Chp. 6: First Fight at First Light
November 27th, 2015
Just off the Coast of Khesed
The morning's fishing was subpar in the opinion of the boat captain. Which meant another day of having to pay their "provisional tax" to the Estovakian authorities with most of their catch. They'd gone out a bit further than was wise, hoping to make up for that. So they could at least have some food rather than handouts from their new masters. The seas were just unpleasant enough that he had to keep his thermos in his grip almost all the time. The situation left him in a very irritable mood. He almost snapped at his lookout for calling through a hatch above for him.
"Captain, got something on the horizon. Looks like a warship. Stovies might be looking to do a random inspection." He said.
The older man could tell that the young sailor was anything but pleased. Deciding to take a look for himself, he followed the man to the observation deck and accepted a pair of binoculars. His subordinate pointed out a small shape on the horizon and the Captain raised his binoculars to look. As he'd been told, it was an Estovakian corvette, moving at an angle in their general direction. The captain estimated they were 15 or so kilometers away. He looked into the orange sky for any sign of a helicopter or patrol plane.
"We'll wait until they signal us. Until then, business as usual Mael." He sighed.
"Yes sir; sorry to bother you."
"It was something to do, Mael; this morning has been shit."
The captain was lowering himself back into the pilot house when Mael called to him again. He rose up in time to see the warship launch something. For a second, he thought it might be heading for them. Instead it raced off into the distance. No sooner had it started to fly off then another followed.
"He's shooting at something." The captain mused tensely.
He turned to face the main deck, where his fishing crew was watching the spectacle.
"Secure the nets! We're getting out of here." He ordered.
The captain took his position near the helm as the crew sprang into action to get the motors running. His attention was jumping from one matter to the next when he saw a white speck on the horizon. He grabbed another pair of binoculars and focused them on it. It was a missile, and it appeared to be heading in their direction. He hurried to a handset and dialed the engine room.
"How soon until we can get underway?" He asked with an uncharacteristic amount of anxiety.
"Should be another minute, sir. What's wrong?" His head engineer replied.
"Just get it up and running, Benoit, and soonest. You do and the next bottle of rum is on me."
The captain hung up without waiting for an answer and went back to watching the object. He failed to notice that there were at least two others flying alongside it. He felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders when it became obvious it wasn't aimed at them. The missile passed by close enough that he could make out most of its features. It was big, with trapezoid-like fins protruding from the center. Just then, the sound of the boat's diesel engines rumbled up from below. The helmsman started forward, then looked at his boss for orders.
"We're moving down the coast until things settle down." The captain replied.
He stepped out again just in time to see the Estovakian ship swallowed up by an explosion. He grabbed the railing in front of him, but the explosion was little more than a strong breeze by the time it reached their vessel. The ship turned from the burning corvette and gained speed. The captain moved back and held onto the door frame as they hit waves. Another shockwave reached them.
"Jets, sir! Starboard side!" Mael called from behind…
Freddie barely noticed the fishing boat as he passed over it; his attention was focused on his radar. They hadn't even reached the coast when the Estovakians had come charging out in force. At the head of the force were three pairs of Su-27SKs, moving from their stations around the port of Gerritt. Four were heading in his general direction and he was trying to bait them so that Serac and Torrent could pounce from above. Blizzard was behind him, a few hundred meters higher, working so the two could fire their MICAs simultaneously. On Avalanche's command, the two turned towards one another and deployed strips of chaff before bracketing the Estovakian jets, The Flankers split and increased speed in response; Freddie let out a breath as his plane's EW suite was working overtime to keep the Flanker from getting a solid lock-on. He steadied his aircraft and kept his nose on the Estovakian. He was just outside the range of the Flanker's long-range missiles; Freddie assumed they were the further-reaching AA-12, just to be safe.
"Lead, got 'em both locked up." Paul declared.
"Got 'em too! Execute!" Freddie replied.
He followed up with a pair of "Fox 3" calls and sent two MICA-RFs at the enemy jet. His wingman did the same, and the two again moved towards one-another. This time they joined up again while the Flankers were split, seeking to drive a wedge between the enemy aircraft. The lead Flanker turned to try and engage them, only for Freddie to snap towards him and launch a third MICA.
"Tempest 1, Fox 3!" He reported.
That Flanker fired back with two "blind launched" AA-12s and turned to break. With three missiles now closing, its lifespan was down to seconds. Freddie nosed up and stayed vertical until he was certain that the missiles had no chance of getting a solid bead on him. He rolled inverted and came down as the Flanker was caught between two of his missiles. He watched the Estovakian aircraft explode with a bit of relief; they might be able to follow the Etendards to their targets after all.
