//------------------------------//
// Applying Deterrence 
// Story: Nearing the Edge 
// by Eagle 
//------------------------------//

August 20th, 2005
0940 Hours
Academy

	“‘Additional negotiations are currently being carried out to ensure the deployment of further forces in the country of Equestria. The most immediate of these is the creation of the first full-fledged air base on Equestrian soil, which is already taking place. Finding and agreeing on the exact forces to be used and measures to be carried out will take more time. However, both have agreed to the establishment of an Equestrian-issued no-fly zone for Bloc aircraft over the country, backed up from the United States, with the warning line being established at the border. This does not mean the United States is at war with these nations, but the enforcement of this policy must be carried out.

“‘As such, the United States Air Force’s First Tactical Fighter Squadron, currently deployed in Equestria, is now to be reoriented as a volunteer squadron under Equestrian command. All pilots will now voluntarily choose to fly the local missions provided by the Equestrian commanders. Supplies, pay, and other necessities are still provided by the Air Force, to those who wish to accept, and as such the squadron will still fall under Air Force jurisdiction. The only direct order you have from us during this mission is to defend yourselves accordingly. This change is to be enacted immediately upon receiving of this notification. We at home are wishing you the best of luck.

“‘-Respectfully,

Lt. Gen. Solomon Leevi, USAF.’”

Going over the paper received, Cole was not entirely surprised by the outcome, but he was not expecting the way they would go about it. The Eagles were now under the command of the Equestrians, as well as the usual brass back in the States. Their jobs to fly and fight had now become voluntary to the men, though this was more an illusion. The Air Force still only paid and provided if they accepted, and out here there was not much else that the men could rely on. Regardless, he doubted any of them would reject it.

“So you’re under me now?” Spitfire asked, trying to sum up the letter.

“Yes ma’am,” Cole verified. “You wouldn’t happen to have any orders for us?”

“Just let your pilots know, Captain,” she replied in a slightly tired tone. “I need to think on this a little more.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied as she turned and trotted down another hall, leaving him with his XO in the lobby.

“So we’re under them now, and still under USAF command,” Runner asked rhetorically. “This is going to cause some major problems with orders.”

“I know, Lieutenant. For now let’s just get the men together so we can make the official issue.”

“Yes sir, I’ll get to it,” Walker responded.

Cole stood from the couch and followed his subordinate into exiting the lobby, heading outside to where most of the squadron was scattered about. Though it had only been a day, the time spent on the base had been rather comforting. Of course there had been some problems with taking care of the aircraft, setting up support areas, getting good food for everyone, and some others, but none of it was too serious.

Most of the squadron slept in empty bunks scattered around the base; it proved to be disorganized, but it was still nice to have a bed to sleep in. However, Cole’s own experience was a rather disturbing one, which was the cause of some bad dreams. Even if it was just the first night, it happened to be the particular bed he was issued.

Of all the rooms, he had been assigned to Dash’s, and he could not tell why. Perhaps she had found out and asked so she could spend more time with him. Maybe Spitfire thought he had a positive impact. The official reason was that, despite being of opposite sexes, Cole was the last to be issued his room, and Rainbow’s was the only one that had space left. That could also be the reason, but none of that was the actual problem.

The problem came in that, after Twilight explained that all of her roommates had been killed in battle, it felt bad to sleep in their beds. Though of course it was not like he was sleeping on their graves, but it gave off a bad vibe. The fact that Rainbow wasn’t actually there the first night, likely kept away due to her duties, left the room in an eerie quiet that haunted him into his dreams.

“Hey, what’s your problem!?”

As if on cue, he heard Dash’s voice ring out nearby. He turned towards it to see the irritated pegasus glaring at First Lieutenant Desser, the Alpha Flight commander, who was returning his own annoyed look. Three other pilots were just behind them, watching the exchange from the shade of a parked Eagle with some grins on their face. Two of them were also flight leads, First Lieutenants Maurice and Elijah of Bravo and Charlie, respectively.

The third pilot, leaning against plane itself, was the one that stood out, being of the lowest rank; Second Lieutenant William Sylvester from Charlie, whose love of the Old West got him the nickname ‘Cowboy’, to his delight. He was a skilled flyer, which made Cole unhappy that he was stuck at the lowest position an officer, and a pilot, could have. He never did get used to how everyone in the squadron was stuck several ranks below what their positions warranted; he always assumed it was the brass’s personalized revenge against the Tactical Corps.

