September 13th, 2005
1120 Hours
Northwestern Equestria
The old claim of trouble coming in threes seemed to be ratifying itself with Cole and his squadron. First came the ambush of Charlie, and now he was given two new high-priority targets to protect, adding more work to the over-stretched unit. Supposedly there was only one more piece that would strike them, and he was slightly worried that it would come on this day. Still, it was only a superstition, and he instead focused his thought on the mission.
Back when it was just rumors, Cole did not know what to think. He had known that something secret was happening but did not know what. There were plenty of tall tales about what was happening, from secret C.I.A. bases to magical experiments. Now that he did know, he felt a bit more secure, but now felt a bit worried too due to the new responsibility the squadron had.
STEEL MILL and IRON MILL were the codenames for two massive, very advanced radar and listening posts being built in the north and south of Equestria, respectively, at two points named Celestia’s Point and Luna’s Point that lay very close to the frontline at the border. Their role, once complete was to act as a safe, stationary surveillance and monitoring post. Being so close to the front, and being so large and powerful, the radar could look far into enemy territory, tracking the movement of aircraft many miles behind the lines and giving the allied forces the forewarning needed to act decisively. Of course it would only be able to do so once it was finished and operational.
“Eagle One, this is Spyglass, we have a contact, over,” the AWACS warned the patrolling flight of fighters.
“Spyglass, One, send it, over.”
“One bogey bearing three-zero-zero, distance is one-zero-four mikes from your position at angels sixty. Present course will bring it over STEEL MILL. Move to intercept, copy?”
“Sixty-thousand feet high? Damn, that’s near the F-15’s max height,” Cole thought. “That’s got to be a recon plane.”
“Say again, Spyglass. Did you say angels sixty, over?”
“Affirmative, angels six-zero, but it seems to be decreasing that and speed as it approaches STEEL MILL, over”
“Understood, moving to intercept, out.”
“Cole, can you hear me?” called the voice of a familiar pegasus.
“Affirmative, Rainbow, but you need to stick to callsigns during missions,” the Captain replied. “Speaking of which you need to get one.”
“Rainbow is mine,” she replied. “But I’ll remember to go by your nickname now.”
Cole had the brief desire to point out that it was not a nickname, but decided to save it. Ever since the incident, the Equestrians had become worried about more fights breaking out and further losses being incurred by the squadron, as well as communication a bit. From here on, along with Cole and Walker flying with the patrolling flights, Dash would follow them as a liaison. With her own headset to communicate, she would stay back and keep an eye on things, and remind Cole and the others of the rules of engagement the Equestrians ordered. She did not seem overly-concerned about the job, and even seemed slightly happy at the prospect of flying with her friend, even if it was just to watch him. That was apparently part of the reason she had been sent back to Ponyville from the Academy.
“Remember not to shoot them, alright?” she reminded him.
“Copy that, Rainbow, we’ll see about getting him to turn around,” Cole acknowledged. “You reading that Eagles? No shooting him once we get in range.”
“Two copies lead, over.”
“Alpha reads you, One, just waiting on one-four to respond,” Firebird replied. “Orion, you reading?”
“Copy, copy, radio’s just acting up a little, over,” Lieutenant Hauser responded lately.
“You gotta turn back?”
“Negative, seems temporary.”
“Jeez, you guys have a lot of stuff to deal with in those jets, huh?” Rainbow asked.
“Well humans weren’t born with wings, so we have to make due,” Parrot retorted from his spot in Alpha’s formation.
“That’s too bad, you’ll never get to feel the wind in your mane… or… hair for you guys.”
“Worth it to me, with all the power you get in this ride.”
“Just glitchy comms, anyways,” Orion added.
“Alright, lock it up,” Cole interrupted. “Range is down to sixty, start looking for that bogey, copy?”
“Copy One,” both pilots replied.
The pilots began searching around for the reported aircraft. They were all able to track it on their radar, but they still needed to make a visual identification. If it was a reconnaissance aircraft, they would get in its face and surround it to convince it to turn around fastest. The first pilot to spot it was Lieutenant Desser, who directed his gaze a bit lower and spotted a dot moving across his sight.
