April 18th, 2006
1050 Hours
Pearl Harbor, Hawaii
"...You know, this has to be one of the best ports to be based in," muttered Henrik Svenson as he lay in the tropical sun.
"Yeah," the woman sitting beside him replied enthusiastically. They were both wearing swim suits and sitting on the Hawaiian beach. It was a beautiful sunny day, with a light breeze blowing off the water keeping the temperature comfortable. The only sounds were the waves and the voices of the people having a good time. Almost like there wasn't a huge war going on.
Raina Gunderson frowned at the thought. Damn ponies and their damn war, getting her involved. She honestly couldn't care less. As far as she was concerned they should have stayed isolated. It wasn't her problem. She brushed away some of her brown shoulder length hair that had blown into her eye.
She heard some shouting and turned to look. Two familiar men were wrestling in the surf. "Boys," she muttered with a shake of her head.
They were off the HMCS Presence. The Canadian carrier had moved to Pearl Harbor soon after the war had began. They had been there for almost two weeks now. The Admiral had decided after the first week that a small portion of the carrier battle group's crew would be given shore leave each day. Today it was her flight, and some of the flight deck crew. The four CF-18 pilots had decided to have a beach day.
The two in the water were Lieutenants Lucas Bradley and Jonathan Banzer, her numbers three and four respectively. Henrik was her wingman, and she was the flight and squadron lead.
She watched the two in the water as they finished up their fun and came up the beach towards them. Lucas walked over and grabbed his towel beside her. Raina looked back out at the sea. When she looked back she caught him looking at her. She returned the stare for a second before he realized.
"I...uhhhhh..." he stammered, caught red-handed, "Hell with it. Has anyone mentioned that you look good in a bikini, Rainy?"
Henrik, who at some point had dug out a beer, did a spit-take while Jon looked like he was desperately trying not to laugh.
She just continued to glare at him unimpressed. "You're lucky we aren't on duty, Canuck."
"Awww. I love you too, Rainy!" he replied sarcastically. At that moment the radio in the group's beach bag squawked.
"Rainy, you there?" a female voice called. Raina quickly dug into the bag to retrieve the handset, all business.
"Yeah. What’s up, Rich?" she replied.
"I need you guys back on the ship ASAP. Gunderson, meet me in the Combat Direction Centre for a Squadron Leader's briefing in twenty." The radio said.
"Yes ma'am. I'll be there," Raina quickly replied. She returned the radio and turned to the three boys. "You get that?"
The three nodded and began to pack their meager beach supplies. They quickly stopped to change into comfortable civvies before heading to the docks. They quickly passed security and made their way to where the HMCS Presence was docked. The carrier was a thing of beauty. She was a British Queen Elizabeth-class modified for conventional flight operations. The four pilots went up the gangway into the hangar deck. Here Raina said goodbye to her flight mates and headed to her cabin.
It was a small thing with barely enough room for her bunk, desk, and a cabinet. That said, it was much more than most of the crew got. Perks of being an officer, she thought as she changed into her comfortable olive coloured flight suit. A minute later found her climbing the carrier's rear island to the Combat Direction Centre.
The room itself was normally full of activity as the controllers managed the CF-18s that were off on mission. Currently they were in port though, and no aircraft were in the air. A skeleton crew manned the radar and command stations, leaving plenty of room for three figures in flight suits to huddle around the chart table in the middle.
As Raina walked up the three turned to look. "Good you could make it Commander Gunderson." The woman on the other side of the table said as she returned Raina's salute.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Ma'am."
"Good." Captain Tessa 'Rich' Davidson nodded. The by-the-book woman was the commander of the Presence’s air group. The other two men at the table were the commanders of the other two squadrons aboard. Commander Westly 'Sneaks' Davit was a rather short man with a large beard. His head was shaven, making the Jewish squadron commander look rather unique.