“I just wanted to look at the jet,” Rainbow continued. “What’s the big deal? Aren’t we supposed to be friends now?”

“Yea, that doesn’t mean you get to screw around in our fighters and break stuff,” Desser responded. “Especially not my bird. Never my bird.”

“I’m not going to screw around! I just want to look! Maybe…sit in it a little.”

“Not a chance.”

“You’re not scared of a pony, are you? I thought you guys were tough guys, not worry-warts.”

“Hoho! A regular badass, that one,” Elijah chuckled from behind them, trying hard to show how amusing he found the debate. “You need to be more careful, Firebird, you could be facing down their version of Will Smith! You can’t fly with a broken jaw, you know!”

“Who?” Rainbow asked, being ignored by the men.

“I’d rather take a hit to the jaw than let someone break my plane,” Desser responded.

“Guess we’d better find a new flight commander then; maybe give that Orion kid the promotion he deserves.”

Cole was going to say something as he approached to gain their attention, but Sylvester noticed him approaching first and warned the others. All four snapped into their usual salute with the greeting of ‘Good Morning’ as required. As custom, Cole returned both, allowing them to relax.

“Lieutenant, why are you messing with our new friend?” Cole asked Desser in a facetious manner, which he did not seem to pick up.

“I’m not trying to, sir. She wanted to look into the plane, and I didn’t want to risk damage. Especially not at such an important time.”

“I’m not going to break anything,” Rainbow reiterated.

“I’m sure you won’t Dash,” Cole replied warmly, trying to sooth things. “Tell you what, when the time allows it, I’ll let you take a look at my jet instead. Sound cool?”

“Sounds awesome,” she agreed contently. “Thanks Cole, and…sorry for coming off a little rude, Lieutenant. I guess I just got excited.”

“Hey, it’s no big problem,” Desser replied before talking to the Captain again. “Did you need us to do something, sir?”

“Yea, some new orders came in, and something’s come up. I need ya’ll to gather your flights, head inside to the nearest meeting room. Where’s First Lieutenant Wilkes?”

“Not sure; last I saw he was helping some of the guys from his flight with their plane.”

“Alright, I’ll go find him. Get to finding your men.”

“Yes sir.”

Each of them headed off in different directions, save for Cowboy, who followed his flight commander. Rainbow was soon the only one left in the once lively area. They left her to her own thoughts, who was annoyed that she forgot to ask who that Will Smith character was.

Cole looked for Delta’s commander for a few minutes before one of the mechanics told him that the XO had already found him. Assuming all the men were headed to the meeting room in the main building, which left him to follow. Heading back inside, he did not find anyone else there, but could hear plenty of muffled voices from down the main hall, near the first door, which was left ajar. 

It truly was a meeting room, having a large, oval-shaped wooden table occupying the center of the room, and taking up the most space. Some of the men, including all the flight commanders and the XO, were seated there. Many of the other pilots were spread out in chairs along the room in long lines. As soon as their Captain entered, Walker announced it with the call to attention, with each man shooting to attention from their seats.

“At ease,” Cole ordered, letting the men return to their previous states.

He had been thinking of the best way to brief the squadron ever since he got the order, and hoped what he came up with would suffice.

“I’m going to get right into it, seeing as how we’re on a higher plane of alert now,” he stated, resisting the urge to be dramatic. “As of now, this unit has been repurposed as a volunteer unit that has been partially transferred to Equestrian command, which takes precedent as of now. Equestria has decided to issue a combined no-fly zone over the nation, with the States backing them up. Since the US isn’t at war, and the Equestrians need a modern fighter squadron to carry this out, this is why we’ve been transferred. Of course, this means that the probability of us flying into combat against Bloc forces is high, almost certain.”

Cole did not see much surprise in their faces; maybe they were expecting to fight when they were ordered to rebase here.

“As the name implies, it is a volunteer group, meaning that you aren’t required to fly. I hate to say this option is hollow, as the Air Force will only pay and support you while here if you agree to it. All the same, if you do not, just know I will try to help you personally as best I can. But I do not expect that to happen just because the option is open.

