//------------------------------// // Bolt from the Blue // Story: Nearing the Edge // by Eagle //------------------------------// April 18th, 2006 0800 Hours Canterlot, Equestria Source The initial attacks on Canterlot had been focused on the airbase there. Canterberry Air Base, the largest airbase in the country, was still operational. Repair crews had been working constantly since the attack, repairing what damage they could. What could not immediately be fixed was the losses to the squadrons stationed there. The 27th fighter squadron, one of the few that flew the deadly F-22 Raptor, had been nearly wiped out before it could even get off the ground. With 19 of its aircraft destroyed or damaged on the ground, what was left pulled back to an airfield in the east of the country to recuperate and replace the losses, and leaving only one operational Raptor squadron in the theater for the time being. The other squadrons fared slightly better, with Midnight Strike’s being one of them. Star Hunter and most of his had been away the night of the attack, returning to the capital in a hurry to join in the war. Strike had requested to talk to him when he arrived, though she did not say about what. Upon arriving at Canterberry, he headed straight for the dining facility, where Strike asked him to meet. He found her sitting at a corner table alone, looking down in silence. “Morning, Strike,” he greeted, taking a seat in the chair across from her. “You wanted to talk to me?” “Yea… I think… well you're the only one around here that can help… I mean Thunderlane’s still away and...” she sighed, burying her head in her hooves. “Strike? Are you alright?” She did not reply immediately, keeping her head down beneath her mane. “Strike, you have to tell me what's wrong if you want me to help.” “I have to quit,” the mare replied finally, lifting her head and leaving a small teardrop on the table. “I… can't do this, I… I have to quit. I'm… just not cut out for fighting, or leading a squadron... or anything.” She took a moment to wipe her reddened eyes with her hoof before continuing. “When the base was getting attacked I just… I ran and hid! I-I didn't even try to get up and get to my plane! I hid like some scared little filly! I didn't even try… I didn't even try to help anypony around me!” “Calm down Strike, I think you're being too hard on yourself,” Hunter replied. “How? I'm a coward… I… I hid.” “You're not a coward, Strike. You got scared and your reaction was totally natural. You just have to find a way of getting past that.” “That still means I'm not fit to fight yet,” she continued. “Why should I stay if I can't control myself?” “Well, foremost, I don't think you'll be allowed to leave,” Hunter stated the obvious. The mare's eyes opened up wide from the realization before she turned her attention back to the table. “O-oh… yeah… I guess that's true.” “Even if you're afraid, you're a good pilot, Midnight, I've seen that for myself,” he continued. “We need good pilots, especially now that the war has started. We can't afford to lose you in any way.” “Well… if you say so,” she mumbled, looking back to the table. “Feeling better?” “Not rea- uh… I guess so… in a weird way,” she mumbled, now wanting to change the topic. “So… how is Compass doing? Since the war started I mean. I haven't seen him around, or anypony else from the wing.” “Not sure, I haven't talked to him either. His and Thunderlane’s squadron were away, but they'll be back here soon enough. I'm sure he's fine.” “Just keep an eye on him, please?” “Compass can take care of himself. He doesn't need me to look over him.” “I don't know, you know how he is. Please, just-” Their discussion was cut by the shriek of the air raid siren. “Another raid? They're here faster than I thought,” Hunter responded calmly. “We’d better get going. Try not to worry too much. I’ll see you again when the attack’s over and we’ll go over it some more.” The atmosphere of the air base was far more chaotic compared to Hunter’s initial reaction. The attack had not yet reached the air base, but the frenzy to prepare and launch the aircraft was as fast as could be. The infectious rushing attitude caught on to Hunter, and he found himself pushed into a hurry to reach his fighter by an American First Lieutenant. “We’re not going to have a briefing first?” Hunter asked next to his F-15 as they waited on the final preparations to finish. “No time! Those bandits are already here and we need to get everyone into the air ASAP! First wave just finished it’s strikes!” “Finished? I didn’t see any strikes around here.” “Not here, the city,” the Lieutenant clarified. “Your bird’s ready! Get going!” “Canterlot!? Why did they attack Canterlot itself?” “I don’t know! Now get up there and follow your orders before it happens again!” Hunter boarded his fighter with some help from the crew and began to move forward, halting alongside two other jets. Despite the war starting the night before, the Americans and Equestrians were still scrambling to ready what they had. It all felt very last-minute, but perhaps the full realization of the beginning and scale of the conflict was not realized, along with the scale of the crippling