“There he is, at our eight; he’s flying lower,” he reported.
“Tally-ho, I see him, he’s dropped down to somewhere around angels fifty,” Cole affirmed before noticing the location of the bogey. “Damn, he just flew over the site!”
“What’s that mean?” Rainbow asked. “Did he get pictures of the construction?”
“Yea, so even if he leaves he’ll have that info.”
“Guess we’ll have to capture him then,” Rainbow suggested.
“Force him down? Christ, I guess we don’t have a choice,” Cole agreed, switching back to the AWACS. “Spyglass, Eagle One. Bogey has made pass over STEEL MILL and looks to be turning back. We’ll try to force him to land, copy?”
“Understood, Eagle One, out.”
“Alright guys, let’s get in real close. Make sure he sees us,” he went on to ordering the squadron. “Alpha flight, stay on alert and keep on watch. Two, get behind him and be ready to lock on if we need to.”
The fighters were able to cover the distance quickly, though Rainbow lagged behind by a short distance, and before long they surrounded the defenseless spy plane on all ends, hoping to change its direction like a group of cowboys turning their cattle. The spy plane, however, began to climb up, perhaps intending to lose its assailants. Looking over the design, Cole was unable to identify what kind of aircraft it was, having not seen one like it before. There were no markings, which made sense for a spy plane, even though it was clear the pilot was probably a Griffon.
“Spyglass, Eagle, we have eyes on the bogey but cannot identify the type. Aircraft isn’t something I’ve seen before, over,” he called the AWACS, hoping it could help.
“Copy One. Can you describe it, over?”
“Affirmative. Small body, front around the nose and cockpit is smaller and thinner, dual engines right next to each-other in the back, long wing span, twin boom fuselage. Anything like that in the books, over?”
The operator in the large aircraft took a minute to look for the described design before reporting back.
“Eagle, positive I.D. on the design as M-55 spy plane; codename ‘Mystic’,” Spyglass responded. “They never went into full production. We should assume the Bloc made their own variant for similar purposes as the original mission it was designed for, over.”
“Copy. Anything we should know about it, over?”
“It’s like most other average spy planes. You guys can keep its speed but it’s max ceiling is at seventy, so higher than yours. You need to bring it down fast, how copy, over?”
“So we are on a time limit, but even him getting that high won’t stop a missile,” Cole thought before responding. “Solid copy, Spyglass; attempting to make contact now, out.”
Cole switched over to a more open channel so the pilot in the Mystic would still hear.
“Testing, testing. Attention unidentified aircraft, this is the Special Volunteer Squadron ‘Eagle’ of the Royal Equestrian Air Force. You are trespassing in restricted airspace. Do you copy, over?”
No response came, and the aircraft continued to fly.
“Unidentified aircraft, can you identify yourself, over?”
Again, the radio remained quiet, save for Firebird adding a snarky comment.
“Maybe the crow’s more of a chicken,” he quipped.
“I think he’s just being stubborn,” Rainbow replied.
“Unidentified aircraft, be advised that, due to your flyover of a restricted area, you will be forced to land to confirm you are not conducting illegal activities. If you do not comply you may be shot down,” Cole continued to send, wondering if he was just saying it to get past the formalities and restrictions at this point.
“Please try not to shoot him down so there’s no more trouble,” Rainbow emphasized yet again. “Maybe his radio’s broken. Can you try anything else?”
“Wait one, Rainbow,” he replied before going to another of his wingmen. “Eagle One-Three, fly up close to the canopy and see if you can gesture to the pilot that he needs to follow us. His radio might be down, copy?”
“Copy One,” the fighter replied, coming very close alongside the Mystic as Cole continued to transmit.
“Be advised, we will escort you to the nearest airfield. Please respond in some way if you understand.”
The spy plane continued no other action beyond continuing its climb, which was now approaching the point that was difficult for the Eagles to keep up. There was no response inside or out of the plane. Cole gave a quick order to Runner to be ready to fire if it was needed. He was preparing to send out one final warning, but was interrupted by the operator from Spyglass before he could start.
