//------------------------------//
// Shockwaves 
// Story: Nearing the Edge 
// by Eagle 
//------------------------------//

June 15th, 2006
1130 Hours
Las Pegasus, Southeast Equestria





The rolling hills around Las Pegasus, tumbling up and down along the landscape in chartreuse and ochre, was a calm idyll that the marines had spent months running over. But not the hills, all the open land of Applewood, the little green that lay before the San Palomino Desert across from the canyon, was to be torn apart. First by the entrenching tools of the men, and eventually the grinding armaments of war.

The grudging restrictions of General Hall had borne its awful fruit, and the change in command had not come soon enough. Without enough notice to move and deploy against the rapid advance of the enemy, the 1st Marine Division was soon going to be surrounded and cut off in Las Pegasus. In turn, the MARDIV dug in for a protracted defense. The area was sandwiched between the thin Long Trot River and the Dusthoof Arroyo, a long-running, deep canyon that stretched for such a way up till the ocean that separated the area from the San Palomino Desert. With the Applewood Mountains off to the north, this in turn meant that, while surrounded on land, their enemy could only attack them from one front. 

However, despite the demands of the Commandant that they be allowed to stand and fight, after a week of fighting the decision was made to extract the division by sea. The overall strategic situation across the continent was poor, and allowing the division to remain would only doom it to a long death; losing it would be totally unacceptable. As such, the Navy scrambled to initiate Operation Backgammon and extract the marines by sea, the only open route remaining, before that too was cut off. The marines were to be shuttled back to Hawaii, after which they would reorganize before finding the best way to use them to counter-attack.

“How much longer are they going to make us wait?” Chaffin complained. “We’ve been out here for an hour.”

“You’re telling me, we’re so fucking exposed out in the open like this,” Diego agreed. “Bugs are just over the rise there too. One artillery strike and the whole platoon’s fucked. How did they not see us rolling up?”

“I’m just that good of a driver,” Roycewicz answered smugly.

“San what’s the new callsign?” Chaffin quizzed him suddenly.

“Alta.” 

“Correct, finally.”

“All the ‘a’ words we could get in the reshuffle and we got that.”

“I like it, could be worse.”

“Avalanche, asteroid, anvil, amulet,” Diego drones on, trying to occupy himself.

“Next time you can put in a formal complaint and they’ll let you pick out of the Corps-approved dictionary,” said Roycewicz.

“Arrow, arson, ace,” he continued in a mumble, only trying to keep himself from thinking too much about the upcoming battle. 

“Ant.”

“Alloy.”

“Arquebuse.”

“Oh okay smartass.”



“Is the air still in play?” Chaffin asked, trying to continue the conversation.

“Yeah last I check we’ve got plenty. Our own birds as well as the Navy guys from the Stennis. Chair Force even bothered to send some guys down.”

“Aw, see Chaff? They do care,” Roycewicz tacked on.

“They better, bunch of pussies.” 

Diego opened his hatch to allow some fresh air in, but it was soiled. They were positioned downwind from the earlier battle, and the breeze picked up the odor of war and carried it. Even from this distance, they could smell the powerful aroma of various blasting powders, and the mixed smoke of burning buildings and plant life. Surprisingly, almost embarrassingly, the Marines had almost forgotten what it felt like to be on a real battlefield, having not been in combat since their tangle with the Changeling paratroopers some time ago. Slowly they began to realize again just how war pressured them at every sense and angle.

“Alta Three-One this is Trapper Two-One, we’re coming up at your six now.”

“Hey hey, it’s about fucking time Trapper,” Diego half-chuckled to the radio in response, just happy that they could finally get to work. “You guys enjoy your stroll up here?”

“Glad we could make it to the party.”

“I know you Second Battalion boys don’t love us that much, but you think next time you can hustle a little instead of letting your fellow marine sit around out here like a fish on a hook?”

“Maybe you can take us with you next time taxi boy, your fat asses have the wheels anyways.”

“Yeah alright, listen the tangos over the next rise don’t seem to know we’re here. Get your recon done and let us know when you hash out a battle plan, kill?”

“Copy that, sit tight Alta.”