strikes from hours before. The constant flow of chatter from the radio reflected this as he waited for further instructions. “Control, we need to get our planes up fast,” the Falcon pilot ahead of him called. “We got clearance to takeoff?” “Ah… confirmed… alright that group of three, you all taxi to the runway and takeoff immediately!” “Control, who’s attacking?” Hunter asked. “Exact nationality is unknown at this time, just take off and rendezvous the the other airborne aircraft at the given rally point.” Hunter’s F-15 rolled onto the wide runway flanked by planes from two other squadrons. “You head up first, Hunter Lead. Make sure you got everything squared away, then we’ll see about shooting down the bad guys,” one of the American pilots ordered. “Don’t get over-eager, just do what you always do!” The Equestrian pilot increased the throttle on his plane and the engines lit their afterburners, pushing him down the runway. Hunter did not wait for the air to lift him on its own and began to pull back on the flight stick. With the speed increasing, the F-15 soared into the air, flanked by the other jets taking off shortly behind him. “This is Hunter, I’m airborne. Control, can you vector me to a target, over?” “Proceed to the designated point, Hunter, you’ll receive your instructions there. Don’t ask me again!” the operator in the control tower demanded before turning to focus on his other duties. “Alright, their launch is confirmed. Cerberus team, runway clearance granted, takeoff when ready!” “Hunter Lead to any Hunter units, please respond, over.” “Hunter Lead, this Hunter Two-Two. Me and Two-Four are holding at the rally point, over.” “Is there anypony else from the squadron there?” “We haven’t heard from any yet.” “Alright, get into formation behind me.” The two wingponies did as commanded, falling in behind their leader, one on each side. The three pulled up and away to join the motley collection of planes gathering away from the airfield and city. More joined periodically in random numbers as more took off from Canterberry Air Base as a sole American AWACS attempted to organize them into a proper force to fight off the attack. “This is USAF Airborne Warning and Control System Ghost Eye to all scrambling allied aircraft,the situation has not yet been ascertained. We must implement an emergency reformation,” the operator explained. “You are now under US Airborne Command’s jurisdiction following takeoff for this engagement. All Equestrian squadrons are to be paired with a USAF unit to ensure effectiveness and stability; follow your individual instructions.” “Two-Two, is there any word on how bad the city was hit?” “From what I heard there’s extensive damage from strategic bombers, and a number of civilian casualties,” answered his wingpony, Tailored Top. “Strategic bombers? This far out? Were our fighter squadrons hit that hard?” “It seems like it.” “Then we shouldn’t waste any time. We don’t need an American units to watch over us,” Hunter said, switching back over to the AWACS. “Hunter to Ghost Eye, please vector us to a target. We’re ready to engage, over.” “Negative Hunter team, you don’t have a liaison squadron. We need to give you some wingmen,” the operator countered as he tried to find an available unit. “Let’s see… Shamrock! Shamrock is Garuda team alone too?” “Affirmative.” “Very well, Garuda is now going to back up Hunter squadron for this operation.” “Okay,” the human pilot acknowledged as the two-jet team moved over next to Hunter’s. “Hunter team, this is Garuda Two Shamrock with Garuda One Talisman. It’s nice to be working with you. Don’t worry, we’ll have your back.” “Likewise Garuda Two, thank you for the help.” “Happy to; no time for introductions now though, we’ve got to clear out the sky. I’m just gonna be following Garuda One’s lead on this, never was good with directions anyhow.” “Garuda, Hunter, you are authorized to engage any hostile aircraft above Canterlot,” the AWACS announced. “Flight of eight bandits at bearing two-nine-eight, angels thirty. Looks like Bears and some escorts. Adjust your course to intercept.” “Roger that!” Shamrock called out as the team dived off in the given direction. “Let’s follow on,” the pony ordered as his flight shifted in accordance. “Our sun will shine on us today.” Throughout the airspace a spread out battle erupted as the Allied fighters engaged groups of hostile aircraft both above the city or inbound towards it. With the Shadows having struck the air base the night before, most of the new attack was focused on Canterlot itself. Dark pillars of smoke began to rise up at various locations, either from the attacks themselves or from the graves of downed aircraft. The initial commotion in the city evolved to panic, and soon spread much faster than the damage and casualties. Hunter’s group arrived close enough to fire their missiles at the oncoming bombers, their escorting fighters being entangled on the whim of the human pilots accompanying them. With no interruption, Hunter and his team volleyed their long-range missiles at the formation, each Eagle firing two or three of the weapons. Each hit and three Tu-95s were turned into balls of fire and metal