The other Commander at the table was Ichiro 'Nip' Sakimoto, the son of Japanese immigrants. His face betrayed his heritage, but his English was excellent as was his flying.
"Right. Down to business," Davidson began. "To keep it simple the American Navy's been attacked by Bloc forces overnight during their exercise. Their power's more or less broken until their ships can get fixed, and that makes the Pacific open waters and anyone's game. Following this attack, the Bloc carrier forces have pulled back to reorganize while their Air Forces focus on the land bases in Equestria. With this lull the Aussies have decided this was a good time to send over their big shiny new battleship to Pearl."
Ichiro snorted at that and shook his head. "Oh Hell. Here we go."
Tessa looked at him with an annoyed glare before continuing. "The Sydney SAG left port on the 6th and as of oh-nine hundred today is here." She indicated a spot on the chart about halfway between Hawaii and Australia. "They have been detected and engaged by Bloc forces. Their last report indicates multiple air and sub attacks. We are being deployed to link up and provide air cover for the rest of her trip. Got it?"
The three pilots nodded. The Captain took this as an indication to continue. "Here's what is going to happen. We are leaving port as we speak. We will launch our first flights at dawn to provide a CAP for the Aussies."
"What about us?" Raina asked, "We will need our own CAP."
"Our CAP will be provided in rotation by our good friends of the 409th in their CF-18s out of Hickam, as well as the Hawaiian National Guard's F-22s. They are providing an AWACS for the operation. They will cover us so that we are free to cover the Aussies."
Raina nodded, satisfied. One of her best friends was the CO of the 409th TFS.
"Now, expect heavy air and sea attack against the SAG on their way in. Gunderson, Sakimoto: Your squadrons will be providing cover from air threats. Davit: You will be dealing with surface threats. We will have a rotating launches. Gunderson, one of your flights will take first shift. Sakimoto will go next. Then the Lynxes again and so on. We will rotate every three hours. I want the flight that is up next to be on ten minute readiness in case anything unexpected pops up. Davit. Your planes will be launching in pairs."
Westly nodded. "So basically, six aircraft over the SAG at all times. Two of mine and four of Rainy's or Nip's. With the next six ready to launch in case shit hits the fan."
"Correct." Tessa nodded, "Any questions?" The four stood for a second in silence. "Ok. Brief your squadrons and figure out which flights are taking what shifts. Dismissed."
The three Commanders snapped off salutes before they turned and exited the bridge.
April 19th, 2006
0550 Hours
“Not a morning person ma’am?” The galley staffer asked as Raina got herself a cup of coffee from him. Her only reply was to groggily shake her head and shuffle out of the mess. If there was one thing she hated about the military, it was the lack of sleep. She made her way through the passageways of the Canadian carrier. It wasn’t long before she reached the Squadron’s ready room. Inside found the other three members of her flight nursing their own coffees.
“Mornin’ Rainy,” Jon muttered, foregoing all formality. He was sitting in one of the chairs that filled the room like a movie theatre.
“Morin’,” she replied as she slumped down in a seat.
The four just sat for a good fifteen minutes in companionable silence, letting their tired bodies wake up with the aid of the caffeine. Henrik broke the silence with a sigh as he he pulled out a battered laptop and began surfing. Taking her cue Raina stood up and marched over to the front of the room. She glanced over the various boards showing the squadron rosters and other such things. Satisfied it was all in order she strode over the the computer in the far corner and began booting it up. It would have all the latest intel and orders for the upcoming day. She was inputting her security clearances when she heard a gasp. She spun only to see Henrik looking at his computer with a shocked look.
“What is it?” She intoned. No response was forthcoming so she spoke again, “Hey Odin. Snap out of it! What’s wrong?”
He seemed to pause for a second before saying in a quiet voice, “It’s an email from Uncle Daniel. About Chuck.”
“Your American cousin? The one who’s an Eagle driver?” Lucas asked. Henrik nodded so he continued, “How’s he doin’?”