The LAVs continued to wait anxiously, in a deep frustration from the conditions, holding on by patience for the infantry to ready themselves. Due to the suddenness of the mission, there was little time for an actual recon team to do work. Even as an ‘Armored Reconnaissance Battalion, they had to make do on their own without eyes to guide their actions. 

The infantry moved slowly against the ground, taking care not to be spotted as they peaked over the rise. After a short while they returned in the same way, conversed with the rest of their team, and tried to come up with a plan of attack. The LAV’s radio crackled and spoke up again after eighteen minutes of quiet.

“Alta, Trapper. The built up area ahead contains numerous foot-mobiles but no victors spotted. Just infantry but some of them may have AT launchers.”

“Copy that, you have a plan? What do you want us to do?”

“Only thing we can do, we’re gonna hump it out and move in as quick as we can. We can’t have you guys doing an armor assault first if they have AT, so we need you guys to move up and lay down suppressing fire on them. Cover us until we can get in there and drive them out, oorah?”

“Oorah, Trapper, you ready to step off?”

“Affirmative, as soon as you guys open up we’ll step to it. Just don’t shoot us in the back.”

“Copy that, Alta out,” Diego confirmed, now switching to his own platoon’s radio. “Alta 1-4 here, all Alta 4 units, we’re going to advance up to that peak and hold there, lay down heavy fire once the enemy is in sight. We’re covering the infantry as they move in so watch your aim. How copy over?”

The three other vehicles in the platoon confirmed and waited as the infantry moved up, crawling along the red ground under them. Before long there was a series of cracks, and the infantry on both sides began to exchange fire, the pitifully short moment of surprise gone. The LAV platoon advanced as planned, moving on the left of the Marine infantry and holding to suppress the hostiles.

“Gunner, targets all along our front, in those shot up buildings, engage with coax. Save the cannon for when we need it.”

“Engaging.”

The LAV’s machine gun, already worn by the days of combat without much maintenance, rattled away as Chaffin fired long bursts of rounds at the Changeling infantry hiding on the second floor of a large concrete building. The other vehicles opened fire as well, and the sustained attack by a full platoon of LAVs was more than enough to cause the Changelings to shrink back away from any openings. The Marine infantry advanced quickly, not stopping until they had reached the edge of the compound, and began the process of clearing the buildings of the enemy lurking deep within.

“Chaff, gunner, cease fire. Don’t go shooting our own guys,” Diego ordered.

“Sorry, got it, trigger finger is stowed.”

The remaining LAVs did the same, holding their attack and awaiting any need for their commander to request it. They instead watched, waiting for any development, as their fellow Marines moved into the complex and out of sight. The infantry took to clearing the rooms with prejudice, grenading any occupants who were too well positioned to terminate with gunfire. First one building was clear, then the next, then another as they worked their way through.

“Alta, Trapper, you still there?”

“Affirmative Trapper. You guys on?” 

“Yeah we’re good, complex is clear of tangos. We found RPGs on these guys, fuckers are definitely packing heat. We have the second just a ways up but there’s a lot more Bugs up there with MGs and on alert. Can you give us a hand and punch through? Over.”

“Affirmative Trapper, we’ll try and run right through, but you tell your guys to keep close if they’ve got anti-tank there! Kill?”

“You got it Alta, I’ll get my guys together, out!”

“Driver move out, down the road into the complex, take it slow,” Diego said before passing orders to the others. “Alta Victors, form column. We’re going to escort the infantry up to the next compound and then run right through it to the other side! Maximum fire output, they’ve got AT so keep their heads down and chew up anything that moves!”

The LAVs formed into a single file, moving in through the buildings where the infantry had gathered underneath the barrage of small arms fire from the upslope buildings.

“Chaff, cannon, HE, coax too. Engage at will. Everything to our front is bad guys.”

“Oorah!”

“Driver, ready? Go, go now, fast move!”

