//------------------------------// // Running the Gauntlet (TotallyNotABrony) // Story: Nearing the Edge // by Eagle //------------------------------// April 21st, 2006 21:63 Hours Yokosuka, Japan Source Tippecanoe had been prepared to sail with an amphibious group before being detached for a patrol just outside Japanese waters.  Discovering a Shadow Pony ship and a Changeling submarine - and sinking them - had sent her back to harbor for an after-action report and rearming. It was an agonizing wait while resources were gathered to sweep the surrounding waters.  Seventh Fleet command wanted no more nasty surprises. Neither did Captain Hart. However it was somewhat unexpected that Hart found himself and his ship tasked with new orders to rejoin another group – a carrier strike group. The aircraft carrier Ronald Reagan had been hit in the initial strikes.  Limping to port with no remaining escorts, it was a miracle the carrier had made it at all.  Now, Reagan was getting underway to transit back to the United States’ west coast.  Damaged in the initial strike, and with no Japanese ports large enough to handle the repair or willing to draw the attention of the Arcaian Defense Bloc, the only option was to brave a hostile ocean and return home for overhaul. The carrier was not completely useless.  One deck catapult still worked and the arresting gear cables could be easily replaced from spares carried aboard.  There were a handful of fighters in working condition. By itself, however, the ship would be quickly overwhelmed by any dedicated attack. That was where Tippecanoe and two destroyers – Barry and Stout– came in.  If they moved fast enough, the group could outrun just about any Bloc ship or submarine.  For aircraft, the three protecting ships carried some of the most sophisticated anti-air systems ever deployed. However, the Bloc had already shown their hand and they weren’t bluffing.  This was war, and even the United States Navy was on the defensive. Their objective was not to fight, only to get Reagan back to the US. It was difficult to hide the disappearance of three ships from harbor and easy to guess the destination of a damaged US carrier.  The Reagan strike group left Japan without fanfare, and headed east with as much speed as could be sustained. The nuclear carrier could run at more than thirty five knots indefinitely.  Tippecanoe struggled to reach that speed, and the destroyers couldn’t do much past thirty.  More pressing a concern, the three smaller ships needed to refuel periodically. The carrier held more than three million gallons of jet fuel aboard.  Damaged as it was, Reagan would be crossing the ocean with a bare half of its air wing.  The other aircraft had been left in Japan to help with the fight there.  With the lack of flight operations, the extra fuel could be pumped off to feed the hungry turbine engines of the escort ships.  They could burn JP-5 just as well as diesel. But even without needing to stop for resupply, it would take an agonizingly long time to cross the ocean – time that the ships would be vulnerable to strikes from the Bloc.  With the Americans and their allies knocked back, the Bloc probably had the confidence to make use of the sea control they had gained. Hart was confident in his ship’s abilities, but still felt concerned about the mission ahead.  Out on the open ocean, if an attack came, there was no way to get reinforcements. The fight had to be won using only the courage and training of the crew and the resources they carried aboard. The trip was planned to last ten days.  The Pacific was simply too large to cross any faster.  It was certainly large enough to accommodate a whole new continent like Arcaia.  However, Hart thought, as the carrier group got underway, it might not be big enough for the Bloc. He was not a strategist.  Despite his paygrade, such decisions were made far above him.  Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what the Bloc’s goals could be.  They publicly wanted to overtake Equestria. Secretly, could they be aspiring to even more?  Was their strike against human countries outside their island the prelude to something greater? That thought served to harden Hart’s resolve.  Even if the Bloc wasn’t planning to invade the United States or its allies, they still had to be stopped.  The endgame was difficult to perceive from the bridge of his ship, where only placid blue ocean could be seen, but on a tactical level, Hart had already decided that, mission permitting, he would not hold back engaging the enemy when the opportunity presented itself.  They wanted war, and they would get it. War was often a contradictory thing, however.  Despite the purposefulness and resolve of the American public after being attacked, the Reagan carrier group left Japan quietly.  Emissions control was in effect. All electronics were turned off and would be for the duration of the trip.  There were obvious downsides to EMCON, but the major advantage was that it would hide the formation of ships from anything but a random encounter by the enemy.  They could be detected, but only if enemy forces got close enough to actually hear them or see them on radar. Without any electronic emissions to mark their passage, there would be no cues to vector in an attack. The Bloc did not possess significant shore based radar stations.  Their technology was improving through imports of military equipment from Russia and China, but they could not detect ships several hundred miles from their coast. Running in EMCON hid the American ships, but unfortunately meant that they were mostly blind.  Not totally, just mostly. They could still detect the low powered navigational radar of merchant ships and steer clear.  They also received message traffic sent from US satellites. Occasionally, they would risk a burst transmission, but that was carefully controlled.  The Russians and the Chinese had certainly shown willingness to cooperate with the Bloc. It was not out of the realm of possibility for them to share their electronic intercepts, either. The days passed slowly as the strike group steamed east between Alaska and Arcaia, taking a route as direct as possible while still keeping their distance from threats.  