“He’s dead.”
Raina’s heart leaped. She had only met Henrik’s cousin Chuck Svenson once during a Red Flag training exercise. She didn’t really know the specifics of their relationship but she knew the two had been fairly close.
“What happened?” Jon asked from the corner.
Henrik turned back to his computer and read for a second, “He was with that first Eagle squadron that deployed to Equestria. He was shot down in a dogfight with the griffons five months ago.” He read for a second longer and then slumped back in his chair. His face was blank with a thousand yard stare.
The four sat in silence. None dare spoke. Raina went back to the computer and finished logging on, running through intel and orders. She really didn’t know what to say. What do you say to someone who has just learned that one of their family members has died to enemy action? She thought to herself.
“Five months!?” Lucas nearly screamed, “Why the fucking hell did it take them five months to tell you!?”
“Calm down Canuck,” Jon spoke up, “It was probably classified or something.”
Lucas seemed to begin to respond but stopped and sighed. “They still should have told him.” He muttered in a much quieter voice.
The room lapsed into silence again. Raina couldn't help but think about what she would have done in Henrik’s position. A glance at the clock broke her out of her thoughts.
“You still good to fly, Odin?” She asked as she spun around and stood.
“Yes ma’am.” He replied with a nod.
“Good.” She spoke as she headed for the door, “Let’s go then. We need to be at ten minute readiness. That means gear on, sitting in the cockpit.”
Ten minutes later had found them doing just that. And so the next three hours had been spent sitting in the cockpit of her CF-18 listening to the radio chatter as Ichiro and his flight flew CAP over the Sydney SAG. The four Hornets of her flight were parked on the left side of the deck, aft of the twin islands. The only real excitement came when the AWACS called out a pair of enemy fighters. The SU-37s had come in, only to scurry away after the Hornets fired several AMRAAMs.
“Sketch. Porcupine one-one.” Ichiro spoke over the radio again.
“Sketch. Send it.” The AWACS replied.
“Porcupines are twenty Bingo.”
“Copy Porcupine. Standby.”
The radio had gone silent. Raina ran her eyes over the carrier deck for what felt like the hundredth time. Dozens of flight deck crew went about their duties. The Canadian Navy had taken many cues from their much more experienced U.S. counterparts as far as carrier operations were concerned. As such, the deck crews’ clothes were colour coded depending on their jobs. Red for ordnance, purple for fuel, green for catapult and machinery crews. The list went on. But Raina’s eyes locked onto the brown garbed aircraft handler that appeared right in front of her jet. He raised his hand and twirled one finger in the air. Raina gave him a thumbs up back. The signal was clear. Raina began flicking switches. Within a minute her jet was purring as its powerful engines came to life. It didn’t take very long before the jet was alive. She gave another thumbs up to the deck crewman. He made several more hand signals and let Raina edge forward.
She slowly taxied her jet out and turned left. It only took a minute before she was at the catapults on the bow. A yellow dressed shooter greeted her, giving hand signals guiding her to lock into the catapult. Just to her left Henrik was going through the same process.
“Lynxes, Radio check!” Raina ordered over the squad comms, “Lynx one-one, Rainy, pitter-patter let’s get at ‘er.”
“Lynx one-two, Odin, bring the thunder!” Henrik said, using his usual radio check response.
“Lynx one-three, Canuck, aboot time eh?” Lucas said trying, and failing miserably, to do a Newfoundland accent.
“Lynx one-four, Dee-Cee, ready to rock and roll!” Jon finished.
With the other three under her charge checked in Raina looked back to her right where the shooter was now. He was waving his hand above his head. She dropped the flaps to takeoff position and opened the throttle. He stopped, his hand still above his head, while with his other he pointed to several deck crew, making sure they were ready. He then crouched, and a second later brought up his hand pointing off the bow. Raina had three seconds to brace herself.