The LAV lurched ahead from its slow crawl up the twisting incline, the tires rubbing harshly over the broken road and dust and dirt. Two the LAVs in the rear swept the taller three-story structure with machine gun and cannon fire, knocking off pieces of it in the process. Chaffin immediately identified a mounted machine gun behind sandbags and barbed wire, and four high explosive rounds demolished the position and the crew there. The vehicles moved through the thin single line of building to the other side, Chaffin trying desperately to rotate the turret as they turned around into the open rear. One Changeling was able to find the courage to fire off an RPG round at the LAVs as they passed, but it was a panicked shot, flying very high over the turret of the third vehicle and off into the sky to come down on some far off hillside.

Trapper team had followed the back line of the armor and assaulted the distracted enemy violently, clearing them in a fraction of the time it took for the first assault. All in all, fifteen Changeling soldiers were killed in the attack on the initial outposts for no American losses; luck had favored them heavily. The final, strung-out group of two small warehouses and shipping containers were unoccupied, and the marines took cover behind them to organize for the last attack.

“Hey! You guys all good!?” San called to the infantry, who could not hear him over the multiple engines until he dismounted to their level. “I asked if all you guys were good!”

“Yeah thanks for the support devil! All my guys are up!” Trapper team’s leader informed him with appreciation. “Main objective’s just past here, over all that open ground. Objective Lima, that little town.”

“Town? I was just told it was some bigger complex than the others.”

“Just different words for it, it’s the same shit. Going to be a long, drawn-out fight. You got any supplies in the back there? Ammo, water, all that?”

“Yeah, yeah, there’s a little left in the back of number Four, that last one back there. If you want we got some heavier shit in Three we’re still holding on to after we bailed out Weapons Company; a Javelin and a couple sniper rifles.”

“Nah just the basic shit, we need to keep it light for now. Hey Jamey! Get your team to grab all the supplies out of that LAV over there and bring them over here so we can divy it up!” Trapper’s leader ordered before turning back to Diego. “But yeah, locals said it used to be some mining town, not a town really, it’s all just industrial and administrative buildings, no housing or luxury, just a center for the workers who lived in Las Pegasus.”

The group of marine infantry gathered around their leader and Diego a short ways from the LAVs so as to discuss the plan of attack. The men divided the fresh rounds among themselves, none acting too selfish over what he got, along with water, CLP, and other miscellaneous necessities. After a quick SITREP to higher command, the plan was laid out.

“We know there’s a lot more Bugs in that town, maybe a platoon’s worth with heavy weapons, not sure what else. Now I’d like the LAVs to escort us in but you guys are going to be sitting ducks in those open fields to any AT, and if we lose you guys we’re screwed. Good news is that we’ll have a mortar barrage hit the front of town just before we step off, and we have a Cobra flight that’ll do a pass for us too. Combine all that with the LAVs laying down suppression fire again and we should be able to get into town.”

“We can do that, I’ll spread the guys out to cover the whole front,” San assured him.

“He also said Marine and Navy Hornets are overhead somewhere, running strikes against enemies far out to the north of Objective Lima so they might help us if they can. Fireteams Alpha and Bravo with me up the middle along the road, Charlie swing wide left and hit the corner of town. Oorah? LT once your guys are in place I’ll call it in and we’ll step off. We’ll call you in once we’ve cleared the town.”

“Oorah, I’ll get to it.”

Diego returned to the LAV and passed on his order, with the platoon spreading itself out thin to cover the front of the town. Its large, garish, shot-up concrete work buildings lay ahead on a notable rise, with the sun shining overhead giving it a red-gray look in the dust. It was an intimidating attack, though as the LAVs were sitting in the open they did not come under fire; it seemed the Changelings did not have ATGMs, or anything bigger than an RPG, which set the crewmen at ease.

The crews began to see scattered puffs along the front of the town, explosions, mortar fire. Diego gave the order to open fire on the front, with his gunner picking out a two-story fabrication building for the 25mm gun to rake over. The infantry began to advance along the planned axis; they had forgotten to inform Diego but it was not a major issue, and the LAV gunners were trained enough not to shoot their own in the back of the head. Return fire was minimal, with only potshots from the Changelings who could stick their head out for a second.

Trapper was halfway there, Diego kept the main group in his sight. Two helicopters flew in from behind them, close enough to rattle the LAVs, AH-1s. The Cobras slowed and made a single pass over the complex running east-to-west, firing their guns almost non-stop and earning a fair amount of return fire from small arms. As they banked out and moved away to the southeast, the second Cobra suddenly exploded, coming apart in a quick fireball.