“I know that having to fight is scary; people can die, I will not be lying about that. This will not be easy. But I know that with everything we have working for us, we can come up on top. If we can stay as skilled and united as a team, we can see each-other through it. I hope that you stay in spite of any fear not just because of this, but because there is something to prove, too. There is something to prove to our enemies, the ponies here, and even the folks back home, and I think there’s a desire to do that.

"In a way, I know that down there we want to get into it. We have all been hard at work since this began, staying at the front of it, on guard. We all thought this was coming, what was happening on this continent; we were held back from it. We have been held back by the rules, by the outside views of our unit, and by our own concerns. Now I’m looking forward to it, and I think ya’ll are, too.

“Me, I’m not worried about turning this squadron into what it should have been, because I know it can be. I am still concerned; I’m scared that if I survive, I will lose a wingman, if the mission is failed and the innocent and our allies suffer from it. I’m scared deep down if I’m good enough to do it, if I will die, if I’ll be remembered as a failure, but I’m going all the same, because I know there’s a chance.

“Despite being imprisoned here, I made quite a few friends, one of which taught me something important. She told me that to be special you don’t have to have something that says you are special; you just need to do something that makes you special. For other’s defense, for honor, and for what is right, I intend on going up there and doing something worthwhile and I’m hoping all of you will be there with me.

“If anyone wishes to leave, you can do so now.”

None of the pilots moved an inch in their seats.

“Men, from the Lafayettes, to the Flying Tigers, to the volunteer squadrons in the Royal Air Force, American Airmen have always been some of the first in the fight. Now we have the distinction in following in that tradition. I want everyone and everything in top shape and on constant alert, seeing as how we will need to launch at a moment’s notice. Until further orders are received, that’s all I have.”

Walker called the room to attention once more, ending with the call ‘dismissed’. Exiting the room, he did not know what to do next. All of the men knew what the situation was, and he had nothing more to do until he was given something.

There was not a whole lot to do in personal time either; he did not have his books, no computer, and nothing to watch. Most of his exercise was usually accomplished earlier in the morning, before breakfast. The most he could think of right now was chatting with the other members of the squadron, and being his recluse self he was usually the quietest in the conversation.

All the same, it was the best he could do at the time. He spent some time talking with some of the pilots from Alpha and Charlie flights. As expected, he did not speak much, and not at all when the subject moved to something he was unfamiliar with. But, when it was something he knew about, he would pipe up. Time seemed to fly faster whether he was talking or not, and it shifted from late morning to early afternoon during this time. To his surprise, and relief, there were no questions sent his way.

When he had exhausted most of his speech abilities he excused himself from the group, deciding to simply sit in an open, grassy area near the main building, under its shade, and relax, giving himself some time to think. The problem with this activity was that there was that, contrary to his usual running state-of-mind, there was nothing to think about, something he did not realize until he sat down. All he could find himself doing was resting, looking around, and up at the sky.

It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining but not being too hot. Part of this was from the clouds, a large number of them, but broken up and scattered amongst the vast blue plain. The slight breeze that came through every few minutes completed the feeling of an excellent day. Though taking in the scenery could only last so long, Cole still enjoyed doing it; he always did enjoy visiting new places.

“Captain! Captain Cole, get up!”

The voice breaking his peaceful trance came almost simultaneously with the distinct echo of a siren pitching up and holding its place before falling and repeating.

“What?” he asked, getting up and looking back to see Spitfire stop a few feet from him.

“What do you mean ‘what’!? You know what that sound means, right?”

“An air raid? Christ, I didn’t think one would come this soon!”

“You can thank Sombra for that. The Equestrian government just declared the no-fly zone an hour or so ago, and your government came out in support of it. Now Sombra’s saying he’s going to break it to prove there’s no real power to enforce it,” she explained, walking along hurriedly as the human followed. “He said he’s going to bomb this place to the ground. I guess he found out about us capturing you a few days back, because he said he doesn’t care about your fate, either. Somehow I doubt that.”

“Alright, my squadron is scrambling right? Nothing’s in the way? Everything in order?”

“They are; every one of you is going. The guards at the border sent a message that they saw a bunch of planes taking off in the occupied Crystal Empire. Bombers mostly.”

“No fighters?”

“None that they could see, but they did see a few Shadow pegasi flying around up high.”