There was a thump, the Hornet seemed to bounce on its suspension, and the pilot felt herself shoved back into her seat by the acceleration. And she was airborne.
“Lynx, Sketch.” The words spoken over the radio snapped Raina back into the present. She had zoned out after the first twenty minutes of orbiting the Australian ships. They had been on station for over an hour.
“Lynx here.” She replied.
“Six plus bandits, angels one, bullseye three-four-zero for eight-zero. Move to intercept.” The AWACS rattled off.
“Copy. Lynxes moving to engage.” Rainy replied rolling right and bringing her jet to head north by northwest, while the other three Hornets followed.
A couple quick button presses allowed her to switch her active radio channel. “You get that boys?”
“Affirm Rainy.” Lucas responded for them.
The small formation flew on for another few minutes before the AWACS spoke again, “Lynx be advised, Bandits are now Bullseye three-four-five for five-zero.”
“Copy Sket-” Raina began before a small beep of her radar warning receiver in her cockpit cut her off, “-Scratch that Sketch, Lynx One-One has Bandit spike. We got Flankers.”
“Copy. You are cleared hot. Good luck. Sketch out.”
“Four has radar contact. Three- make that four contacts, heading zero-one-zero, thirty miles.” Jon cut in.
“I got em.” Henrik muttered.
Raina took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. Even though she had a good few thousand hours in the Hornet, almost all of that had been training. She had never actually seen combat. She had spent the last fifteen years of her life learning to fly, and then learning to fight while flying. All for that moment. She figured that the other pilots were having much the same thoughts.
Well, maybe not, “Dee-Cee, fox three!”
“Canuck, fox three.” Raina watched as the two missiles rocketed out in front of the loose formation the four were keeping, while Jon and Lucas broke hard left.
“Odin, we’ll press.” Raina ordered keeping her jet on course towards the enemy fighters while simultaneously locking her radar on one of the Su-33s.
“Copy.” The two continued for about ten seconds more before the very distinctive tone of a hostile missile launch beeped through her headset.
“Fox, breaking defensive,” She reported as she fired off an AMRAAM before she broke hard right. Even as she turned, like any good fighter pilot she was scanning her instruments while scanning outside for the incoming missile. It was good she did as a glance at her radar revealed more contacts. “There’s two more behind them, thirty miles angels five.” Another few seconds of maneuvering and she spotted the enemy missile scream past one of the other Hornets.
“Missile defeated!” She heard Henrik’s voice say.
“Splash! We got one!” Jon spoke a second later.
“Splash two!” Henrik reported.
“Missile launch! Make that two!” Lucas cut in, “Defensive!”
There was another few moments of silence as Raina kicked on her afterburners and pumped out chaff to confuse the missile, while also trying to maneuver to get another AMRAAM shot. Her heart nearly stopped as she spotted the missile still a fair distance away off her nose and above, but making a beeline for her jet. “Shit!” She didn’t even think as her training kicked in, snap rolling left. The missile screamed by what felt like less than a meter away. “Holy crap that was close!” She muttered to herself. “Splash two!”
After that heart stopping moment she took a second to look around and compose herself. She could see the other three Hornets nearby, all scattered around from their evasive maneuvers. A glance at her radar showed the hostiles considerably further away than last she checked. A radio call from Odin quickly informed her of why; “Vampire! Two,-three missiles! And two more after us!” She looked down to see three sea skimming missiles pass below.
“Lynx, Sketch. Hostiles are bugging out.” The AWACS reported.
“Copy Sketch. Three Vampires! Repeat, three Vampires!” She reported, using the codeword for anti-ship missiles, even as she turned to avoid the other two parting air-to-air missiles.
“Missile defeated!”Jon reported. Raina felt herself grin at that. Two kills for no friendly loss. Not bad for their first engagement. But what she heard next nearly made her heart stop.
