingtips to the Storm Shadow cruise missiles under her wings.
"Faucon this is Ghost Eye, multiple bandits spotted at Heading 010. Altitude is 6200 Meters, distance is 90 Kilometers…they're turning towards you. Cleared to engage." An E-3F Sentry far to the south reported.
"Copy that Ghost Eye. Garuda, what's your time to target?" Commandant Daniel Pollini spoke up.
"About 30 seconds, Faucon 1." Joan assured.
"Baron is moving to provide top cover for Garuda as a precaution." The lead Mirage announced.
Joan dropped her external fuel tanks in anticipation as the SAM launchers switched to their mounted radars. The symbology on her left display and HUD told her that they were ready to go; they just needed to get to the launch 'd be right on top of the Stovies, shoving the missiles right down their throats. Her thumb drifted between the launch button and the weapons selector switch as the RWR screen felt like it was getting crowded. The two Mirages from EDC 3/4, Red Baron, turned to join the Faucons of EDC 8/15 as Estovakian JF-17s were trying to close the gap.
"Owl, you two still have a solid lock?" Marcus's backseater, Major Maeva Chardin, asked.
"Ready to go." Owl replied, both to her and his pilot.
"Garuda 1, Rifle…Rifle." Joan reported calmly.
The two missiles dropped away and streaked ahead. As soon as four glowing dots were racing away from the two jets, Joan broke to the right and went back to her Magics. The RWR warned them that one of the SA-17 sites deeper in the valley had picked them up.
"Owl, hold tight and see if you can get a fix on those SAMs for Barons 5 through 8." She commanded.
"I'll do what I can." He breathed out, trying to brace himself for the imminent jinking.
"Garuda 2, break and evade."
Joan sucked down a lungful of cold oxygen and reversed, trailing chaff and flares. The Rafale's SPECTRA suite did all it could to slow down the enemy radars, but even that and an electronic warfare plane in the same skies as their AWACS couldn't stave off the inevitable. As Joan reversed to break the lock, she spotted smoke billowing from below, near a village.
"Got a SAM launch, Talisman! Make that two!" Owl reported.
"Yeah I see 'em; you got the OSF slaved to their position?" Joan replied through the forces of gravity.
"It ain't looking anywhere else. Passing along the coordinates to Baron as fast as I can."
Joan tightened her muscles even harder than before as she broke left into the valley the threats had come from. She wagered that the missiles were still accelerating, which meant she could get where they couldn't go in time. With so much weight gone, the Rafale was frighteningly nimble. The short-range defenses near the tunnel entrance made an effort to join; one of the Tunguskas had its radar on her, but she was just out of range of its weapons. Joan sunk down and pushed the throttles into afterburner; the SAMs were closing, but very obviously unable to match her maneuvers. In response, the SAM site fired two more missiles as she raced along the valley's rim.
"Garuda this is Baron 5, we're rolling in now! Hang on!" A familiar voice assured.
Sous-Lieutenant Stephen McCarthy, the "Sky Kid", and his wingman appeared from the east and nosed over into the fray. Joan grunted out her gratitude as the next two SAMs passed by very, very close. Her vision blurred and her whole body vibrated as she put the Rafale through a tighter turn than might've been recommended. She nosed up to avoid the Mirages as they dropped clutches of Belouga cluster bombs on the missile site. The sister site near the highway picked up the slack, but two more Mirages were racing in to help.
"Garuda 2, what's your position and status?" Joan asked, looking all around the second she could move her head again.
"Trying to get back to you, Garuda 1. Request you move west so we can avoid the sites near the tunnel." Marcus reported.
"Where are you?"
"Apologies, Talisman…Ah, we're to the east of you. Heading past the village to rejoin."
Joan looked in that direction as the RWR informed her a couple of SAMs had lifted off. None of them were aimed at her to her relief. She spotted one smoke trail heading straight up, like a space launch. The others had headed off in the opposite direction, probably trying to get the Mirages as they made their run. She saw Garuda 2 against the fading light and deployed a few flares to give them her exact position.
"Either of you know if the missiles reached their target?" Maeva spoke up.
"I think; there's smoke by the tunnel entrance." Erwan said.
"We'll let reconnaissance make the final call."
The banter was quickly interrupted by their escorts.
"Garuda this is Faucon, be advised that those bandits are trying to push us closer to the highway. Suggest you go for the alternate egress route." Pollini radioed.
"Understood, Faucon 1; sure you don't need any help? We got the petrol to stay around." Joan replied.
"We'll be behind you shortly, Garuda."
Despite the "suggestion", Joan came around as Marcus was approaching. As if they had a psychic link, Erwan zoomed out and checked behind him. He spotted two dots coming in fast, spread in a loose echelon left.
"Talisman, looks like we might have bandits. Two o'clock; looks like they just descended from the clouds." He declared.
He slaved the OSF's view to that piece of space while Joan activated the RBE2 radar housed in the nose of their aircraft.
"Shamrock, we've got two bandits moving in; looks like a pair of Thunders. Bank towards me, see if we can put 'em in position for a good first shot." She spoke up.
