Over the next week, Avery was busier than she had even thought possible. Although she and the rest of the squadron hadn't gone out on a sortie since they retook Presidia, there was still plenty to do. Most notably, there was the matter of strategizing. As one of the senior-most officers still facing active combat, Grayson had come to value Shepard's tactical opinion quite a bit, and whenever he would be asked to help plan the offensive, he took Avery with him. She tried pressing him as to why- Dust Mother knew she was no tactical genius by any measure- but he never gave a straight answer one way or another.
"Call it… faith," he finally said with a twinkle in his eye. It was hardly a satisfying answer, but it was the clearest one she'd gotten all week.
Grayson stood hunched over a table with a map of Cascadia. The approximate frontlines and various CIF positions were crudely scribbled on with different colored markers. Finally, he exhaled heavily through his nose. "I don't like it," he said, straightening up to start pacing around the table. "We're stretching ourselves too thin."
Shepard nodded in agreement. "There's just too much ground to cover. At this rate we're going to have to push the offensive to keep them from getting too dug in."
"It's already happening," Grayson pointed out. "I'm already getting reports from the frontline that the rebels are starting to dig trenches with barbed wire scrawled across the top."
"Christ…" Shepard murmured.
Avery studied the map intently. Her brain was working in overdrive trying to make sense of it all. "What if…" she trailed off as she struggled to wrangle her thoughts together. "We tried focusing our attention on all their forces east of the channel?" she suggested. "That way we can outflank the ones on the west and box them in."
Both of them gave her something of a surprised look before thinking it over. "It's a possibility," Grayson decided. "But it would certainly be risky. If the rebels realize we're focusing our forces elsewhere, they could take advantage and push us even further back. Maybe we could-"
Suddenly a junior officer burst into the room, panting heavily. Once he regained his breath he shouted, "Commander, we have an emergency!"
He now had Grayson's full attention. "What's happened?" the Commander asked, hurrying over to him.
"We're receiving reports up and down Cascadia. We thought they were coming from just one spot but it's everywhere, we can't-"
"Out with it, soldier," Grayson snapped.
"They're hitting Yellowstone- all of it!" the officer told him. "Mercenary aircraft are pouring in from all over. They're taking out the geothermal plants!"
Avery's eyes widened. "What the hell are they doing?"
Shepard scowled. "They're trying to drain us of our resources."
"Damn them," Grayson grumbled. "Where's Crimson?"
"They're already inbound to the Appodock Fracture. The Crown was spotted there," the officer reported.
"Where else are they causing the most damage right now?"
The officer took a moment to think. "Er, off the top of my head… probably the Hayden Valley Fracture. They just have too many aircraft for us to deal with them all."
Grayson turned his attention to Shepard and Avery. "That means you're up, Locksmith. Get out there as fast as you can and take them down," he ordered.
Shepard was already moving. "We'll get it done, sir," he assured the Commander before gesturing to Avery. "Come on let's go!"
As the two pilots rushed to the hangars, Grayson sent an announcement over the PA for the rest of the squadron to do the same, saving them the trouble of hunting them all down. Avery's head was practically reeling with all the thoughts swirling around in her mind. How could these mercs do this- and moreover, how could the Cascadians let it happen? They claimed the whole reason they were fighting was to keep their cordium from feeding "The Machine" as they put it. Did they have any idea how many people depended on that cordium? The thought alone made her blood boil.
The others arrived at the hangar just a few moments after them, already dressed head to toe in flight gear. "We're here. What's the situation?" Cutter asked.
Shepard was already climbing into his cockpit. "We need to get to the Hayden Valley Fracture ASAP. We'll fill you in on the way," he told him as he began going through his pre-flight checks.
The other pilots did the same. One by one, the engines of their F/C-16s roared to life, and their systems came online. As soon as the hangar doors creaked open, the squadron was already taxying, taking positions on the nearest runways and getting airborne as fast as they possibly could. Once her wheels were off the ground, Avery pulled hard to the right, hurrying to get into formation with the others as they rushed to salvage whatever they could of the mess that had been sprung on them
"Dust Mother, look at all this damage," Avery said in disbelief as her eyes looked out upon the already scarred landscape, with plumes of smoke rising all over.
"Leave it to the mercs to know how to destroy something so thoroughly," Shepard grumbled. "North Star, Locksmith Squadron's on station. Requesting bogey dope," he reported.
"The aircraft came in from the north- bearing 340. Ever since they showed up they've been moving south along the fracture. Nearest ones to you are at bearing 030- eight F/C-15s fifteen clicks out. Maintain current angels and eliminate all aircraft in the AO," the AWACS told the group.
"Roger that, Locksmith Squadron engaging."