“Mayday mayday mayday!” Lucas was nearly yelling. Raina was able to look around before she spotted his Hornet high above. It was little more than a small speck but she could see it was on fire and leaving a huge trail of black smoke. “Lynx one-three! I’m hit! Ejecting!”
“Sketch, Lynx one-three is down,” She quickly informed the AWACS. She looked back up at the doomed fighter. To her immense relief the small white dot of a parachute was left in its wake. “Visual on chute.”
“Copy Lynx. I’ll get a Aussie chopper to pick your pilot up.”
“Got it. If you could get our relief up there that would also be great.” She spoke, only now realizing how tired and sweaty she felt.
“Affirm.”
The Pilot’s rec room was always busy in the evenings. Some were playing at the pool table, while some of the others played foosball. Raina, Henrik and Jon on the other hand were having a heated Mario Kart competition on one of the TVs. It was a day to celebrate. The carrier pilots had had their first taste of combat and spirits were running high. In total the pilots had killed six enemy aircraft attempting to attack the Australians. They had only lost two CF-18s in response, one of which was Lucas, but both pilots had ejected and been picked up. Not only that, but the two Task Forces had rendezvoused and began their journey back to Pearl Harbour.
Raina grinned as she passed Henrik on the final stretch, “Yes!”
“Heh, nice job Rainy.” A familiar voice spoke from behind the couch the three were sitting on.
“Dee-Cee!” Henrik grinned as he stood up and caught the smaller man in a bear hug.
“Jesus! Odin! Stop!”
“Hehe,” Henrik chuckled releasing his flightmate, “So how were the Aussies?”
“Great! They actually had beer!” Lucas grinned.
Jon just grinned, “You lucky bastard.” He patted the free spot on the couch beside himself, “Mind joining us?”
“Mario Kart?” Lucas said, “Sure, I'm in.”
The next day found the four back on the flight deck. The day had dawned sunny and clear, a beautiful day for flying. Their shift as the Combat Air Patrol wasn’t until noon, but they were on standby at ten, ready should the previous CAP need reinforcement. Currently they were sitting between two of their Hornets chatting.
“-I’m just saying, Vancouver has far better weather than Toronto.” Raina was saying.
Lucas shook his head with a smirk, “If you like rain maybe.”
“Oh, come on guys,” Henrick butted in, “everyone knows Calgary is the best.”
Raina looked horrified at that, “Negative thirty is your idea of best?” She shivered, “That’s way too fucking cold. Give me rain any day!”
Jon, who had mostly been silent, couldn't help quipping “Really living up to your callsign there, Rainy!”
The woman just fixed him with a scathing glare while Henrik chuckled, “Yeah what kind of Canadian can’t take the cold?”
“Vancouverites apparently!” Jon shot with a chuckle.
The three chuckled continued for a few seconds before a loud blaring alarm cut them off.
“All hands, general quarters, general quarters! Man your battlestations!”
The four just shared a look before a second voice came over the speakers, “Lynx Flight, Scramble, Scramble, Scramble!”
That got them moving as the four burst into action. Raina ducked under Jon’s Hornet to where hers was, scrambling up the ladder into the cockpit. A crew man came up behind her and began helping her strap in. With one last tug he gave her a thumbs up and went back down.
Raina grabbed her helmet and placed it on. As soon as her helmet was strapped on she began flicking switches and going over her startup checklist. Satisfied, and with the engines now purring she looked outside to once again see an aircraft handler begin directing her. She was soon slowly taxiing towards the catapults at the bow. She took the moment to turn on her radio and flick over to the proper channel.
A panicked sounding voice greeted her, “-ayday! Mayday! Porcupine three-three is hit! Eject-...OH FU-!”
There were several seconds of silence before; “Switch, three-three is down! No chute!”
“Switch, Lynxes are two mikes from air.” She spoke up holding her mask up to her mouth, “Hooking for cat shot now.”
“Copy Lynx.” The controller's voice was calm, “Porcupine three is down to two. No Vampires. Four bandits are engaged with Porcupine, six more are pressing, eighty miles now.”