No connectivity meant no contact with the outside word. Hart tried to relax, to make the time go by, but knew he couldn’t. He kept rereading order of battle reports for the Bloc military and trying to pick out patterns that intelligence analysts hadn’t already discovered, anything to keep his mind engaged and in the fight. The third day, a priority message arrived. APR 212103Z INDICATIONS OF MULTIPLE TU-22 BACKFIRE TAKING OFF FROM GOLDENSHORE AIRFIELD The Backfire bombers were Soviet equipment either bought or copied from Russia.  Goldenshore was in Griffon territory, and it was usual for their strike aircraft to conduct maritime patrols.  The Backfire could carry powerful anti-ship missiles. The message’s sources were not clearly stated.  The information could have been obtained from overhead satellites, intercepted communications, or some other national sensor.  How it was acquired was not as important as the content. Hart hesitated, but decided to stay passive.  The launching bombers could just be a training mission.  If they were, and especially if they weren’t, then activating his ship’s radar would only draw attention.  The downside was that if the Bloc aircraft launched missiles at the ships, there would be very little warning. Hart was the air warfare coordinator for the carrier group.  The duty naturally fell to the Captain of the most capable air defense ship.  He had the authority to order missiles fired from his ship and others. He could also order intercept fighters launched. Having already been on alert, an F-14D Tomcat spotted on the carrier’s functioning catapult warmed up.  Within ten minutes it launched, immediately followed by another. More jets were spotted for takeoff. The fighters carried AIM-54 Phoenix missiles, the longest ranged air-to-air missiles in the world.  However, the Tomcats stayed quiet with their radars off. For three long hours, the sailors on Tippecanoe, the carrier, and the two destroyers manned general quarters.  Everyone had their protective gear on and watertight hatches were shut. But eventually the all clear came.  The enemy bombers had returned to base.  As if every crewman had heaved a relieved sigh, the spaces were set back to regular conditions and the stuffy compartments began to ventilate again. The same exercise was repeated two days later, only this time it wasn’t a drill. F-15C Eagles based in Alaska had been patrolling the airspace north of Arcaia.  They had yet to venture into the continent for any offensive counter air operations, but that was a possibility for the future.  At the moment, they made fine air coverage for the transiting carrier group. They were in place for the First Battle of the Aleutians. It was a lookout on the top deck of the carrier’s island that first spotted the patrol boat.  It was low on the horizon, but unmistakably a small, armed ship. The surface warfare coordinator, Hart’s counterpart for sea-related combat, ordered Barry to engage.  The destroyer took the range and launched weapons. The small Osa boat never had a chance.  A pair of SM-2 missiles in surface mode obliterated its topside and the boat was gone, the fireball sizzling out as it sank. However, the enemy combatant had apparently managed to get an alert out.  Minutes later, messages about bombers launching – more than a dozen of them – started to arrive. “General quarters, general quarters, all hands man your battlestations!” They had been found, and now the primary task shifted to defense rather than concealment.  Hart ordered every radar to be turned on. The powerful SPY-1A phased array radar aboard Tippecanoe and the slightly smaller SPY-1D sets aboard the destroyers began to light up the sky.  The carrier moved to trail, staying quiet to let the smaller ships draw attention away. Meanwhile, Tomcats began to launch. Coordination with the Air Force controllers took some time, but when the Eagles were within range, the ships should be able to pass them target information through datalinks.  However, it was the Tomcats that drew first blood. The two alert jets each carried a pair of Phoenix missiles.  It was far from their maximum payload, but all they could carry of the large weapons while still maintaining decent range and performance.  Turning south to face the threat, racing forward at maximum afterburner, they fired from a range of one hundred miles, scoring three kills on the bombers. Following the missiles in, the Navy jets closed the distance, aiming to make use of their Sparrows and Sidewinders, and cannon if it came to that.  However, the Backfires – all thirteen that remained – were already launching their heavy ship-killing missiles and turning to run for home. Caught without targets and low on fuel after speeding to intercept, the Tomcats could only take potshots at the missiles as the pilots reluctantly turned back towards the carrier.  One of the Sparrows actually made contact, but that still left twenty five enemy missiles - “vampires” - on the radar screen. Coming from the north, the Eagles fired a volley of AIM-120 AMRAAMs, knocking out seven more of the enemy missiles.  The jets had already overrun the speeding targets before they could fire again, so the Air Force planes set up a patrol line, unfortunately unable to do anything but guard against another enemy air attack. With eighteen incoming missiles, Hart ordered weapons free.  SM-2’s began to erupt from the launch cells of the three missile ships.  The friendly aircraft drew off towards the east and west to deconflict. The enemy missiles dropped low to the sea, skimming the waves for their final attack run.  Their numbers were dropping as American shots exploded around them, but Hart gripped his chair as he watched the targets on the large screen display in CIC. There was some lag in the display system, but that didn’t hide the fact that one missile still remained on course for Stout.  When the two symbols merged, Hart heard the explosion, even deep in CIC. “Eyes!” Hart ordered.  