"Tempests 3 and 4, what's your position?" He radioed.
"Still above you, Tempest 1. Circling around to attack that second Flanker with Tempest 2." Serac reported.
Freddie leveled out and banked in that direction while Andre and Darche pursued the remaining bandit further north, where four more Rafales from 12F were keeping two more Flankers boxed in. He decided that they should move towards land while they had the chance; the Etendards were only a minute or two away from crossing the coast.
"Tempest 5, you have a single bandit moving your way. Tempests 3 and 4 are in pursuit. Tempest 2, join up with me." He radioed.
Paul acknowledged and came back to the left at increasing speed. The two Rafales leveled out around 6700 Meters and raced over the jagged cliffs below. The coastal hills rose and fell beneath him like waves. Tracers floated up and puffs of black smoke appeared several hundred meters above as the Estovakians' remaining defenses hoped to get lucky. Freddie was more worried about missiles with the speed they were going at. Andre and Darche settled into position five kilometers to his north for a few seconds before both pairs split in different directions. The nearest airborne contacts were far off for now. The nearest SAM threat was the SA-10 battery guarding the airport at Durman. Closer to him, someone below decided to launch a pair of HQ-7s at the CAP. Freddie and Paul broke in separate directions and dropped flares as two more were launched at them.
"Tempest 1 this is Dagger 1, we're feet dry at this time and heading towards our primary target." The lead Etendard advised his escorts.
"Copy that Dagger, good hunting. Tempest shows the skies are clear, save for that flak. Watch for short-range SAMs near the highway. We just drew out a few." He replied calmly.
Freddie felt his grip on the stick tighten. He let it tense as he reversed to shake the missile, then relaxed it when he realized it was a bad sign. He was getting impatient, which could lead to getting wrapped up in micromanaging himself. He swung in the opposite direction and watched as the SAM tried to follow. It went ballistic and left him free to continue inland.
"Tempest 5, Hurricane, what's your situation?" He called.
"Still engaged with two remaining bandits. Shark 1 and 2 should be heading your way with the strike aircraft." Hurricane replied.
"Copy, don't chase them too far if they start heading towards the CAP from Chevalier."
His Operations Officer clicked his mic twice while his flight returned to their original positions. The two Rafales from 19F fell in above the Etendards, but it was only a minute or so before the Estovakians were rallying to attack again. The mission's Hawkeye caught them first.
"Tempest, Shark, this is Starman, we've detected a new force of bandits moving in your multiple groups, high and low. Nearest is at Heading 280, About 40 Kilometers and closing. Altitude is somewhere below 300 Meters. Be advised you've got a group around 7000 Meters moving in fast." A controller aboard the E-2C radioed.
"Copy Starman, break, Tempests 2 and 4 stay high and track those guys hauling it. Tempest 3 and I will get low to deal with the closer bandits." Freddie replied.
After a round of proper acknowledgments, Freddie checked to make sure they'd gotten past the AA and SAMs. When he was sure he was clear, he nosed down and brought up his IRST's camera. He moved back and forth in a deliberate pattern, keeping the Estovakians in his radar's view the entire time. The system automatically began picking out targets both high and low as they entered the maximum range for his MICAs. The RWR's tone lapsed into a cycle as his SPECTRA went back and forth with the enemies' radars. It did the job well enough to buy Freddie time to pick out a pair of bandits. The image from his IRST revealed it to be a pair of F-7G Airguards. Yet another piece of hardware the Veruseans has sold the warring factions during the civil war.
"Avalanche, got two, no, make that four more bandits turning in our direction. Two moving high and fast." Paul reported.
"Got enough MICAs to take all four?" Freddie replied.
"Plenty, Lead."
"Stay close either way, break, Shark stay with Dagger until they hit their IP."
"Copy that, Tempest."
Freddie selected three of the F-7s for his remaining MICAs, checking the skies around him as the radar switched from monitoring them to tracking them. The Airguards were fighting in pairs, coming at the Rafales in a swarm. It was very common for them to do this to sneak in another two behind a formation. Freddie had Serac and Torrent go low to look for them. The ones he'd targeted moved to try and break his lock, so he nosed up and rolled over to get above them for a better angle. One of the pairs turned towards him, then broke away and turned towards him again. Freddie took the shot while the F-7s were turning towards him the second time.
"Tempest 1, Fox 3 Fox 3." He radioed.