“Lynx copies, will inform when airborne.” Raina spoke, while simultaneously locking into the catapult. A minute passed as the deck crew made their last preparations. Her eyes once again locked on the yellow garbed shooter. It only took a moment before he kneeled and pointed off the bow. Raina felt her jet accelerate as the catapult flung the Hornet off the ship.
“Lynx, Switch,” the Controller actually sounded a bit worried, “bandit pop-up group, angels one, zero-one-two for forty miles.” Raina felt her eyes snap open in surprise. In modern naval combat forty miles was nothing. How the bandits managed to get that close without being detected should have been nearly impossible. She quickly fastened her oxygen mask over her face.
“You with me, Odin?”
“Affirm,” Henrik replied, “Less than a klick on your six.”
Raina rolled the jet left, pulling around north. There was no time to wait for Jon and Lucas to launch. Those enemy aircraft were too close. A beeping alarm informed her of this fact, she just reacted and broke hard, pumping out flares and chaff as she went. She spotted one of the missiles as it flashed past behind her. She quickly reversed and went slightly inverted dodging a second AAM. She had to roll back upright and pull up sharply, almost skimming the waves.
“OH FUCK! Ten miles!” Odin shouted. A glance at her radar confirmed this, as the enemy jets just kept coming, bearing down on the two CF-18s. Raina pulled back around getting her nose pointed at the enemy. She didn't even bother locking her radar on, blindly firing an amraam in the general direction of the enemy aircraft. “Rainy! Fox Three!” She reported, immediately breaking into evasive maneuvers and pumping out more chaff and flares. She didn't even know if her amraam hit or not. As she began a right turn around to bring her nose back on target she spotted a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye.
Right there, less than a mile off the top of her canopy, was an enemy Su-37 making a beeline straight at her. She felt burst of fear and adrenaline slam through her. “Holy-!” She burst out, snap rolling inverted and heaving back on the stick. She felt the G-forces crush her down into her seat, and she fought not to blackout. Over the sounds of her own jet she made out the rapid banging of a cannon followed by the roar of a jet engine as the enemy fighter zoomed past. She immediately rolled back upright and turned hard left after the enemy fighter. She was quick to select an AIM-9, as she lined up on the Flanker which had rolled into a left turn. There was a steady tone in her ears and she hit the trigger. The heat seeking missile flew off her wing tracking the enemy fighter through its turn and impacting right between its tailpipes.
“Fuck yeah! Splash one!” Raina grinned at her victory as the watched the enemy aircraft smash into the water. She was shaken from her reverie by a three rapid metallic thumps followed by some yellow balls whizzing past her cockpit. It took her a second to realize that they were tracers.
“Oh FUCK me!” She exclaimed, throwing her jet to full afterburner and diving right down to the waves. She rolled right, then left, even pulling up into some barrel rolls trying to throw of the enemy pilots aim. Tracers kept flying past periodically. “This is Rainy! I got one on my six!” She soon spotted the fleet nearby, and made a run for it hoping the anti-aircraft would shoot the enemy off her.
“Sorry Rainy! I have some problems of my own at the moment!” She heard Odin reply. As she passed the first few escort ships, the fighter pilot pulled up climbing to about eight hundred feet, bobbing and weaving all the way. She could see the fleets guns and CWIS opening up on her trailer.
And then disaster struck.
A missile launch warning came over her ears. She didn't even have time to even try to evade before the missile fired from her pursuer hit, as it crossed the mile between in a second. There was a loud bang and her aircraft tumbled. Her heart leapt into her mouth and she felt a brief burst of terror fill her. She instantly knew the aircraft was done for. Reacting quickly, she yanked the ejector handle.