“I’d assume they are sending escorts,” Cole commented, now approaching the parked cluster of jets. “There’s no way they’d send unescorted bombers in.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

A roar came from the runway as the first aircraft, the AWACS, lifted off from the runway, barely with enough speed.

“How big is the raid force?”

“Big, but I don’t know exactly how big,” Spitfire replied. “Isn’t that plane that just launched supposed to tell you that?”

“Among other things.”

“Well I’ll trust it, then,” she responded uncertainly, “and I’ll trust the rest of this to you guys. I hope all the talk and fuss about you Americans and your jets turns out to be true.”

“Nothing else to add?”

“Not right now, just get in the sky; some of your support people set up a radio down here, so I’ll be in touch,” she stated, heading off in a different direction now. “Good luck Captain!”

Before he flew he had to get the proper clothing and equipment, as same as always. An emergency was no excuse to skip steps; if anything it was more reason to ensure everything was in place. All the same time was still limited, and the process was still rushed. Thankfully the training ensured the pressure did not interfere, and he got every piece he needed, along with the other pilots. Several minutes had passed during this, and, not knowing just how much time was left, he started jogging towards his bird.

Cole moved through the lines of planes, each one being worked on and readied. Mechanics and ground crew scrambled with each individual plane’s need; some with gas lines, some with missiles, and whatever each needed to fly and fight. Pilots climbed up stepladders into their aircraft, helping to get settled with the support team’s help. The noise of so many jet engines going was enough to drown out the once prevailing air raid siren.

According to Runner, Cole’s new jet was to the back and end of the rows, which annoyed him, as he wanted to get in the air as soon as possible. Thunder continued to echo from the tarmac as fighters shot into the sky, one by one. Upon reaching his Eagle, Cole found it was ready to launch, with the ground crews waiting to help him in.

“I got some bad news, sir!” the chief yelled over the noise as Cole plumped into his seat. “Our stock of AIM-120s is low; we only had enough to fit a couple to each bird!”

“How come I didn’t hear about this till now!?”

“It’s only the second day here! We didn’t find out until a short time earlier!” the crewman responded. “Sidewinders are full for everyone, though!”

“Alright, thanks!” Cole strained his voice out, letting him pull away as the hatch closed.

As predicted, Cole was one of the last planes in line to take off. The rest of the squadron was already circling the base high above in a holding pattern, waiting for the last of their comrades to join them in formation. It was not known exactly how close the bomber formation was to the base, and Cole would continue to fret until he was in the sky to meet them. He could not stomach the idea of being hit while on the ground.

The F-15 was taxied into the takeoff position on the runway. The fighter before his had barely completed liftoff before Cole was given clearance to launch himself. Once again, the plane’s engines flared and propelled it forward, pushing it down the runway and eventually providing it with the velocity needed to fly.

The body of the plane cut through the wind as it gained altitude, forming up with the rest of the squadron in its holding pattern. Most of the flights were already in their formation, their craft hovering next to each-other’s wings in the five ship formations. The AWACS was circling high above them, the powerful radar dish on top tracking the approaching enemy formation.

“This is Casino, all aircraft are airborne. Enter formation and adjust heading to three-zero-zero to intercept,” the Air Battle Manager, whose job was to keep an overlook on the fight, ordered from the AWACS. “Large formation has crossed the warning line at the border and entered Equestrian airspace, over.”

“Eagle lead copies, Casino,” Cole replied, turning his attention to the squadron. “This is Eagle One, all flights report status.”

“Alpha copies; ready, over.”

“Bravo ready, over.”

“Charlie is ready to engage, over.”

“Delta ready, over.”

“All flights accounted for,” Cole finished. “Eagle Two, report status.”

“Two is forming up on your wing now,” Walker answered as his plane edged into position back and to the left of his Captain. “Sorry sir, ready to engage, over.”

“Captain, do you read?” another voice on the radio came in. “This is Colonel Spitfire, back at base. Have all of your planes taken off?”

“Affirmative, Colonel, we’re moving to engage now,” he replied, remembering to ask an important question. “Are we cleared to engage upon reaching the formation, over?”

“I’m…not sure.”

“What!? How can you be not sure about something that simple!?” Cole’s mind screamed.

“Can you repeat ma’am, over?”

