A Month Has Passed
Edge of TMS Rooseblood airspace
Flare’s F/A-29
1330
Flare was starting to get inordinately ticked off at Captains Stormcruiser and Spark Bloom. While they were an obviously proficient and competent duo and quite talented instructors, they’d been hovering around their charges like they were nailed to them today. Albeit it was their final test, a real trap to move the squadron aboard the Roosenblood so the fleet could head out for the shoals. This was literally a life-or-death final exam, but still it was annoying.
Flare snorted indignantly. Clanky had overseen the mechanical upgrades to allow the F/A-29s to land aboard the carriers and they’d performed just fine with the land based traps they’d done the past couple weeks. Being treated like a moist behind the ears cadet was really starting to wear on him. They were combat veterans and some of the best fliers in the Equestrian military, who were these Marines to run them around like that? Major Cloud Dancer seemed to handle it all with a kind of detached mechanical precision that made Flare wonder if she knew something he didn’t.
A quick scan of the skies found the specific silver glint he was looking for, the F/A-48D “Super” Seaeagle VTOL fighter was floating high and to the right of the main formation, obviously keeping an eye on their charges. That sealed it for Flare, time to put these ponies back in their place and remind them who the real ace pilots around here were. A quick flip of his comms systems got him a line to the E-12F “Looking Glass” AWACS plane currently running the airspace for the carrier group as they prepared to steam out to blue water.
“Selene Twelve to High Guard, request challenge status for this training mission.”
Challenge was an extremely old tradition for pony aviation. All the way back before the unification of the three breeds and the appearance of the alicorn sisters to lead them. Back when flying was something that was all bone, feather and muscle a pegasi would declare challenge to prove who the superior flier was, usually by engaging in mock combat. For more serious challenges, an offense of honor or something equally dire. The challenges would go “to the fall.” Meaning that the pegasi fighting would continue to battle till one of them fell out of the sky. The victor could then display mercy and rescue the falling pony, or let them fall to their deaths.
At least that’s how the stories went, a challenge hadn’t been fought to the fall in many thousands of years, and only old writings left any record of the process at all. Things were a lot more civil now using computers and radar systems to simulate a flying hoof fight but challenge remained. Tradition, after all, was tradition.
“Selene Twelve, challenge status is green... if slightly irregular, request clearance from your squadron commander.”
“Copy, High Guard, Selene Twelve to Selene Six”
Cloud Dancer of course had been exercising a CO’s prerogative and been listening in on all channels from her flight so she knew exactly what Flare was up to and rolled her eyes a little. This just had to be one of those pride things that seemed to be the primary domain of stallions every where, no matter what race or species they belonged to.
“Six here, go ahead Twelve.”
“Request permission to issue challenge to non-squadron member.”
“Very well Twelve, I’ll assume you’re challenging Knight Seven?”
“Affirmative Six.”
Cloud Dancer’s commboard lit up showing a private channel between Selene Eleven, Second Lieutenant Zephyr, and Flare, probably trying to talk some sense into her wingcolt. Cloud Dancer knew better, his blood was up for whatever reason and he had to prove he was the best flier around. Cloud Dancer knew better of course, Flare was good but the King and Queen of hearts were better, which Flare would have known if he’d been paying attention during the first day of briefings. Oh well if he wanted to go up against a flight team with a three time ace to their credit and a near undefeated record as a student flight team and instructor flight team at the “Top Gun” Naval Fighter Weapons School it was his own funeral.
“King this is Selene Six, I assume you and Queen heard that?”
“Affirmative Selene Six, High Guard going to play referee?”
High Guard broke into the public conversation, bets were already being placed amongst the AWACS’ flight crew, they’d been working with the King and Queen for a couple floats now and they figured the upstart zoomie didn’t have a chance, so instead of victory they were betting on how long the challenge would last.
“This is High Guard, we’ll be calling the shots, challenge has been issued and accepted, combatants will move to 23,000ft and shall have a hard deck of 12,000 feet. Any pilot who violates the hard deck forfeits the challenge.”
Flare acknowledged this and broke out of the formation, heading high and to the right on the quick turn onto his wing. He pulled into a wide circle, doing his best to minimize his profile and hide in the sun’s light. It wouldn’t be enough to win the fight but it might give him a little edge right at the start.
“Pilots, the challenge has been issued and accepted. Be advised that per Marine Corps Order 9.28c and Naval Bulletin 11.9d that any attempt to continue hostilities after the challenge has been ended by the refereeing authority in the air or on the ground will be considered a court martial offense. Training weapons are hot, you are clear to engage.”
Flare’s radar lock warning started to scream immediately, He banked quickly and popped a chaff canister breaking the lock. Flare went through a dizzying series of maneuvers to try to find his opponents while keeping them from engaging him. A flash of sunlight on glass to his 4 o’clock revealed the aircraft he was searching for and he bore down on it with a sharp increase of his throttle.
“Fox two!”
The simulated heat seeker existed only in cyberspace but on radar screens across the formation is raced towards the Seaeagle fighter and just vanished off of everypony’s radar scopes a scant hundred yards from the radar blip representing King and Queen.
“Selene Twelve to High Guard, what the hell just happened? That missile was running clean and hot!”
“Your missile was interdicted by Knight Seven’s magical defense systems Selene Twelve, or did you forget you’re up against a pegasi-unicorn flight team?”
“I thought challenge was pilot to pilot only!”