Freddie immediately broke away and nosed up to ascend even higher above the fight. He banked back towards the fight and saw that he'd managed to make Airguards at lower altitude split from their pairs. Paul descended and the two came at the nearest Airguards in a loose pair, moving faster and faster with each second. The Estovakians were scrambling to stay alive, save for the targets the furthest away. The Flankers that'd been hanging back were now charging in as fast as their engines could push them. Freddie selected one of the Flankers while he closed with the Airguards. He felt a bit of relief when he saw a flash dot the dawn sky, followed by two more.
"Tempest 1 this is Tempest 5, we're feet dry at this time and moving towards you as fast as we can. Estimate about three to four minutes before we're on scene." Hurricane piped up.
"Copy that Five, glad to have you on scene either way." Freddie replied distractedly.
That distraction was one of the Flankers firing an AA-12 at him. Freddie almost pushed the launch button to fire back, but survival instincts took over. He broke left and deployed chaff while his wingman went in the opposite direction. The second half of his flight split and helped form a pincer movement against the incoming bandits while Shark moved to low altitude to look for the anticipated sucker punch. As Freddie shook free of the single missile fired his way, he became aware of movement to his right. He looked down to see one of the F-7s ascending towards him. He broke into the attack as the Estovakian fired a PL-9 half a second too late. Freddie looked for the bandits wingman, but couldn't spot him.
"Blizzard, I'm engaged with a single bandit. Airguard; you see his wingman anywhere?" He called.
"Copy, his wingman is coming in from your nine o'clock high! Watch out, the two of 'em are gonna pass real close. Stay right and keep ascending!" Paul warned him.
Two camouflage blurs passed by his charcoal-colored aircraft, close enough that he felt himself vibrate a little in his seat. The three jets got as far away from each other as they could for a second after that close call, but it didn't mean that Freddie was safe. As he came around, he discovered that one of the Flankers was closing on him. The Stovie jet fired a PL-9 at him, then banked away higher into the sky. Freddie ducked to the left and dropped flares; Paul fired a single MICA at the retreating jet while his lead cut back to the right and dropped more flares. One of the Airguards was coming around to get its nose on him while its wingman seemed to be moving towards the coast.
"Shark and Dagger be advised, at least one bandit is heading your way." Paul warned.
The second Airguard made a pass at Freddie just as he'd freed himself from the Flanker's missile. The Emmerian banked away at such speed that the smaller jet couldn't follow him. He looked back as the Airguard turned to his left and into afterburner. Freddie came around as the Flanker was again turning to engage, but this time the Sukhoi product had to contend with Tempests 3 and 4. Freddie jinked behind them as they forced the Flanker to break off and switched to his Magics.
"Appreciate the assist, guys." He radioed.
"Gotta rack up the rounds you owe for when we get home, Avalanche." Serac quipped.
Avalanche ignored the banter as he moved into position against the Airguard. By now, the strike aircraft had caught up to the fight. Naturally, that made them far more appealing to the Estovakians than their escorts. Freddie had something to say to that, though.
"Tempest 1, Fox 2." He radioed.
He stayed on the F-7's tail, albeit loosely, until the Estovakian maneuvered away from him. He looked towards the Super Etendards to make sure they were okay, then turned to stay after the Airguard. Paul stayed above as he dueled with two more F-7s handily. It was becoming more and more apparent that the Estovakians had more of the type committed than he'd first thought. He looked over his shoulder as he brought his nose towards "his" F-7 again. In the meanwhile, his Magic had managed to turn around with the Estovakian and was closing the distance. At first it seemed like the missile would lose its target; it was outside of the Stovie's turn. Then, as if given one final push, it rushed forward and detonated just in front of it.
Freddie braced himself and pulled away as fast as his hand could work the control stick. He went upwards several hundred meters, past Paul as the man was pushing an F-7 towards the ground, and topped out well above the central furball. He aimed his aircraft at the Etendards and dropped down to help them as a single F-7 had made it past the Rafales. His focus fell on one of the trailing Super Etendards as the Airguard separated it from the rest of the formation. The two jets weaved back and forth, slowing and straying from the rest of the Etendards with each change of direction. Freddie descended in a spiral pattern, speeding up when the F-7 fired a missile at the attack jet. The Emmerian jettisoned his ordnance to maneuver while the Airguard closed. The two jets were too close for Avalanche to trust his missiles. He switched to his cannon and caught the F-7 as it was coming around for another pass.
"Etendard engaged with that Airguard, break right and climb so I can get a good shot!" He radioed.
"Copy, copy!" The friendly pilot replied.