debris in seconds. “Bears are down, let’s switch over to the fighters now.” “Garuda already took three down,” Shamrock notified. “Take care of the rest so we can move on.” Hunter’s team shot down the final two escorts themselves, with his wingpony Top destroying one that attempted to tail his commander. The other, a Flanker, also attempted to get behind Hunter but moved too fast to do so. The Equestrian calmly reduced his speed and pulled into a shallow turn, allowing the Su-27 to overshoot him. One Sidewinder later and the final enemy of the formation died, allowing the pilots to switch to other targets. “We’ve got an idea on the invaders. We’re engaged with the Griffon military,” the AWACS announced, having finally discerned the identity of the assaulting jets. “I could’ve told you that! I’m seeing plenty of Crow symbols on these birds over here,” one of the Americans responded. “The Griffons?” Garuda team’s two asked. “Figured the Shadows couldn’t hit us again this fast, but I didn’t think the Crows would be nuts enough to hit us this far out. The Bugs yeah, but not them. You’d think they’d be a little more stable.” “Their country’s been in shambles for years before we came to Earth,” Hunter returned. “Looks like they finally snapped.” “Hunter team, this is Comet. Us and Nickel squadron are engaged with a few more of them to your northeast and could use an extra hoof if you’re not busy,” called another Equestrian squadron. “There’s another flight of bombers making runs on the Tower District and New Town, and another passing by us towards the Castle Quarter.” “We’re on our way, Comet.” “I can’t believe they struck us hard enough last night that they can launch air raids on Canterlot,” Top commented. “I was hoping the city would be safe from all this. The Americans told us it would be.” “Those bastards think they can just barge into someone’s house without even calling first,” remarked one of Nickel’s pilots. “Unbelievable!” I say we teach them a few manners before we kick ‘em out!” Shamrock suggested. The various planes continued their battle in the muddled, extensive dogfight that raged over the entire area. Any wandering eyes from the pilots caught full sights of the war extending its reach over the city. SAMs launched from missile launchers on the ground, their white smoke trails mingling and contrasting with the black plumes. A string of explosions ran in a line along the ground among the buildings as a bomber released its payload. One of Hunter’s wingponies shot it down moments later with his guns, unintentionally causing additional devastation as the bomber crashed. The two sides tangled mercilessly in the skies above. The citizens below who were too awestruck to seek cover acted as unwilling observers to the battle, trying to make out the fast-moving jets through the clouds and the bright sunshine. Most ponies below, in spite of some moderate wartime preparations, could not tell the difference between models they did catch glimpses of. Depending on the individual pony’s view, each explosion in the air signaled either triumph or disaster. Either way, all they could do was search for a glimpse of anything in the confusion. A Falcon chasing after a Flanker, a Mirage trailing smoke, a Fulcrum nosediving earthward, a Strike Eagle running through the clouds with another Falcon on its wing. Whatever small pieces those below clamoured for would be completely inadequate for them to understand the way the battle was going, and only those who were fighting it could have a reasonable grasp of the situation. The Griffon raid began to falter as losses mounted. Hunter watched Garuda team’s lead destroy the final bomber in their area as it tried to flee, its life ending as the pilot’s sixth kill of the battle. As the bombers either retreated or died, the fighters found little reason to stay. Bit by bit, the Griffon fighters disengaged from the battle and flew back west, at times tailed by some of the more aggressive Americans. “Looks like the Crows are running out of steam. Had enough boys?” one of the American pilots taunted over an open channel. “Nickel One to all units, I’m reforming my squadron to chase them down. Any plane that has enough fuel and ammo left feel free to join us.” “Nickel this is Hunter One, I have to advise against that. Our primary objective is to keep the city safe, and there’s already been widespread damage,” the Equestrian fighter suggested. “We’re at war now, we can’t just let them get away,” the human shot back. “We need to chase those buzzards back to their nest and slaughter them!” “He’s right, our job above everything else right now is to protect the city. We still don’t know how bad it is out there, and another raid might be on its way,” Garuda Two pointed out. “We need to rearm and reorganize. We can’t afford to lose anyone else.” “Damn it, alright. Let’s get everyone back on the ground again. I’m sure we’ll have more coming soon enough.” “Lead… I can’t tell… did we do good?” asked Top. “We turned the enemy back, the mission was accomplished,” Hunter answered. “Yes but did we do good? Look at the city.” “I… Maybe. It could be worse.” “I hope we can stop it from getting worse.” “I do too.”