“Warning, multiple bogies inbound at high speed, crossing the warning line at bearing two-eight-four at angels forty. We count eight contacts in two separate groups separated from each other by a good distance. Eagles, move to intercept immediately!”
“Crossing the border to fly cover for the spy plane huh?” Cole said to himself. “There’s a fighter pilot worth his wings.”
“Bogies closing fast! They’ll be on us in less than a minute!” Runner warned, keeping an eye on the four dots.
“Ok, there’s more of them in total than us. Leave the Mystic, we’ll have to deal with the fighters so we don’t get caught off guard and get shot in the rear,” Cole ordered. “Let’s go, meet them head-on!”
“Oh man, this is getting out of hoof,” Rainbow worried. “Now they’re sending fighter jets!”
“Calm down, Dash, you’ll be fine,” the Captain assured her. “Just stay back and low and away from them; we won’t let them hit you.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” she responded.
Before Cole could ask otherwise, Firebird reported the flight of four fighters was closing in. From the looks of it, this group was also made up of Fulcrums, probably from the same nation as the Mystic, and as with Charlie flight, the range advantage the Eagles had with the AMRAMMs had been negated. He kept the rules of engagement in mind and was going to send a contact request when the two initial flights made contact and everything broke down immediately.
Rather than pull a fancy ambush like with Charlie flight, the Fulrcums opened fire as soon as the American came within range. The Eagles quickly broke their formation and moved in every which way to avoid the shots. Cole could not tell if any missiles had been shot, but the Eagles seemed to be firing off flares and chaff regardless, and he could definitely make out tracer rounds flying through the air.
“Heads up, they’re firing on us!” Parrot called in, watching the four Fulcrums fly past, maintaining their finger-four formation.
“A-alright, let’s get out of here!” Rainbow called out. “Fly back as fast as you can, just don’t let them catch you!”
“Run!? They’ve already caught us!” Parrot called from his position lower down. “Come on, those aren’t blanks they’re firing out there!”
“Dash are you serious!?” Firebird yelled back. “What’s the point of us if we can’t fight!? Are we just going to get sacrificed!?”
“One-One, this is lead, calm down and listen to me good! Keep quiet and focus on the fight, you hear?”
“I hear you One!”
“Good, now shut your mouth and fire back!” Cole ordered. “Eagles, turn and engage!”
“Cole stop! We can’t do this!” Dash called out.
“No way! I’m not watching anymore of my pilots die!”
“Parrot’s engaging, I’m on one now!” the Alpha flight pilot called, flying close behind an unnoticing Fulcrum and getting a lock for his Sidewinder. “Fox Two!”
The missile dropped from the plane and ignited, shooting through the air and impacting its target dead on. The Fulcrum lurched with most of its back half on fire, and began to tumble through the air. The Griffon pilot failed to eject, while the rest of his wingmen scurried through their own maneuvers.
Rainbow watched from a short ways away as the first aircraft fell to the Earth as a spot of fire, trailing smoke as it went. She knew what Spitfire and the other commanders had told her, and what the letter from Celestia said. She could not let this happen, and she wanted to yell out at the top of her lungs for it to stop. She should have told them to turn back when the Griffon fighters appeared to begin with.
At the same time, seeing the F-15s turn wildly through the air, she was reminded of her first day on Earth. She remembered how she had been ambushed, hurt, and how afraid she had been, followed by a sense of embarrassment at it, and then gratitude to Cole for saving her. Now, watching his white-nosed, gold-beaked Eagle break and spin as it raced into another fight, being fired upon by an enemy, she found herself unable to yell at him, or the other Americans. All she could do was watch from a distance.
“What do I do? I can’t do anything!” she said to herself. “Oh Celestia… what are they doing? What am I doing!?”
“Ready Runner? We’re gonna shoot them all down!” Cole called.
He dropped onto one of the Fulcrums before his wingman responded, one which had broken off of the formation to chase another Alpha Eagle after the first MiG was shot down. As was the case with many air combat kills, the victim never saw or even knew they were in danger until it was far too late. Cole got a lock with a Sidewinder and fired almost immediately, killing the unsuspecting Griffon.
