Vrijpoort
Establishing Nation
Mainland Badlands - 156km north of New Cathay's peninsular border
The pilot was flying over his last search quadrant of this sortie. His
He banked the aircraft to the right and levelled again. Some hills in the distance marked the limit of his quadrant. He'd reach them in a few minutes, turn around and head back to base where a shower and some noodles awaited him as well as the latest episode of
'Peninsula Command to Sky Fox 3, status report, over'.
The pilot glanced down to a chart and checked his fuel gauge and other vitals.
'Sky Fox 3 to Peninsula Command - this quadrant is blue, no signs of trouble. Preparing to head ba--'
He was cut off by the plane's alert system. The pulsing buzz and red light only meant one thing.
'What the fuck?' he blurted out.
'Peninsula Command to Sky Fox 3, repeat?' the ATC controller wasn't used to be cussed at.
The pilot double checked everything but it was indubitable - his jet was being targeted by someone. But who? There was no military aside from the New Cathay Expeditionary Forces for hundreds, probably thousands of kilometres in every direction. The tribal militias and pirates didn't have surface to air capabilities either. At least the Sky Force hadn't come across any in decades of dealing with the bastards. He wasn't going to risk it so he increased his thrust to get up to combat speed and took a defencive posture before radioing back.
'Peninsula Command Code 2, Code 2! I'm being targeted, repeat I am being targeted. Combat speed reached and taking a wide loop, over'.
The ATC controller new that a fighter pilot of the NCEF Sky Force would never joke about something like that and he also knew that his training and meticulously maintained aircraft wouldn't give false readings. While calmly replying to the pilot the controller pressed an orange button on his console to put the station on high alert. He'd need support for this. As part of the standard operating procedure for combat communications the formalities instantly disappeared over the radio to save time. Only to be used to avoid confusion. But with Sky Fox 3 the only bird in the zone, that wouldn't be a problem.
'Sky Fox 3 you have full operational command. All previous mission restriction voided. Weapons use permitted, over'.
The pulsing buzz suddenly became constant and more lights began flashing in the cockpit. Fucking hell I guess I'll miss Shark Tank this week he half-joked to himself as a way to stay calm. The jet was target locked. He increased speed further and started an emergency 90 degree angle climb to put some distance between his plane and whoever was targeting him.
'Command I've got missile lock. Taking evasive manoeuvres. Requesting backup, over!'
By now the ATC post, located at Juliana Peak, the Sky Force's air base on the Lower Peninsula, was in full alert. Two more SkyDragon jets were on the tarmac being emergency prepped for takeoff. The ground crews were finishing final steps. The pilots were being briefed via in-ear radio headsets as they sprinted to their planes. The Sky Force's standard of keeping secondary jets on standby, fully fuelled and armed, meant the two planes were on the runway taking off simultaneously within 90 seconds of the ATC controller's call to combat alert. The soon reached mach 1.7 and headed north towards their comrade.
'Sky Fox 3 two friendlies already en route. Status?'
The pilot's heart stopped for a beat when the radar showed a missile inbound and every possible alarm in his cockpit started screaming at him. His training kicked in, but he was scared nonetheless. It was coming from a northeasterly vector, right where those hills were and not far where a Sky Force combat helicopter had destroyed a militia weapons stockpile cave earlier in the week. He made a mental note to relay that back if he survived. There was no time to think intelligence. He had to put the plane to the test. Thrust was full and he had reached 17,000 metres by now but the missile could catch up quick if he didn't start some fancy moves soon.
'Preparing to dodge. Flares maybe...I think...no the tanks are too heavy...Fuck!...' the heavy breathing and sheer speed of the plane made it difficult for the ATC controller to hear everything.
He could see the contrail of the missile now. Shit that thing's a fast motherfucker! He banked left, dove, pulled up again to a steep climb, tried to do a flip and then a bank to the right. No good, the bastard was right on his tail now. It would eventually keep up despite the jet now flying at mach 1.8, it's maximum speed. The G forces were uncomfortable but he had done plenty of G force evasion exercises - he could handle the physical pressure.
Let's try something else then...he prepared to launch flares. Banking sharply right he released the flares meant to confuse the missile's heat-seeking sensors and then quickly went into a sharp climb after release. He levelled the jet and looked down. Fucking bitch! The missile didn't take the bait and was only briefly disoriented.
He needed speed. He had a third fuel tank underneath the fuselage and thought whether to release it. If it worked and gave him the edge to gain some speed and lose the missile in the hills, it could work. Then again without it he might not have enough fuel to make it back to base and there wouldn't be time to do an aerial refuel from another jet. He didn't have time to calculate his fuel levels and consumption. He released it and instantly the fighter jet increased it's speed.
Meanwhile the two jets that had launched from base were not far off now.