"Understood. Shoot fast, please."
Marcus tipped his Rafale towards Joan, who selected the two MICA-RF missiles tucked under the wing roots. The two JF-17s broke, with one going high and the other still closing with Joan and Erwan. It very quickly picked them up on radar and started trying to catch up to Joan for a missile shot. Joan increased the throttles as she passed by Marcus, who selected his Magics and ascended to confront the other Thunder. Joan dropped some more chaff to further delay the Estovakian, then launched both missiles the instant she had tone.
"Garuda 1, Fox 3 Fox 3." She declared.
She broke to the left and nosed down so she wouldn't run into Pollini and his lot. Despite the threat, the JF-17 lobbed a heat-seeking PL-9 after her. The SPECTRA system detected it and automatically deployed flares to distract the weapon's seeker head. She worked the throttles to haul her jet through a brutal snap to the right. The Estovakian had turned away from her to fight against the two MICAs getting closer by the PL-9 fell for a string of flares, but passed by so close above that its proximity fuse went off. Joan grunted and ducked her head down a little on instinct. She raised her eyes immediately as the MICAs' timers had hit zero.
"Owl, any alarms back there?" She called as she looked around for the Thunder.
"Yeah I'm fine, thanks!" He shot back.
"I know you're fine! You didn't start crying, so you're fine!"
"No alarms that I can see."
She caught a glimpse of a single finger in her rearview mirrors and smirked. The JF-17 appeared to her right, minus its wings. She couldn't see if there was a canopy or not, but it was all the same to her. She completed her turn, then banked up and away from the bandit. She rolled inverted and searched the sky until she saw her wingman against the snowy landscape. The second JF-17 passed by in front of him, just long enough for Shamrock to spit some 30mm at it.
"Shamrock, we're above and slightly below you. Where do you need us?" She offered.
"Help me keep him going left; we're gonna force him against the mountains." He replied.
Joan adjusted her controls and swooped down to the outside of the fight. The Esovakian reversed and slowed, only to find Joan coming down on him. He turned and hit the gas again, but he had to spend precious seconds regaining that energy. Seconds that would let the two Emmerians position themselves against him. As her RWR's picture changed, she nosed up and went high to keep the other Rafale covered. Marcus went wide and worked his way into the enemy jet's turn to deliver another burst from his cannon. He saw a few connect as he passed by, and in response the Estovakian pilot pushed his camouflage jet north as fast as he could. Marcus kept turning while Maeva started preparing a MICA shot. As they turned, the JF-17 was revealed to be running for a pair of Su-30MKEs. The two Flankers nosed up and split before rolling over onto Joan and her compatriots.
"Shamrock, you got eyes on those Flankers above and ahead?"Joan asked as she nosed up to take a shot.
"I see them; Dove is trying to get them locked up." Marcus replied.
"Watch your fire, I'm getting close enough for my Magics."
The Flankers responded with a pair of PL-9s each. Joan looked left as she broke into Marcus's forward quarter. Marcus moved to the right, trying to get her flares out of his field of view as fast as he could. He pushed the throttles forward as he spotted two of the missiles; the faster he could get in a good position the better. The Flankers passed by overhead in shallow dives. Maeva kept an eye on them, encouraging Marcus to stay focused on the missiles. The barrage followed their respective targets, which brought them very close to each other. Joan caught a flash as two got close enough to set each other off. The other two continued downwards, struggling to try and nose up. She turned into the final pair at the last second while Marcus nearly put his Rafale on its tail and pushed it upwards. The move nearly cost him his plane as he felt a shockwave from behind. He kicked on the afterburners in response to give him the extra boost he needed through the high-G move.
"Garuda 2, Garuda 2 you still there?" Joan asked as she glanced at the explosion.
"We're here, we're here! Still up, maybe a little shaken." Maeva replied.
Joan felt something tug at her from the inside, but clenched her teeth to keep it from translating to words. Instead she moved to help her wingman, her own pursuer be damned. The JF-17 looked to be turning back into the fight, but it pointed to the west and stayed on that course. She still ducked towards it to scare it off or distract it. Garuda 2 went into a loop, closing ranks so they could shore up their chances of getting out. The radar and RWR were also showing some promising signs.
"Garuda, this is Faucon, stay low. Faucons 1 and 2 are inbound from the west to push away those Flankers" Pollini spoke up.
"Copy that Faucon, break, Garuda 2 you're free to egress at will. Meetup will be at Navpoint 7, how copy?" Joan responded.
"Copy, see you there Talisman."