“I’m not sure. I was given orders by my superiors to inform the government before I sent you out so permission would be granted to do so. I sent the report in as soon as I could, but I haven’t gotten a response…o-over.”

“We need orders, ma’am,” Cole demanded. “We need to know now if we are cleared, over.”

“Alright, alright! You can engage them, over!”

“Understood, Colonel; anything else?”

“Good luck, Captain. We’re all counting on you here.”

“Understood. Eagle One, out.”

The Captain now returned his speech to the AWACS to inform him.

“Casino, Eagle One; we have been granted permission to engage the oncoming formation,” Cole informed them. “Can you give us a reading on its size and contents, over?”

“We are reading approximately fifty bandits.”

A few swears were heard from the pilots, upset at the unbalanced odds, before the radar operator continued.

“We’re making out at least twenty of them to be bombers, along with thirty smaller contacts, over.”

“Fighters?” Runner asked without thinking first.

“Negative, they’re too small to be jets,” Casino replied. “Our best assumption is that they are pegasi.”

This was a striking, and decisive, development, one that made no real sense. Why would pegasi be escorting the bombers instead of fighters? They would get slaughtered, and the Shadows knew that; it simply did not add up. The only thing he could connect it to was some kind of mistake or ignorance. As they had done it so quickly, perhaps they did not know the American jets were moved to the Academy.

That had to be it; it was the only explanation that made any real sense. The Shadows had somehow missed the transfer of a whole squadron of fighters to the Academy and, since they seemed to have launched the raid immediately upon hearing of the no-fly zone, they had no time to realize it. The Shadows had truly no clue what was coming, and the price would be paid for it.

“Alright, you all heard him,” Cole spoke up. “Those are pegasi, not fighters. I shouldn’t have to tell you the Sidewinders won’t track them, so use your radar missiles for them and heaters for the bombers.”

“Enemy formation is five mikes away at angels thirty,” Casino reported. “Eagle One, you have disposition over your squadron, over.”

“Copy Casino, over,” he acknowledged. “Move in and tear them up with maximum aggression. Alpha flight, come in, over.”

“Alpha here,” Desser replied.

“Fire, you take your flight high up and over the formation and set up a patrol between them and the border. Engage any enemy reinforcements scrambled to assist them, and any stragglers trying to escape, how copy?”

“Copy, lead; moving now,” the Lieutenant answered, leading his five planes higher into the sky and pushing ahead.

“Bravo and Charlie flights, you are delegated to dealing with those escorts, understood?”

“Bravo copies, over.”

“Charlie copies, over.”

“Delta is to engage the bombers,” Cole finished. “Eagles One and Two will assist.”

“Delta copies, over.”

“Enemy formation bearing zero-one-zero, on the nose,” Casino reported.

“Eagles engage,” Cole ordered.

All of the responses came, but Cole focused on the mass of dots that was beginning to fill his view. The large number of bombers, flying together as a squadron, and the small pegasi flying alongside them were in perfect formation. If the Shadows had noticed they were outmatched, they did not stop. He focused on the bomber closest to the front, and prepared to attack head on to break up the group. All of the other fighters were now up to their own tasks, and only his wingman was with him.

“We’re going right through, Runner; stick with me!”

“Got it!”

The speed of the jet increased as the targeter for the missiles came up, searching for its first victim. Selecting the Sidewinder, the targeter focused in on the designated bomber, one of the massive TU-95s of Russian design. It had little trouble locking on to such a huge target, with the clear ringing signifying a hard lock.

“Eagle One, Fox Two!”

The Sidewinder dropped from the wing of the fighter before its rocket ignited, propelling it through the sky. The small tracker within locked onto the heat given off by the massive aircraft. At its speed, the missile quickly shot ahead of the Eagle, leaving a small trail of smoke and exhaust behind, drawing a thin line from the attacker to the victim.

The weapon worked exactly as it was built to, and the crew aboard the Shadow bomber, only mildly aware that something was wrong, had only enough time to be surprised. The missile sliced into the Bear’s right wing, near the first of the huge turboprop engines, before the warhead exploded. The flames reached the engine, then the fuel supplying it, and then into the fuel line itself, and doomed the bomber in a little over a second. The entire right wing caught fire in a wash of flame and began to fall, the wing being sheared off from the force on the way down. The first victim of the engagement, and of the conflict, had fallen, and with it gave the American his first kill; it would not be the last of any of these.