The audacity these mercs had; it drove Avery mad just thinking about it. All she could think about was all the people whose lives depended on the cordium brought into the Federation from this one facility alone- let alone all of them across Cascadia. More importantly, though, the rebels were just letting it happen. She let out a heavy sigh, lowering the visor on her helmet over her eyes and following her squadron into the fight. Before long, the flight of F/C-15s realized that they had company, and turned to face the squadron of Federation fighters head-on.
Avery's radar growled to life as it searched for a lock. Her MLAAs were eager to be let loose, and she would oblige them. The tone went solid as she zeroed in on one of the Eagles at the edge of the formation. She just had to wait a little bit more. Just as she heard her RWR chime up, she pulled the trigger and went defensive. The Fox 3 shot off the pylon, leaving nothing but a trail of smoke behind as it honed in on its target. Chaff lit up the sky from both Avery and her target, but only one would prove effective.
"Locksmith 6, splash one bandit," she reported.
"Ditto on that," Padlock chimed in.
"Their formation's broken," Shepard observed as the remaining six Eagles split off in all different directions. "All aircraft, move in. Chase them down, but don't forget that they still outnumber us."
"Not for long, they don't. Fox 3, Fox 3!" Cutter called out as an MLAA launched out from under his wing toward the enemy.
Several miles ahead of them, another explosion lit up the sky for but a moment- a telltale sign that his missile had struck true. "Jeez, are these guys even trying?" ASH asked in disbelief. "It's a miracle that the rebels have made it this far if these are the kinda mercs that they're hiring."
"I wouldn't get cocky just yet, Locksmith 5," North Star warned her. "Tally on five more bandits in a non-uniform flight formation- bearing triple zero, and about five minutes out."
Cutter let out an exasperated sigh. "Ya just had to go and jinx it, didn't you, ASH?"
"Oh whatever," she replied dismissively. "You're starting to sound like Salty."
Avery raised a curious brow. That was a name she didn't recognize in the slightest. "Who?"
"Pilot that used to be in the squadron- before your time," Pad explained. "He got rotated out a few months before we got you. No idea where he ended up."
"He was superstitious as all hell," Shepard added. "The whole reason we called him Salty was because he carried this little bag of salt with him everywhere to throw some over his shoulder."
"Y'know what the funniest part was?" ASH asked. "He was freaking out about that stray black cat that got onto the base, saying something bad was gonna happen and then he got transferred a week later."
Cutter sighed wistfully. "Damn I miss that guy. He was always a little nuts, but he was funny as hell, too."
"Locksmith Squadron, cut the chatter," North Star ordered. "Or did you forget that you've still got five Eagles to take care of."
"Hmph, you're no fun, North Star," Avery told him as she readied her STDMs for the merge.
"Oh, I'm plenty of fun, Locksmith 6, but you'll never see that side of me," he replied bitterly, making it clear as crystal that he wasn't going to fall for her banter.
Avery watched as the five F/C-15s came into view. Her eyes locked in on the one closest, and she turned to put her nose on them. Suddenly, her RWR blared and screamed, desperately warning her of the MLAA they fired while they still had the range for it. She back on the throttle immediately, pulling hard to the right and launching chaff as she went. Her radar warning beeped faster and faster as the missile grew closer, and at the last minute, she turned back toward her opponent. The MLAA came straight at her and flew directly over her canopy. As soon as the warning went silent, she yanked back on the stick, pulling straight up into the air and curling back around until she was on her target's tail.
'Nice and close already,' Avery thought to herself. 'Just gotta finish him off with guns.'
But the Eagle wasn't about to give up so easily. With one burst from her gun after another, the merc jinked left and then right. No matter how steady she flew, she just couldn't get a hit on him. Her target lit their burners, putting as much distance between themselves and Avery as possible. Finally, she conceded- throwing back her airbrake and firing one of her STDMs off its resting place on her wingtip. With no time to react, the mercenary was out of options, and the missile crashed into them. Avery quickly turned toward the next closest bandit, an F/C-15 on ASH's tail, and fired off an MLAA as soon as she had the lock. Fortunately for her, they were too busy focusing on their target that by the time they noticed the missile coming for them, it was already too late, and sure enough, the last F/C-15 fell from the sky.
"North Star, all Eagles are splashed," Shepard reported. "We're moving onto the next group of bandits now. Any others headed our way?"
"Affirmative, they just keep coming. You've got four Fulcrums inbound from bearing 300, and it also looks like… hang on, standby…"
"What's up, North Star?" Cutter asked.
"ALCON, be advised, we've got friendly helos coming in from the south to evacuate personnel from the facilities. Command says you're to ensure that not a single one of them goes down," the AWACS ordered.
"Say no more, North Star. We're on it," Avery replied, lighting her burners to meet the next group of mercenaries head-on.