“Shit one of the Cobras got hit by something!” Diego yelled.

“I think I saw a launch, they might have MANPADS in there,” Roycewicz noted.

It was then that he noticed another voice on the radio calling him, and he fumbled with it to answer.

“Alta I said do you hear me!? It’s Trapper!”

“Alta, go!”

“Tell your guys to hold their fire! We’re trying to get into Objective Lima!”

“Copy that, Alta out! Gunner! Hold fire, hold!” he ordered his own crew before moving to the others. “All Alta victors cease fire! Hold, hold your fire! I say again, Alta Four-One here, everyone hold fire! Let the infantry move in!”

The overwhelming sound of battle calmed into an echo of the gunfire in town, with the LAVs holding where they were. Time ticked by, minute by minute, the on-edge crewmen agonizing over having to wait. There was no word from town, only the sounds of small arms fire faintly heard over the sound of the engines.

“Alta Four Actual, Highlander,” the battalion commander called, causing the crew to jump from surprise.

“Aw shit, Highlander? That can’t be good,” San groaned to himself as he grabbed the radio. “Alta Four Actual here.”

“Alta, we wanted to inform you that a group of Marine Hornets will be operating overhead. If you need to contact them check alternate channel romeo, their callsign is ‘Moon’. Highlander out.”

“Hah, looks like it is good news for once,” Diego chirped as he played with the radio. “Uh, Moon? This is Alta. You copy, over?”

“I hear you clear Alta. Glad we could finally make contact. We got a few flights decked out for air-to-ground do strikes in your area. Callsigns are Moon and Check. Just want to be sure we don’t hit you guys,” the pilot explained.

“Two callsigns?”

“Flights from two squadrons. But keep us in mind if you need help, and keep us updated on the situation. We’ve already talked with Trapper.”

“Copy that Moon, thanks, Alta out.”

The fighting in town continued, but how it was going was unknown to the LAV crew. Twenty minutes had passed and not a word from Trapper. In some sense the gunfire was a good thing, as it signified that the Marines were still alive. The men were abruptly treated to the sight of a large explosion inside the complex, throwing dirt and rubble high into the air.

“The fuck was that!?” San yelled.

“Missile, missile from the sky, I saw the smoke trail,” his gunner calmed him, looking out the turret. “Came from behind us, was one of ours. Must have been those Hornets.”

“Shit I hope so!”

The men continued to hold in anxiety until Trapper finally called them.

“Alta Four, Trapper! Are you there!? Over?”

“Four Actual reading! Go!”

“Alta the Bugs have pushed us back and we’re pinned in a three-story living quarters on the southeast corner of town! It’s right along the main road! I need you guys to get in here and clear the bad guys out from around us! Can you do that!?”

“WILCO Trapper hold on! All Alta units, get into column along the road, prepare to enhance enemy at close quarters!”

The platoon of LAVs lined up, one behind the other with good space between them, and started down to road at a moderate speed. This was the type of situation that made the crews jumpy; the LAV was not designed for high-intensity, extended combat in tight urban areas like a tank. Still, they were the only ones available that could help. The enemy’s capture of this town meant there would be a hole in the already thin USMC line around Las Pegasus, which was unacceptable.

Diego’s LAV lead the way into the complex, slowing further, on the lookout for movement. The buildings were dismal concrete, gray and blackened and damaged by the constant fighting. After a shallow turn their view was filled with a slightly open lot ahead of the living quarters, and numerous Changeling infantry scattered about.

“There! Gunner footmobiles-”

“On them!” Chaffin shouted, firing the coax.

“Driver pull off left here and halt! All Alta victors spread out and engage!”

“Alta we see you, we’re hold up in the building to your right!” Trapper called him.

“Yeah we see you just hang on!”

“More tangos in the building! Switch to cannon!” Diego yelled, more to himself out of habit than the command process. “Come on you bastards!”