The final two MiGs found themselves in a terrible position, and began to maneuver defensively in the hope of holding out for rescue from their comrades. One broke off to the right when an F-15 got on his tail and unintentionally flew across Orion’s bow and gave him a good shot, killing him with an AMRAMM. The second was chased down by Desser and another aircraft and, after a few minutes and two missed heat-seeker shots, Firebird killed it with his third shot.
“Bandit’s down! Anymore?” he asked.
“Four more coming close,” Cole warned. “Get your flight back together and meet them with whatever Slammers you have left.”
“Copy! Alpha, form back up on me and get ready to bracket them!”
“They’re almost in range for their missiles; you turn away if you see any shots,” the Captain ordered. “Don’t get in any danger. We’ve got numbers so let's take them apart, copy?”
“Got it!”
“Good. Runner, we’re going up top again!”
“Ok, Alpha, get back together and engage with radar missiles,” Desser commanded, keeping track on the approaching enemy flight. “We’ll be meeting directly again; engage your corresponding number.”
The pilots did not need much more clarification, quickly locking up their targets. However, some unknown confusion presented itself, as it always does in battle, as to which corresponding number, as there were five of them to the four Fulcrums. Firebird’s wingman, assuming he was to follow as did commander did, and targeted the same aircraft as him, assuming the others would target the rest. However, the fifth and final Eagle assumed correctly that he was supposed to target the same craft as the number four in the formation, Orion, and that there was no major reshuffle. Consequently only three of the MiGs were targeted, the first and fourth by two Americans.
Still, no one spoke up and went forward all the same, launching the mid-ranged AMRAMMs amidst multiple calls of ‘Fox Three’. These Fulcrums did not wait to close the range as their confident counterparts had, and though the Americans fired first, they stayed in formation a few seconds more to fire some of their own shorter-ranged radar missiles. Firebird immediately gave the order to break up and scatter, each of the Eagles firing off chaff decoys as they turned to avoid the missiles, one of which came precariously close to hitting Parrot. The Fulcrums did the same and, while they watched their own shots fall short with, the dismay turned to fear as two of their own exploded.
“Keep turning away from them, Alpha,” Cole told the flight before going back to his subordinate.
“Got two left, Runner. Think you can take the farther one?”
“I’ll get him, Captain!”
“Alright, let’s go!”
The two F-15s, which had been observing from a short ways back in the clouds, dived down on the remaining two MiGs. Runner went after the farthest Fulcrum, which had barely avoided the American missile shot at it, and chased it down quickly, keeping up with the tight evasions and eventually killing it when it turned too lightly. Cole went after the closer one which had not been fired upon at all and was attempting to follow the Alpha fighters.
As the two were going in opposite directions, and the range was rather low, he fired a Slammer almost immediately, and followed with a Sidewinder for good measure to ensure the Fulcrum would either die fast or evade so it would not fire on his allies again. The Griffon did attempt to evade, but did so too late, and the AMRAMM caught him in a hard bank and sent the aircraft into a fiery cartwheel before the heater impacted a second later and disintegrated it.
“Is that it? Does anyone have any more contacts?” Cole asked, with no one replying in the affirmative. “Spyglass, Eagle One, bandits are down. Any further contacts on radar, over?”
“Negative, all infiltrating bogey aircraft have been destroyed or are withdrawing. The Mystic just crossed back into Bloc air space, over.”
“Damn… alright, we’ll have to worry about that latter,” he replied. “Squadron, sound off. Is everyone ok, over?”
“Two reads you One.”
“Alpha… seems ok Captain,” Desser reported, seemingly winded but unhurt. “One-Three, respond, over.”
“Eagle One-Three, respond immediately,” Cole called out. “Hey Parrot, can you hear my voice? I see your plane flying.”
“Uh… no sir, got a bit of ringing in my ears,” Parrot said. “Guess all the blood drained out of my head when I did that last turn.”
“That means you can hear me, Parrot,” Cole replied. “Ok, is that everyone?”
Cole counted up his flight before suddenly remembering an important member who had been silent for some time.
“Dash, are you still with us?” he asked, not getting an immediate response. “Dash? Hey Rainbow, are you ok?”