There was a bang and the canopy was ejected. There was a quick roar of a rocket as Raina was shoved into her seat by G-force. Her seat pushing her up and clear of the doomed Hornet. She felt her seat fall away and there was a moment of freefall. Her parachute soon opened with a yank and she began floating down sedately. It took her a second to slow her hammering heart, hyped up on adrenaline as the past ten minutes had been.
Raina let a sigh of relief as she watched her CF-18 smash into the water, it’s entire right wing missing and tail area blasted. She could see the fleet’s CWIS opening up, putting thousands of gatling gun rounds into the air after the Flanker, which was more than enough to tear the plane to pieces. The enemy pilot followed her example and quickly ejected.
It was then she heard a familiar watery sound behind her. It took her a moment to realize it was that of a ship cutting through the waves. She twisted around in her parachute harness to look back over her shoulder. Coming towards her was the Presence in all her big grey beautiful glory.
“Oh you gotta be shitting me!” Raina burst out as a huge grin found it’s way onto her face as she realized she was going to land right back on the deck she had so recently launched from. “HA HAAAAA! Yes! Best ejection EVER!”
She could already see several of the deck crew running to where they thought she would land. It took another ten seconds as the Presence’s Bow slipped past beneath her. She came down just aft of the bow catapults. Three deck crew were waiting below. She hit the deck hard enough to stumble and fall on her ass. Two of the deck crew grabbed her, holding her down while two others pounced on her parachute canopy quickly folding it up so it wouldn't billow and drag her down the deck. One of the two hit the release on her harness. Raina let the man slip it off over her shoulders. “Thanks,” she muttered.
The two quickly began to guide her off to the right side of the flight deck. There were still jets trying to get into the air after all. They sat her down, and one wandered off, likely back to his job.
The fatigue hit her like a truck a the adrenaline high wore off, and she let herself flop back on the deck. “Hey, you alright?” A voice asked. She glanced to her right where one of the two who had helped her was crouching. She couldn't see much of his features under his helmet and goggles, but he was wearing the yellow garb of a shooter.
“Yeah…” Raina muttered still mostly out of breath, flopping her head back down, “Just gimme a sec.”
“Adrenaline at it's finest!” He replied with a grin. He fished out a plastic water bottle from his belt and offered it to her, “Wouldn’t be surprised if that Fight or Flight response saved your ass up there.”
Raina sat up and grabbed the offered water. “Yeah well, it's more like flight and fight in my case.” she joked as she opened the bottle and took a sip.
The shooter chuckled, “True that! Anyway, I gotta get back to work. I’d take a quick visit to the medbay if I were you.” He stood up and began walking back to the bow, “Have a nice day, Commander!”
Raina watched him go before turning back forward. She hadn’t been paying much attention before. But now she noticed the big Aussie Battleship only a kilometer or two off the Presence’s right side. The Sydney was big. Not as big as the Canadian carrier but close.
She was shaken from her marveling at the battleship by the sight of a small object behind it. A Hornet was skimming the waves towards the fleet about ten kilometers out, with a Flanker hot on its heels. She could only watch as a missile shot off the Russian designed jet with barely restrained fear. Luckily the Hornet pilot was on the ball, snap-rolling right and dumping flares with inhuman reaction speed. This also had the consequence of clearing the line of fire.
Almost as one the Sydney’s guns opened up, putting up a variable wall of anti-aircraft fire from her CWIS and 5-inch mounts. The enemy pilot tried to evade but it was far too late as rounds from the CWIS began to pepper the aircraft. It seemed almost to stagger, and would have plunged into the sea of the coup-de-grace hadn’t been delivered by a 5-incher slamming straight into the fuselage. The explosion ripped the plane to pieces.
A moment later the Hornet came buzzing silently over the ships at mast height. For a second Raina though its engines had been destroyed. That assumption was shattered as the jet passed over the carrier at over the speed of sound with a earsplitting sonic boom. Raina couldn't help a childlike giggle at the sheer awesome.
There was a reason she’d wanted to be a fighter pilot after all.