Freddie throttled back and pulled the stick back as far as he could. The Gs skyrocketed for a second as he got his nose ahead of the F-7. He squeezed the trigger and his GIAT 30 rattled off around two-dozen rounds. The first few fell short, then an erratic series of sparks danced across the rest of the plane's fuselage. Freddie expected the Etendard to break away and either rejoin the formation or head for the coast. Despite the damage to his plane, the Estovakian reversed hard to get away from the Rafale. Freddie followed and the two ended up in front of the Super Etendard as it tried to get away from the fight. When the F-7 was almost in front of it, the overager pilot Etendard pilot jerked to get lead and fired a burst from his two 30mm cannons. Freddie bit back a curse and nosed up as fast as he could.
"Dagger, check your fire!" He scolded.
The younger pilot fumbled over an apology as he gained some distance. Freddie traded all the momentum he could for a good position to finish the Airguard off. The Estovakian tried to maneuver, but it was too late for him. Freddie fired another short burst into the plane. He kept his breaths calm and steady as he worked the throttle and eased back from the edge of stalling. He leveled out less than a thousand meters above the ground, but never once did he feel like his plane was beyond his control. Shaken enough, the lone Super Etendard had turned towards the coast and relative safety. The remaining strike aircraft, in the meantime, raced through the hole their escorts had created and moved in to attack their primary targets…
Capitaine de Corvette Henri Auvray ditched his external fuel tanks as he and his wingman hit their Initial Point. They broke to the left and dumped chaff as an Estovakian Gainful battery tried relentlessly to get a lock on their aircraft. On his signal, the two Etendards split for the first run on their target. Auvray pushed the throttles up to afterburner and flipped up his master arm switch. The Gainful battery was on his mind every step of the way, even as the Rafales tried to suppress it. By all accounts, the gangly pilot and his comrades in 8F should've converted to the same type by now. If it hadn't been for the damned Stovies he thought. Auvray loved his plane, but he was also a realist. They also didn't have many spares left to draw from; each plane had become worth its weight in gold.
All of this was well in the back of the officer's mind. He'd flown well over a hundred missions since that fateful day in August, and many more before that. Today's adventure into unfriendly airspace was no different. He selected the six Osean-made Mk.82 bombs under his wings and fuselage and craned his neck to check his surroundings one more time.
"Dagger 1, into attack." He announced.
The hills and trees gave way to vast plains. He passed over the small city of Saint Dumande, where a few Estovakian gunners took shots at him. He was going too fast for the guns. His attention was centered on a bunch of shapes at the edge of his vision. His RWR picked up two search radars from a pair of ZSU-23-4s, and he immediately hooked left, then right to foil them. Behind them was the headquarters of the Erusean 50th Guards Division; Auvray focused on a group of APCs and tents and set his countermeasures to automatic. THis windscreen was filled with tracers coming up from every weapon in the vicinity, but he kept the throttles firewalled and nosed down ever so slightly.
"Dagger 1, bombs away!" He called.
Three of his bombs fell away while he went nearly vertical and streaked away from the incoming fire. His wingman was right behind him as he came off his bombing run, but the two split immediately to draw some of the heat off Daggers 3 through 5. Auvray attracted the attention of a pair of Iglas and deployed flares as he came around. As he weaved back and forth to shake them off, the rest of the force roared in from the north to attack enemy positions near the roadway. He came around and shook the first Igla as he nosed down. He saw the second turning to try and catch him, but it disappeared behind his Etendard before it exploded. He felt his plane shake from the explosion but stayed in his dive. His eyes fell on the smoke coming from the headquarters and he decided to make sure it'd been knocked out. He zeroed in on a cluster of trucks and APCs with several antennas and dishes atop them.
"Dagger 1, bombs away." He repeated.
As soon as the bombs were away, he pulled off and banked towards the coast. His wingman went outside his turn and Auvray took a good look at him.
"Gecko, you've been hit; what's your situation?" He asked as he checked behind them.
"My rudder is sluggish. I probably have a few leaks but it's hard to tell right now. If I do, they're small." Tempest 2 replied.
Auvray looked back again and saw tracers desperately trying to follow them. Most of the missiles went after the others this time. The two remaining, that was; Auvray was greeted by the sight of a black cloud that trailed down to the ground. He decided they'd taken enough of a beating.
"Dagger 1 to flight, primary target has been destroyed. All aircraft egress east towards Tempest and Shark." He instructed.
He dashed from spot to spot across the sky, moving just slow enough to ensure the others could catch up. Freddie brought his Rafales closer to them to make sure no one was following. He also wanted to keep the remaining Airguards and Flankers at bay. He looked at the destruction the Etendards had wrought one final time before pulling his subordinates back to block a Flanker that was moving towards them. A major link between General Yurevich and his command had been severed. The general's body had been trapped under the collapsed, burning heap that'd once been a tent.