In a moment, an external camera feed was on the screen.  Stout was engulfed in smoke. Knowing the damage reports would come, Hart ordered the radar operators to keep searching.  The surface warfare coordinator ordered Barry to come alongside the damaged Stout to lend assistance.  The enemy missile had hit the aft superstructure, putting half the engines out of commission and knocking several systems offline. As the damage was still being assessed, one of the crewman in the CIC yelled a warning.  “Volcano – active missile seeker bearing one three six true!” Another sea-skimming missile had come over the horizon to the southeast, this one apparently fired from a ship, as no airplane had been detected.  It was close enough that the missile had gone active and was searching for a target. Barry turned sharply and raced to get clear for defensive weapons firing.  The damaged Stout, weapons offline, took the hit.  This missile impacted further forward and lower than the last, cracking the hull and throwing a fireball into the air that rose higher than the mast. Confusion and panic reigned for a moment before Hart grabbed up the microphone, ordering the airborne Eagles to shift to the southeast and search for the launch platform.  It was not strictly his jurisdiction, but they were under his tactical control. Long minutes passed as Stout burned and sank lower in the water.  Reagan had pulled alongside, but even with water hoses it didn’t look like the destroyer would be salvaged.  Helicopters were taking off to pick men from the water and Hart ordered both of Tippecanoe’s launched. The Air Force pilots reported back.  A small boat, perhaps another Osa was a few dozen miles over the horizon.  The surface warfare controller immediately ordered them to strafe. The F-15C was no ground attack jet, but their 20mm Vulcan cannons could do serious damage to a small 200-ton boat.  Each Eagle made passes on it, and according to reporting from the pilots, an explosion blew the vessel apart. “Good effect!  We're also seeing some secondaries.  Likely a few of the anti-ship missiles they were carrying went up.” That was too bad for them.  The old Termit missiles the Osas carried had thousand-pound warheads.  If one of those went off, or even just the fuel, the boat was more than finished. By this point, the Navy’s contribution to the fighters overhead were returning to the carrier.  Ordering the other two ships to assist the damaged Stout, the carrier turned into the wind to recover the Tomcats. That was when the Eagles reported radars on the horizon.  The jets did not have sophisticated equipment for electronic signals collection, and it took a few minutes to get a rough bearing and some communication with the ships to determine what was out there. To help with the efforts, the carrier launched an S-3 Viking.  The only jet that specialized in surface warfare, the Viking carried weapons and sensors to attack ships. But to be on the safe side, four F/A-18C Hornets armed with Harpoon anti-ship missiles were launched as quickly as their crews could climb aboard and roll to the catapult. There had been precious little time to plan the mission, but between the surface and strike warfare coordinators, the group of jets formed up and headed out to find their targets.  By that point, the position of the enemy ships had been crudely established. The Eagles had begun to run low on fuel and had to turn back toward Alaska.  The Navy jets pushed forward under the air coverage of Tippecanoe and Barry.  The Viking set up station and was able to determine from signal characteristics that an enemy surface action group was inbound.  The SAG apparently consisted of two old Kashin destroyers and an Krivak frigate.  All were Russian designs, apparently bought to quickly increase the Griffon Navy’s numbers faster than building ships. The Kashins were the bigger threat, able to carry SS-N-25 Switchblade missiles.  They were somewhat inferior to the American Harpoon, but nothing to discount.  They had to close to within seventy miles to employ them. But that wasn’t going to happen. The four Hornets, each carrying four Harpoons, were ordered to attack the SAG.  There was no time to pick precision targets, but with that many missiles split among three ships it didn’t matter. The S-3 reported fireballs, even from over the horizon.  A Hornet cautiously moved closer to assess damage with its FLIR pod.  One of the Kashins was dead in the water with heavy damage after two hits.  The other ships were completely out of action. The above-waterline missile hits wouldn’t immediately sink them, but the hulls were as good as scrap. However, on the American side, Stout was in much the same condition.  Hit by missiles considerably heavier than a Harpoon, she wasn’t going to make it the rest of the way.  As many crew members as possible had been evacuated, and it was time for the rest of the strike group to leave before the Bloc launched another attack.  The surface warfare coordinator ordered Tippecanoe to sink her damaged fellow to avoid anything sensitive falling into enemy hands. The pair of five inch guns on Tippecanoe’s deck swung outboard.  At close range, there was no way they would miss.  Hart reluctantly authorized the gunners to fire. A few dozen rounds hitting the waterline made a noticeable difference and within two minutes, Stout was already listing at forty five degrees.  The ship kept taking on water, rolling beneath the waves before the rest of the group was over the horizon. From an attrition standpoint – taking out two enemy destroyers, two patrol boats, a frigate, and three bombers versus one friendly destroyer – the battle had been a great success for the Americans.  However, they had caught the enemy mostly unprepared and with aging equipment. The United States couldn’t depend on all battles going this well. The surprise attacks that had begun the war had taken a lot of quality allied equipment out of action. Despite the success in numbers, losing friends was never easy.  The carrier group slipped back into the radio silence of EMCON as they kept going.  Nobody wanted to talk anyway.