'Sky Fox 3 this is Sky Bear 1 and 2. We have you on radar. 5 minutes out, over'.
'Can't do it!...too fast...ejecting! Mayday Mayday Mayday!' the pilot wouldn't have been able to reach the hills in time to try and lose the missile. Ejecting was his only chance. He pulled the lever and the glass cockpit roof was jettisoned in less than a second. His jumpseat was propelled upwards a safe distance from the jet. Within two seconds the missile smashed into his plane and erupted into a fireball. The heatwave was the hottest thing he had ever experienced and the noise was deafening even with his helmet and headgear on. The parachute deployed and he caught his breath as he slowly descended down to a green meadow below. The only sound he could hear was the not-so-distant sound of two Sky Force SkyDragon jets on their way to his location. It was comforting. He started to cry.
'Command this is Sky Bear 1 and 2. Confirm that Sky Fox 3 safely ejected. Missile made contact. Orders, over'.
ATC was hectic but orderly now. A Sky Admiral had entered the room and was watching camera feeds of Sky Bears 1 and 2. The ATC controller paid the admiral no heed. His job was to get these boys, all of them, back home.
'Sky Bear 1 proceed to hunt launch site, follow missile vector - sending data to your comms. Weapons hot, repeat weapons hot. You have clearance to engage ANY confirmed launch site. Sky Bear 2 remain in defencive circular loop around Sky Fox 3's landing zone. Evac team underway, over'.
The Sky Admiral finally spoke, 'Good job Commander. What kind of team are we sending up to bring him home?'
The ATC controller, actually a Sky Force Fleet Commander, Second Class (as most combat ATC controllers were), wiped his brow with a handkerchief before responding, 'Four more SkyDragons, three attack helicopters, two medi evac helicopters and we are launching an EWACS and one tanker to the theatre. Task force should reach the landing zone in one hour. Extraction should take 90 seconds'. He paused for a moment, 'Admiral, who could have had a SAM like that in the Badlands?'
'Now's not the time for questions, son. Whoever it is, we will find them, destroy them and then go hunting for more. Keep me updated. I need to inform the Senior Minister'.
The pilot was flying over his last search quadrant of this sortie. His
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jet was flying low, just a thousand metres above the rolling green hills and rivers below him. This land was lush and mostly empty. No power had claimed these lands in centuries. The border to Xinhai was a couple thousand kilometres away. Just a few small villages dotted some riverbanks. The people who eked out an existence here survived mostly on subsistence farming, river fishing and the hunting of boar, deer and other small animals. These villages were marked as known and neutral on his sortie chart. They didn't get involved with the armed tribal groups and pirates that harassed New Cathay's civilian shipping fleet and northern border.He banked the aircraft to the right and levelled again. Some hills in the distance marked the limit of his quadrant. He'd reach them in a few minutes, turn around and head back to base where a shower and some noodles awaited him as well as the latest episode of
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on GoldStar Entertainment 1. His comms flashed and he heard ATC's voice:'Peninsula Command to Sky Fox 3, status report, over'.
The pilot glanced down to a chart and checked his fuel gauge and other vitals.
'Sky Fox 3 to Peninsula Command - this quadrant is blue, no signs of trouble. Preparing to head ba--'
He was cut off by the plane's alert system. The pulsing buzz and red light only meant one thing.
'What the fuck?' he blurted out.
'Peninsula Command to Sky Fox 3, repeat?' the ATC controller wasn't used to be cussed at.
The pilot double checked everything but it was indubitable - his jet was being targeted by someone. But who? There was no military aside from the New Cathay Expeditionary Forces for hundreds, probably thousands of kilometres in every direction. The tribal militias and pirates didn't have surface to air capabilities either. At least the Sky Force hadn't come across any in decades of dealing with the bastards. He wasn't going to risk it so he increased his thrust to get up to combat speed and took a defencive posture before radioing back.
'Peninsula Command Code 2, Code 2! I'm being targeted, repeat I am being targeted. Combat speed reached and taking a wide loop, over'.
The ATC controller new that a fighter pilot of the NCEF Sky Force would never joke about something like that and he also knew that his training and meticulously maintained aircraft wouldn't give false readings. While calmly replying to the pilot the controller pressed an orange button on his console to put the station on high alert. He'd need support for this. As part of the standard operating procedure for combat communications the formalities instantly disappeared over the radio to save time. Only to be used to avoid confusion. But with Sky Fox 3 the only bird in the zone, that wouldn't be a problem.
'Sky Fox 3 you have full operational command. All previous mission restriction voided. Weapons use permitted, over'.