“Bandit down!”

Cole did not have time to celebrate or ponder, as he was still heading at the formation at a high speed. As soon as the impact was confirmed, his focus shifted to the next closest target. There was not enough time for to lock up the bomber and shoot a missile, but he saw a clear opportunity.

He switched over to the fighter’s machine gun, mounted to the upper right of the body. A green circle with a small dot in the middle took the center of his HUD, and he allowed the bomber to drift into the necessary position before pulling the trigger and firing off a burst. The rounds impacted on the nose of the Bear, near the cockpit, punching through and killing both pilots while badly damaging the aircraft. The second died more deliberately than its leader, slowly nosing down and entering an unstoppable dive as the remaining crew tried desperately to bail out.

Cole’s charge took him through to the other end of the formation. Looking back behind him, he saw the action had broken the formation completely. The remaining bombers were stunned by the appearance of fighter jets, and had broken formation to fly every which-way, some continuing to the target, some trying to escape. The hopeless pegasi escorts, expecting nothing more than their demoralized Equestrian counterparts and thus only armed with swords and crossbows, scattered completely, following the same pattern.

Over the radio he could hear the reports and yells from his allies, all calling in their own actions. The cries of ‘Fox Two’ and ‘Fox Three’ for missile launches of heat-seekers and radar missiles, respectively, became dominant. These were usually followed by the elated cry of confirmed kills. He tried to break them down, only focusing on those which were vital. One of these came in from his wingman.

“This is two, I got one on my tail,” Walker called, noticing an angry pegasus trying to keep up with the fighter. “The hell is he going to do?”

“Let’s not find out,” Cole replied. “Two, break off left at twenty degrees and continue evasion.”

“Copy.”

Runner’s aircraft shifted off to the left, with the pegasus continuing to follow, while Cole waited and turned shortly after, switching over to the AMRAAM.

“Cutting speed and turning in, switching to Slammer; alright, I’m on him.”

Locking onto a pegasus had worked before, and it had no trouble doing it now. With a few seconds to spare, the pegasus realized one of the fighters was chasing him now, and dropped away, diving for the ground. He did not react soon enough to prevent the lock from being finalized, with the first missile being launched with the appropriate call.

While the pegasus dove, Cole kept back and held his altitude, keeping an eye on the pegasus. He was all but certain that the missile would hit, but saw the target do something unexpected. It went and flew straight into a thick patch of forest near the ground, disappearing inside, with the missile following in. There was an explosion, but it seemed to have been from hitting a tree, as the dark pegasus flew back into the sky moments later.

“Huh, that’s pretty good,” Cole admitted, nudging the plane over the face the climbing pegasus. “But you should’ve stayed down there.”

Without clutter, the targeter locked onto the pegasus a second time and allowed the second AIM-120 to fire. The pegasus thought it had successfully escaped, and did not think it would be spotted again coming out, at least not in time to save himself. The missile connected perfectly, vaporizing the target into nothing more than some remaining spots of blood.

“Good kill, One,” Runner reported. “Returning to formation now.”

“That’s three,” Cole thought to himself. “How many more are there?”

“Alright, let’s find some more targets. Casino, Eagle One; can you vector me onto another target, over?”

“Two contacts moving north at angels twelve, bearing zero-four-four, less than two mikes from your position, over.”

“Copy, Casino, we’ll take them, out.”

“I already see them,” Runner chimed. “Two Bears, three o’clock low.”

Cole peered down from his seat to try and find them. Sure enough, some eight-thousand feet below them, two bombers were attempting to make their escape. Attempting to sneak by at a lower altitude had little chance of success with these odds. Cole ordered Runner to engage the second bomber while he took the first, and as they dove down, the two split up, one going off to the west while the other continued on its way.

Runner continued to follow his target while he followed the westward bound one, and Cole soon lost visual sight of his wingman as they went after their individual targets. The bomber was flying as fast as it could go, which would not be nearly enough to escape their hunters.
Cole caught up easily, with the bomber sluggishly attempting to zigzag and maneuver to throw him off, the tail gun firing bursts far off target. 