“You challenged the team, Selene Twelve, that’s how the Navy and Marine Corps does business with it’s challenges, fight one, fight both, especially when you’re up against the only married flight team in the Equestrian military. I’d suggest you get your head out of the clouds and back in the fight however, or this challenge is going to be short.”
Laughter filled the crew compartment of High Guard at the indignant noise that made up Flare’s response to this advice as he pulled up hard and climbed rapidly trying to put some maneuvering distance out into the sky so he could try to reengage the King and Queen of Hearts.
Knight 7 - Stormcruiser and Spark Bloom’s Fighter
The King and Queen of Hearts were actually having to do some pretty serious flying, though the majority of work was going on in the back seat as Spark Bloom orchestrated the electronic and magic defense of their Seaeagle. She played the various countermeasures and her own projected arcane defenses like she was conducting a symphony weaving it all together and combining it with the radar picture to feed guidance to her husband who was flying and fighting the fighter like an extension of his own body.
“Break left and down, he’s going to try to get above and behind us.”
“Give him the exhaust ports in the dive, force him to follow us, then airbreak, roll and reengage?”
“Do it, let’s show him how the Corps does business.”
Selene 12 - Flare
Flare never saw the maneuver coming, he followed them through the intense evasion pattern they had put into evade them arcing into the screaming dive down towards the hard deck until King cut his airbrakes in with a little magical aid and turned into a tight arching roll up and over Flare, settling in behind him like he’d been there the whole time. A radar lock screamed in Flare’s ear and suddenly cut out.
“This is High Guard to all combatants, confirmed victory to Knight Seven by missile shot that would have resulted in catastrophic destruction of Selene Twelve. All combatants stand down weapons radars and ECM. Command would like to take this moment to remind you that any further continuation of hostilities after this time are a court martial offense, leave it in the sky.”
Flare acknowledge blandly and coasted on an easy arc to plug himself back into formation. He’d lost. Not only had he lost he’d had his flank kicked hard. His comm board lit up with a private line from Major Cloud Dancer.
“Let that be a lesson to you about the dangers of pride and virtues of humility Lieutenant. You’re a hell of a pilot Flare, if you make a career out of this you’re only going to get even better till old age finally takes your edge off like Colonel Windsheer, any stupid crap left in your head about the Captains is gone now! We clear?”
Flare gulped, it wasn’t often these days that Cloud Dancer got quite this pissed off.
“Yes ma’am, understood.”
“Good, now pull your head out of your plot and focus, if you kill yourself during this trap I swear by the Lunar Light I will personally come to hell, bring your sorry ass back to life then kill you again myself.”
The channel clicked off without further comment leaving Flare to lick his wounds and as the Major had said, focused on not getting himself killed when he attempted his first real carrier landing.
TMS RoosenbloodLanding Pattern
Selene 12 - Flare
“Selene Twelve to Stick, requesting clearance to land.”
“Roger Selene Twelve you’ve entered the landing corridor and are cleared to land, turning you over to the Landing Signals Officer.”
“LSO to Selene Twelve, coming in a little hot, drop your airspeed and come left a hair, do you have the ball?”
Flare complied and scanned the fantail of the carrier quickly locking on to the light board referred to as “the meatball” the orb of red light representing where his aircraft was in relation to the deck and the proper flight path. Flare had been shaking ever since the squadron entered the landing pattern, practice was all well and good but this was the real thing.
’Luna’s mane I have to land on that tiny thing?
He shook himself and refocused, there was always time to be terrified after it was over. Like the Major always said.
“I have the meat ball, dropping airspeed to one hundred and thirty knots.”
“Coming in clean Twelve, remember you’re aiming for the third cable, let’s start your naval aviation career with a text book trap alright?”
Flare let out a tense breath laugh.
“Copy that, let’s do it.”
“Ten seconds to deck... nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one...”
Anything else that the LSO said was drowned out by an almighty THUMP as the plane slammed home onto the flight deck followed by Flare slamming forward into his harness as the tail hook caught the arresting cable and an aircraft traveling at 150 mph was suddenly going 0 mph.
Flare caught his breath still shaking like mad as he looked for the ground guide who began to direct him over to a slot near the elevator. Flare went through his power down cycle and opened the belly hatch, desperate to get some air. He couldn’t have been happier to get his first lungful of fresh air as he stepped out on to the Roosenblood’s steel flight deck. The blaring deck loud speaker was announcing...
“Now hear this, now hear this, all hands secure from recovery operations and prepare for CAP launch off catapults one and two, alert five fighters prepare for stand down, on coming alert five stand to your planes, that is all.”
Flare shook the last of the shakes from the harrowing landing off and looked around. A couple ponies including Zephyr and Clanky were obviously waiting for him but the first pony to make it to him was Stormcruiser. The king punched him in the shoulder playfully.
“Nice trap Lieutenant, no hard feelings from before?”
“No sir, I let my pride get the better of me and I took my lumps for it.”
“That’s the right attitude to have, it’ll increase your longevity in this business.”
The stallion turned to go rejoin his wife and supervise the moving of his fighter from the VTOL landing pads to the elevator for transport to the hangar deck. He turned quickly though as if remembering something.
“Oh by the way Flare, welcome to the club!”
“Club?”
“The tailhook club of course! You’re a whole new level of pilot now!”
Flare shook his head and went to rejoin his squadron as the crew chiefs began to secure the aircraft for their own moves down to the hangar deck.