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// Oh my! (by which I mean Raptors) 
// Story: Dogfight! 
// by totallynotabrony 
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	The festivities lasted long into the night. Dash did end up buying for the whole Navy crowd. As the senior ranking officer, it was her unofficial responsibility. And she made the most salary.
It had seemed only right to invite both the Equestrians and the Israelis to the party. Both groups had been good sports. While it was never a sound idea to party to excess, Dash wouldn’t be flying again for more than a day.
That did give her a lot of time to think about strategy. Dash knew she and the rest of the Ninjas had gotten lucky against the EAF jets and there was room to learn a lot. While the exact mission for the upcoming exercise had not yet been announced, she knew that her squadron was assigned to red force air-to-air again.
The last day of Red Flag came, and the Navy pilots were once again in the briefing room. Dash immediately knew something big was happening. Ensign Tidd looked defeated and the battle hadn’t even begun yet.
The first slide of the Powerpoint displayed a United States Air Force F-22 Raptor. It was the most capable, most expensive fighter jet ever built and the USAF was the only service in the world that operated them.
“These are what the blue force is flying,” murmured Tidd. “The Raptor comes standard with stealth capability, thrust vectoring for super maneuverability, and the best radar ever installed in a fighter. During training exercises like Red Flag, it has an eighty-to-one kill ratio.”
“What’s the scenario?” Dash asked. There was simply no way the Hornets could compete in a straight up fight with the fearsome Raptors.
“It’s a head-on engagement; no active radar until after the merge. That will take away the Raptor’s advantage of stealth and detection ability.”
If the point was to get the two forces into close proximity, that still wouldn’t help the Navy pilots much. The F-22, with its pivoting engine nozzles to vector thrust, was easily the most maneuverable fighter in the world. The Hornets might have an advantage in roll rate, but that was all Dash could think of.
After discussing a little more strategy, Tidd ended the brief. Dash wished he’d cheer up, but truthfully this looked like a battle that couldn’t be won. Maybe that was the way it had been designed. Some small part at the back of Dash’s mind wondered if somebody at Red Flag command had decided to put the Air Force’s best plane against the Navy’s best pilot just to see what would happen.
As much as it was in Dash’s nature to boast about her abilities, she arguably was the most competent jet pilot in the service. A large part of that ability was a superb understanding of the aerial environment and associated strategy. She was still thinking hard about a game plan as the Ninjas walked to their planes.
It looked like the only chance they had was to strike fast and hard. At the close ranges the no-radar rule would produce, whoever shot first would probably have the advantage. The Hornets were smaller which would that make them harder to spot. They also didn’t have a small delay to wait for the missile bay doors to open before launch, unlike the Raptors which carried their weapons internally. Maybe that would give the Navy jets just enough advantage to pull off a win.
Someone was at least trying to make things interesting. The Hornets only carried a pair of Sidewinders and a pair of Slammers each. The lighter weight and lower drag would help performance.
Dash went through the takeoff procedures mechanically, her long practice hitting every point in the checklist until all four Hornets were wheels-up and heading towards their adversary.
In an attempt to minimize the number of planes that could be engaged at once, Dash ordered the formation to break into a loose wedge shape. Minutes passed as the distance closed. Staring hard at the windscreen, her heart skipped a beat as she picked a small point out of the blue sky. Was that a target or a flyspeck on the windscreen? Were her eyes playing tricks on her?
Putting faith in her instincts, Dash had already started to fire a simulated Sidewinder as the tone to indicate a valid heat-seeker target sounded. Moments later, she was rewarded with the voice of the combat controller over the radio indicating one Raptor down. Unfortunately—“Ninja Two, Ninja Three; you are also destroyed.”
Dash winced. She may have gotten the first shot, but enemy virtual missiles must have gone past her to take out two planes in her formation anyway. No time to dwell on it. “Ninja Four, follow me!”
The first shot had been fired and now radar could be used. Dash lit up her electronics at the same time that three enemy radars showed up on her warning receiver. The other F-22’s had hung back, purposely putting one of their number—the now destroyed plane—ahead to scout.