The pulsing buzz suddenly became constant and more lights began flashing in the cockpit. Fucking hell I guess I'll miss Shark Tank this week he half-joked to himself as a way to stay calm. The jet was target locked. He increased speed further and started an emergency 90 degree angle climb to put some distance between his plane and whoever was targeting him.
'Command I've got missile lock. Taking evasive manoeuvres. Requesting backup, over!'
By now the ATC post, located at Juliana Peak, the Sky Force's air base on the Lower Peninsula, was in full alert. Two more SkyDragon jets were on the tarmac being emergency prepped for takeoff. The ground crews were finishing final steps. The pilots were being briefed via in-ear radio headsets as they sprinted to their planes. The Sky Force's standard of keeping secondary jets on standby, fully fuelled and armed, meant the two planes were on the runway taking off simultaneously within 90 seconds of the ATC controller's call to combat alert. The soon reached mach 1.7 and headed north towards their comrade.
'Sky Fox 3 two friendlies already en route. Status?'
The pilot's heart stopped for a beat when the radar showed a missile inbound and every possible alarm in his cockpit started screaming at him. His training kicked in, but he was scared nonetheless. It was coming from a northeasterly vector, right where those hills were and not far where a Sky Force combat helicopter had destroyed a militia weapons stockpile cave earlier in the week. He made a mental note to relay that back if he survived. There was no time to think intelligence. He had to put the plane to the test. Thrust was full and he had reached 17,000 metres by now but the missile could catch up quick if he didn't start some fancy moves soon.
'Preparing to dodge. Flares maybe...I think...no the tanks are too heavy...Fuck!...' the heavy breathing and sheer speed of the plane made it difficult for the ATC controller to hear everything.
He could see the contrail of the missile now. Shit that thing's a fast motherfucker! He banked left, dove, pulled up again to a steep climb, tried to do a flip and then a bank to the right. No good, the bastard was right on his tail now. It would eventually keep up despite the jet now flying at mach 1.8, it's maximum speed. The G forces were uncomfortable but he had done plenty of G force evasion exercises - he could handle the physical pressure.
Let's try something else then...he prepared to launch flares. Banking sharply right he released the flares meant to confuse the missile's heat-seeking sensors and then quickly went into a sharp climb after release. He levelled the jet and looked down. Fucking bitch! The missile didn't take the bait and was only briefly disoriented.
He needed speed. He had a third fuel tank underneath the fuselage and thought whether to release it. If it worked and gave him the edge to gain some speed and lose the missile in the hills, it could work. Then again without it he might not have enough fuel to make it back to base and there wouldn't be time to do an aerial refuel from another jet. He didn't have time to calculate his fuel levels and consumption. He released it and instantly the fighter jet increased it's speed.
Meanwhile the two jets that had launched from base were not far off now.
'Sky Fox 3 this is Sky Bear 1 and 2. We have you on radar. 5 minutes out, over'.
'Can't do it!...too fast...ejecting! Mayday Mayday Mayday!' the pilot wouldn't have been able to reach the hills in time to try and lose the missile. Ejecting was his only chance. He pulled the lever and the glass cockpit roof was jettisoned in less than a second. His jumpseat was propelled upwards a safe distance from the jet. Within two seconds the missile smashed into his plane and erupted into a fireball. The heatwave was the hottest thing he had ever experienced and the noise was deafening even with his helmet and headgear on. The parachute deployed and he caught his breath as he slowly descended down to a green meadow below. The only sound he could hear was the not-so-distant sound of two Sky Force SkyDragon jets on their way to his location. It was comforting. He started to cry.
'Command this is Sky Bear 1 and 2. Confirm that Sky Fox 3 safely ejected. Missile made contact. Orders, over'.
ATC was hectic but orderly now. A Sky Admiral had entered the room and was watching camera feeds of Sky Bears 1 and 2. The ATC controller paid the admiral no heed. His job was to get these boys, all of them, back home.
'Sky Bear 1 proceed to hunt launch site, follow missile vector - sending data to your comms. Weapons hot, repeat weapons hot. You have clearance to engage ANY confirmed launch site. Sky Bear 2 remain in defencive circular loop around Sky Fox 3's landing zone. Evac team underway, over'.
The Sky Admiral finally spoke, 'Good job Commander. What kind of team are we sending up to bring him home?'
The ATC controller, actually a Sky Force Fleet Commander, Second Class (as most combat ATC controllers were), wiped his brow with a handkerchief before responding, 'Four more SkyDragons, three attack helicopters, two medi evac helicopters and we are launching an EWACS and one tanker to the theatre. Task force should reach the landing zone in one hour. Extraction should take 90 seconds'. He paused for a moment, 'Admiral, who could have had a SAM like that in the Badlands?'
'Now's not the time for questions, son. Whoever it is, we will find them, destroy them and then go hunting for more. Keep me updated. I need to inform the Senior Minister'.
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