Joan pulled out of her ascent and went speeding towards the ground as fast as she could. One of the Flankers turned to follow, so she slowed and broke to the left. Despite the risks, she pulled back on the stick and leveled herself out a few hundred meters shy of the taller mountains. She shoved the throttles forward again as the Flanker kept up its pursuit. She ducked into the terrain between her and the enemy jet, forcing it to nose up and circle around. She planned to be gone by then…
Vitoze always left Joan feeling homesick. Not for Gracemeria, but rather her home before the air force. Racing down the slopes of the Eastern Selumnas with her siblings and cousins. The thought brought her to her mom's tartiflette, which made her mouth water a little. A warm, hearty meal after a day in the cold. She quietly wished that somehow, someway there'd be some of the stuff waiting in the cafeteria when she made it there. She might have a better chance of finding some in the city, if she was ever allowed to wander that way. She plopped her Rafale onto the long runway of Campagna Regional Airport with a sigh and brought the aircraft to a jogging pace in under a minute. Traffic was heavy as the bulk of the Armee De L'Air's remaining power squished into their spaces. Joan did count her lucky stars, though; the smaller airports in the area were even more crowded. Those at Silvat…well, she was dreading the day that the news came through there was no longer an ADA presence at Silvat.
Her final destination was a covered revetment on the tarmac, erected up against the hangers for airlines and cargo carriers. All of them were gone, having fled to other countries to resume operations. A man in camouflage fatigues waved her towards the rear entrance to the space. Joan was already prying off her safety restraints and oxygen mask as two more of her plane's ground crew hurried up with a pair of boarding ladders. Joan powered down the Rafale and opened the canopy as the chief climbed up to greet the two aircrew.
"Good evening, sir and madame. Get kills today?" He asked.
"A single JF-17." Joan replied.
His name escaped her; he was their third crew since the retreat. Erwan said it, but Joan instead stood up and pulled her helmet off. The wave of cool that flowed over her auburn crew cut was nothing short of bliss. She was just tired, very tired; it'd been her third mission of the day. She looked back at her black-haired WSO as he eased his way out of his station and down the ladder. She got down as one of the mechanics was handing over a stencil and paint can. Joan did have enough energy to use the latter to update their scoreboard on the side of the revetment. They sprayed the silhouette of a hawk on a piece of sheet metal, bringing the total number to 23. The two shook hands before they handed over control of the plane to the enlisted men and women.
"Good job as usual, Owl." She said.
"Same to you, Talisman." He smiled.
The two met up with Marcus and Maeva at their revetment so the four could walk to the spaces of EDC 8/28. Joan matched Marcus's pace as the man's gaze went towards his boots.
"They're plenty shiny, Shamrock." She remarked, though she knew that wasn't why he was looking down.
"You've got a persistent lack of tact, don't you Talisman?" He half joked, half protested.
"I'm keeping you focused for their sake. Abigail would want you to be focused so you can get back to her and Marie as soon as possible."
Marcus couldn't find a very good reason to argue against that. The four walked into a hanger and the makeshift locker rooms it contained. They split up and Joan was again taking things off before she was at her cubby. She lifted an arm and sniffed to determine if she needed a shower or just some more deodorant.
"Hey Fleur, did you see if the Commandant's bird was in its revetment?" She asked over her shoulder.
"Hmm? No, I didn't look in that direction. Why?" Maeva replied as she hung her flight vest on a hook.
"Because if we hurry, he won't get on me for looking disheveled during the debriefing."
"You're not gonna take a shower?"
"It's not looking like it's worth the effort."
Maeva let out a few "tsks" and walked over to her. The other woman gave her a look while the more willowy and motherly-looking of the two poked the tomboyish girl's cheek.
"Joan, being sweaty and dirty all the time is no way to live. Your skin will get all rough and dry. At your age that's the last thing you want." She chided.
"You make it sound like I never shower." Joan laughed in return.
Before Maeva could respond, Joan shrugged her flight suit off her shoulders and partly lifted the sweater underneath. She curled an arm up and shook a hand at her six-pack.
"Does this body look like it ain't being kept healthy to you? I need a nap more than anything." She bragged.
Maeva giggled and agreed, though she advised her fellow officer that she might also feel better after washing off some sweat. Joan simply decided to promise she'd consider it.
"Oh, I wanted to ask how you were doing. When you were talking to Marcus about getting back to people.." Maeva added.
"Fine. I miss my Baloo, but…I'm still trying to search for some peace. Or at least an understanding of why. It happened quickly, and he never felt any pain or knew what happened."
"I'm glad…that you have a clear headspace about it."
The woman sounded uncertain, but her junior wasn't. She looked at a picture of her big, box-shaped boyfriend and imagined for a second being able to play with his hair (to his irritation).
"Maeva, I can assure you that I have a handle on it. Solomon is gone, and dwelling on it will make me vulnerable. I'm processing it, in a healthy way I promise. Thank you for your concern; I hope you feel more at ease now." She insisted, more firmly this time.
Maeva looked like she might open her mouth again, but just smiled her usual smile and nodded. She left it at that and turned towards a row of portable shower stalls. Joan helped herself to a long look before Maeva slid into one of them. You help me more than you know, Maeva She thought wantingly. She looked over herself one more time and grabbed a towel. She'd probably sleep better if she was clean, and the trade of an hour of sleep was worth that. Besides, she'd actually be able to get a proper rest in this time; their next mission was about seven hours away.