The distance was closing rapidly, and Dash would bet more Sidewinders were probably being fired. She yanked her jet hard into a maximum performance turn. It bled off a lot of speed, but evading a shot was more important. Dash struggled for a moment under seven g’s of force before rolling out of the turn and going back on the offensive.
Maintaining sight of the nearest Raptor, Dash was unhappy to see that it had managed to turn inside her and was taking up position to shoot. The other Air Force planes were keeping their distance. If Dash somehow managed to defeat her opponent they would have easy Slammer shots. The radio reported Ninja Four had been shot down.
Great. Dash gritted her teeth. Alone now and with three enemy aircraft on her, the situation was essentially unwinnable. Still, she wasn’t going down without a fight.
Step one was getting into position for a shot against the Raptor that was trying to do the same thing to her. She couldn’t outturn it or outclimb it. The sleek F-22 had much better aerodynamics and a lot more thrust. Well, time for a new tactic. There were few airplanes that could lose as much speed as a Hornet.
Dash hit the controls for the airbrake. The hinged flap between her jet’s twin engines popped up. At the same time, she hauled back on the stick to throw the Hornet’s nose skyward. The flat wings caught the air faster than the jet could climb, skidding the aircraft forward as it pitched up.
The Hornet was one of the best aircraft in the world to fly with the nose above horizontal. NASA had used the design for a research vehicle to test the maneuver. The Blue Angels routinely showed off by performing slow passes with the nose thirty degrees above level flight. Dash’s jet had passed fifty degrees and was still rotating. Fighting with the controls to keep the plane going straight, she glanced sideways at the trailing Raptor.
The pilot had copied her move, standing the aircraft on its tail. With large amounts of vectored thrust, the Raptor could do that all day. All the Air Force pilot had to do was wait for Dash to lose airspeed and stall. She would have to accelerate again and the Raptor would fall in behind for an easy missile shot.
Sparing a glance, Dash could see the other pilot looking at her, waiting. She concentrated on her instruments, watching the airspeed falling. At some point, the Hornet simply wouldn’t fly anymore.
What Dash had in mind would put the aircraft on the edge of control and she would only get one chance. Taking a breath to steady herself, she switched the weapons to guns and kicked the rudder over.
The Hornet slid sideways, stalling and beginning to drop through the sky. Dash pulled the trigger as her nose swept past the Raptor, firing two hundred virtual bullets into the other jet. The combat controller’s voice sounded surprised, but dutifully reported the kill.
Grinning behind her oxygen mask, Dash held the nose down to regain lost airspeed. Now where did the rest of those jets go…?
Moments later, one of the other Raptors killed her with a Slammer fired from forty miles’ distance. While Dash didn’t like losing, it was comforting to know that they considered her dangerous enough to stay that far away.
Sighing, Dash took up course for the runway. After landing she joined up with her squadron, congratulating them on doing their best. Showing off was fine, but dignity and honor were more important.
There would probably be more festivities to celebrate the end of Red Flag, and Dash foresaw another hit on her credit card. Despite not winning the final battle, she had still done well and maybe learned some things along the way. She had certainly taught the Air Force a few lessons; the whole point of the exercise.
Dash headed towards debriefing, passing by some Spanish pilots and trading salutes. In a lot of exercises with multiple countries no one was really sure what everyone else’s ranks looked like, so to be on the safe side proper courtesy was rendered.
The mission had been simple and debriefing was short. Dash knew her gutsy stall maneuver would earn praise and modestly accepted it when it came. After some final notes, the briefing broke up.
Lightning Dust was waiting. She grinned at Dash. “We’ve both got time. Want to do some catching up?”
Dash nodded. “Sure. Maybe you can talk about your little cloaking device.”
“The unclassified parts,” Dust chuckled. “I know you’re no Falcon pilot, but there’s got to be something you learned about flying that I can use.”
“Aren’t you already the best of the EAF?” questioned Dash as the two of them started to walk.
Dust shrugged. “Well yeah, but there’s room to be even better, right?”
Dash smiled and nodded. Driving ever harder, pushing always further. Fighter pilots might know the creed better than others, but self improvement was for everyone. Now that the mission was over, Dash could relax for a while, but soon enough she would be back to work, putting newfound knowledge to use. Nothing made her happier.