It presented no real challenge as Cole locked onto the Bear and shot off another Sidewinder. The missile tracked on and struck as it was making another hard right, the explosive detonating and shredding into the tail and rear body of the aircraft. The force added to the already turning aircraft and slowly flipped it near upside down, shuddering and slugging, presenting an uncontrollable problem as the fire spread and altitude was lost, signifying its doom.

“Four. How many more are there? I’m not hearing too much.”

“Eagle One, be advised you have a bandit trailing you,” the AWACS warned.

Checking behind him, sure enough, there was a shadow pegasus trying his hardest to keep up with the plane.

“Runner, can you get this guy off me?”

“Gimme a few, lead; I got one I’m trying to deal with now.”

“Copy that, I’ll see if I can deal with him myself.”

Cole’s plane had not been going incredibly fast, having only needed to chase down the bomber, and slowed down even more after it had died. He had increased it instinctively when the warning came in, but there was not much the pegasus could do. It seemed to be trying hard to keep up with the Eagle, which would not be enough. Regardless, Cole had already decided how to get on the offensive.

He quickly cut back on the plane’s power, dropping the speed and banking off to the left. The pegasus came rather close, but was able to slow himself down in time to just barely prevent himself from overshooting. The two were virtually next to each other in the sky, trying to slow down enough to stay on the other’s tail. The pegasus won this, deciding to do what the plane could not and come to a complete stop, hovering there for a bit.

This did not stop Cole; in fact, he turned it against his opponent. As the pegasus came to a stop, he increased speed a bit and continued his bank through a loop. Before the pegasus could start following him again, he was not only far ahead, but coming directly back in its direction.

The pegasus finally saw there was no realistic chance of victory, and attempted to escape by climbing towards the sky. This again proved no challenge for the fighter, but the real problem came in that it had no more missiles that would track on to it. Still, Cole did not want to give up; he still had his guns, and he intended to run his prey down with that.

He switched back to the Eagle’s Vulcan gun, which still had plenty of ammunition inside. It was frustrating work trying to get a good shot off at such a small target, though he was aided by the fact that the pegasus was not enacting any kind of heavy maneuvering. If he had to guess, the Shadow pony was simply scared to death and thought about nothing more than running.

Several short bursts were fired in the direction of the target, each missing only barely. The reticle continued to only give minor glimpses of good shots at the target. Finally, Cole fired off one long burst from his gun, loosing most of the remaining ammo he had left. However, it paid off, with a line of bullets stitching across the target’s body, giving off puffs of blood and shearing some pieces off completely. The pegasus’ body fell to back to earth, passing Cole’s Eagle on the way down, as it shot through the cloud layer and leveling out.

“That’s five!” he shouted to himself in his head. “Five kills!”

“Casino, Eagle One; you have any more targets, over?”

“Negative, scope is clean,” the report called. “Casino to all aircraft, all hostile targets confirmed destroyed. You are cleared to R.T.B., out.”





When Cole got out of his plane, he could feel his legs and hands shaking from the excitement. Finally, after years of training, waiting, and patrolling, the squadron had made itself useful, and ended their first engagement. Even if it was from luck, it could not have gone better, killing off almost the entire attacking force without a single loss.

It showed everywhere, too. Both the pilots and those on the ground were wearing confident smiles. The ponies, having finally seen their tormentors beaten, were in a greater state, shouting their congratulations and praise between the whooping and yelling. Oddly, it was not seen on Spitfire’s face as she came to meet Cole, who gave her the customary salute and carrying out the same old process.

“Real nice work, Captain,” she complemented. “I can see why so many look up to you Americans; I suppose I should thank you, as well.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am. If you don’t mind me asking, is there something wrong? You don’t seem very happy.”

“Trust me, I am,” she assured. “The problem is about what I was telling you over the radio earlier.”

“About us being given the permission to engage?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Even if you’re helping us now, and even if your country is going to help us now, the Princess has a very restrictive way of going about conflict, even now.”

“Wait, that doesn’t mean we’re in trouble, does it? Did we break any rules?”

“No, none that you could have known about,” she assured the pilot. “I doubt we’ll get in trouble after getting results like that, either. But that doesn’t mean we won’t be restricted in the future.”

“Restricted how?”

“We’ll have to wait and find out, just be sure to expect it. You’ll probably get more once that airbase is built; I’m pretty sure you’ll be based there, needless to say. Until then, we’ll just have to wait and see.”