The flight of five all flew different aircraft- an F/C-15 at the lead, flanked by an F/E-18, F/C-16, Accipiter, and SK.25. Avery smirked, the last two would be quick to take care of- no doubt they were loaded for air-to-ground attacks as well. By the time she had her MLAAs ready to fire, they were already locked on. Two missiles shot out from under her wingtips and sped toward the mercenaries. The other three mercs split off and went defensive as the rest of Locksmith went on the attack, leaving the other two to fend for themselves. The SK.25 went down almost immediately, but to Avery's surprise, the Accipiter just barely managed to outmaneuver the missile headed their way. Although it was nothing that a second MLAA couldn't solve. Having used up all their energy to defeat the first missile, the merc couldn't get enough speed to get away, and exploded shortly after. Avery was about to jump in to help deal with the rest, but a quick glance at her radar showed that the other mercs didn't fare much better.
"Only four bandits left" Cutter pointed out. "C'mon, we've got the momentum. Let's finish these bastards off."
"Friendly helos have landed and are boarding as many people as they can," North Star reported. "Press the attack and take down these last mercenaries, Locksmith Squadron."
Avery looked back at her radar, gauging the distance between her squadron and the last group of hostiles. They were already getting too close for comfort- too close for her last MLAA to do any good. No, this was going to be a knife fight. As soon as both flights passed one another, they all sprung into action, dipping and turning this way and that as they chose their dance partners. Avery locked in on one of the MG-29s headed away from her and readied her last STDM. Padlock was honed in on the same fighter, and together, the two of them chased the merc down. Pad lit his burner, closing the gap to his target as he let out a hail of gunfire. The MG-29 evaded with ease, and they were just about to take a shot at Padlock when he cut back on the throttle, dropping his speed and giving Avery an opening to take the perfect shot. The heatseeker found its mark in an instant, and once Avery pulled the trigger, it got there just as fast. With Padlock boxing them in, the merc had nowhere to go, and soon met their demise. Avery was quick to turn back toward the rest of the bandits, hoping to fire off her last missile, but by the time she got close enough, the other three mercenaries had all been dealt with.
"Locksmith Squadron, picture clean. All hostile aircraft confirmed destroyed," North Star reported. "Plus, all of the choppers are safely outside the AO. Good work today. Stand by and prepare for- wait. Hold on a sec." The air was heavy as the five Federation fighters all waited for more information. "Shit, we've got multiple bandits inbound from the north and closing fast. Tally six mercs in a non-uniform flight formation. They're all flying advanced fighters."
As if on cue, six more enemy air contacts appeared on Avery's radar. Two VX-23s, two SK.37s. and two F/S-15s. "Shit," she growled. "I don't have the ammo to take them on."
"Me neither," ASH reported.
"We wouldn't wanna take them on even if we did," Shepard told them. "North Star, Locksmith is disengaging."
"Copy that, push bearing 200 and egress from the AO as fast as you can. Hurry!" the AWACS insisted.
"All aircraft, use the terrain as cover," Shepard advised. "They'll have a harder time getting a bead on you."
Avery followed suit as the rest of the squadron lit their burners and descended to be amongst the hills and valleys. It was times like this where she wished that she wasn't the one bringing up the rear of the formation- times when she'd be the first one to get shot out of the sky. But there was still sizable gap between the mercenaries and them. She just had to make sure that gap didn't get any narrower.
"Holy shit," North Star remarked. "Locksmith, you're never gonna believe who you're getting chased by."
"Do we want to know?" Pad asked.
"Federation Intelligence has them marked as Compass Squadron. They're the last mercenaries from the border crossing that you intercepted a few weeks back- the Octant Group."
"Faaaantastic," Avery muttered sarcastically as she banked along with her squadron to follow the terrain. "So, we've got mercs with a grudge after us."
"Not even mercs like this will waste time and effort chasing us for too long," Cutter replied. "Just a little bit further and they'll realize we're not worth their time."
Avery looked over her shoulder at the mercenaries closing in on them- close enough that they were within visual range. "By the Dust, I hope you're right," she said with a heavy sigh.
One by one, the pilots of Locksmith Squadron pushed as fast and as hard as they could to get away. Avery was constantly looking over her shoulder, watching as the mercs got closer and closer. Suddenly, she heard beeping from her RWR- low-pitched and slow; they were looking for a radar lock, but they hadn't found it yet. Sighing to herself, Avery flipped the jettison switch for her last missile, letting it free fall to the ground and shedding just enough weight to give her the speed she needed. Sure enough, the mercs began to peel away, turning back in the direction they came from, and Avery let out a heavy sigh of relief as she rejoined the others.
"That was… way too close," Padlock said between heavy breaths.
"No kidding," Avery agreed. "Definitely do not wanna tangle with those guys again. That's for sure."
"Enemy aircraft confirmed disengaging," North Star reported. "Locksmith, you're clear to RTB."
"Wilco, thanks North Star," Shepard replied as he led the formation back toward Presidia. "What a day…"