“Y-yea, I’m good… just a little shaken up,” the pegasus responded from a short ways away, flying close to the ground.
“Alright, good, you had me worried for a second,” Cole responded before realizing that they had not lost anyone this round. “We’ll have to commemorate the fact that we all made it out of that battle alive.”
“Got any ideas, One, over?” Runner asked.
“I’ll think of something. Let’s head home for now, everyone R.T.B.; we lost that spy plane, but we showed some resolve today. I think that’s something to celebrate, out.”
Cole sat on a bench outside one of the hangers, trying to enjoy some solitude as the sun set. Surely enough, there was trouble to pay later on, as Spitfire had come down from the Academy to talk with him about the incident. She seemed more concerned on the overall situation of the countries and what happened than in actually disciplining anyone. It only confirmed to Cole that she was not a heavy-yelling type on average, except maybe in training he guessed, but not in much else.
“Hi John,” he heard Rainbow’s voice from the side, as the pegasus fluttered over to take a seat next to him.
“Hey, what brings you here?”
“One of your Lieutenants, Sylvester, he invited some ponies in town to come watch a movie on base… Magnificent Seven, that’s the one,” Dash explained. “One of my friends, Applejack, she seemed pretty excited. I’m not too sure if I’d like it though.”
“Nah, that movie would be right up your alley.”
“Yea?”
“Yep, all about cowboys being heroes and saving a village from bandits and such,” the tired American explained. “It’s old, but it’s still pretty cool.”
“Heh, sounds like it. That… actually reminds me of something I wanted to ask about.”
“What’s that?”
“Well… I just feel weird I guess,” she said, struggling to explain. “I mean… back before… everything that happened, me and my friends went on all kinds of adventures, and we’d save the day and ponies would call us heroes all the time.”
“I remember hearing about all that,” Cole recalled.
“But at the same time it was always my dream to join the Wonderbolts, cause they were always the best, y’know? But now, even though I kind of did join, I don’t feel like I’m doing very much anymore, cause there’s no more adventures. I guess I’m kind of the best, but it’s… well.”
“Kinda hollow?” Cole suggested. “Empty?”
“Yea, I guess there’s no point in being the best at something if you can’t do anything with it,” Rainbow pouted. “You ever feel that way? About being the best and being useless and not being a hero and stuff?”
“Heh, well I’m flattered, but I’m not the best Dash,” he replied. “That doesn’t really matter to me.”
“It doesn’t?”
“Nope, the second part is what does matter, if I’m doing something good and useful and such. That takes top priority to me.”
“That feels weird, seeing how much you do and everything,” the pegasus responded. “I guess I figured you were the best because you were a big hero and everything.”
“That’s the thing, you don’t have to be the best to be a hero. You just do the right thing and be good enough to do it.”
“Huh, never thought of it like that.”
“But don’t let me quench your drive, it’s different for everyone,” Cole continued to explain. “I’m just talking about me, and me I don’t mind being stuck in a spot so long as I’m doing something.”
“Speaking of being stuck somewhere, did you hear Spifire’s going to be sticking around now?”
“Yea, she was ordered to take your place, apparently.”
“They want someone a little stricter on the job,” Rainbow explained.
“I don’t think it’ll make much change, really,” Cole admitted. “Oh, and I’m sorry if I snapped at you and ignored you and such in the operation today. Just need to make snap decisions, and I can get a little demanding I guess.”
“Hey, don’t be; I was more worried about you. You didn’t get in too much trouble, huh?”
“Nah, doesn’t matter to me much anyways. There’s not much they can do beyond what my Air Force has done,” the pilot went on, standing up and straightening his back out. “I know I’m going to be stuck as a Captain forever. I don’t really mind though; like I said, prestige isn’t my thing.”
“It’s about doing the right thing,” Rainbow finished.
“Yep.”
“But… how do we know if we’re doing the right thing?”
“Hm… well my little pony,” he said, sitting back down and putting an arm on her shoulder, “that’s something I don’t know. But I do know we need to find out, and we’ll all do it together.”
“Sounds like an adventure!” Dash replied with a smile.