A few smoke rounds from mortars fell in the area, having been called for earlier to cover the Changeling infantry in a final assault on the Marine riflemen, now wasted with the appearance of the LAVs. Some switched to their thermals and continued firing, but by now the Changelings were pulling back. The firing ceased for a time as the gunners lost their targets, leaving a short lull in the battle.

“Alta… Trapper here. Thanks for bailing us out. How are you guys doing on ammo and gas? We still need to take this place over.”

“Should still be a little over half of both. How are your guys?”

“We’re ok, the wounded guys are going to get taken care of but we need to keep fighting.”

“You had a plan of attack in mind, Trapper?”

“Two of your victors are going to go with one of my fire teams down the road to the left, winds through town. Clear out any resistance. Rest of us will continue down this main road, do the same. We’ll all meet up on the outskirts. Sound good?”

“WILCO, we’ll get going. Out.”

All of the men were already tired from the battle, but it only made them react more bluntly. For the Marines, the battle would end whenever it ended, and that would be until they had won. Diego’s LAV and his number two began the advance cautiously down the left street, moving very slowly with their infantry escort.

Incredibly, the vehicles’ appearance in town seemed to have routed most of the Changelings out of town, leaving only scattered teams in various buildings rather than a concentrated defense. A fire team four-story rectangular factory in an open area shot at the Marines, but a heavy reply from the Bushmasters killed them quickly. A two-story red brick building gave them a greater scare, being at a turn in the ride and at a poor firing angle for moving down the street, and as soon as the LAVs passed the previous building the infantry opened up with a withering, heavy barrage of automatic fire and rifle grenades. The angle meant that the LAV could only hit the building’s wall at a glance, fortunately the infantry team swung around through an alley and cleared the building with a liberal use of grenades before entering.

The LAVs had been lucky, an anti-tank shot at such close range would have been devastating, but the Changelings had none. The final point of resistance after the turn in the road was a collection of Changelings outside of a ruined metallurgy compound, looking more wounded and distressed, but still opting to fire on the Marines before a few brief bursts from the vehicle’s machine guns silenced them. The team arrived at the final line of buildings on the northern face of the compound, already occupied by the other half of the Marine forces after driving out the stragglers left there.

“Alright, that’s it right?” Chaffin sighed, relieving the stress.

“Fight’s not done yet Chaff,” Roycewicz answered.

“No, I mean the hard part’s done. Town’s ours man!”

“Yeah, that’s one way of looking at it!”

“Highlander, Alta Four Actual. Objective Lima secured!” Diego reported triumphantly.

“Good work Alta. Are you continuing with the mission plan?”

“Yes Sir, defend it from any hostile counter-attacks. You probably see some coming from over there huh?”

“Affirmative and it looks serious. Lots of infantry supported by IFVs. Don’t worry I’ll direct artillery and air against them, we’ll relieve you soon. Highlander out!”

“Alta Four-One, all Alta Victors find yourself a good firing position in cover and be ready to defend the town, out!”

Diego exited his vehicle again to confer with Trapper team’s leader again as the infantry and vehicles found defensive positions among the buildings.

“Hey, how are your guys looking? Any casualties?” he asked.

“No new ones since you bailed us out back there. Real low on ammo though. Could use some water too.”

“Your guys can scavenge whatever we’ve got lying around. You heard we got more bad guys on the way right?”

“Yeah not here yet though. They’re too chicken to face the green weenie,” the rifleman laughed. “We’re going to unload that extra shit you guys kept from Weapons Company too. Couple of my guys used to be in W.C. before getting transferred, they’ll know how to use it. We’ll stick with you guys in the buildings, no backing up into town. We need to hold the line here, I think.”

“Agreed, just keep on the comms in case something happens.”

The area to the north was similar to the rest around it, a long, low, dusty red flatland that ran below the complex before hitting a shallow, long rise in the distance. The Marines watched over this area for any movement, knowing the enemy was coming. Scattered harassment artillery fell randomly and sporadically far off. 

“Alta, this is Moon. You still there, over?”

“Affirmative Moon, reading you.”

“We see a lot of bugs moving your way. Dust is getting kicked up too. We’re hitting them as we can out here but you can call us if you need.”

“We don’t have a FAC.”

“Just use visual reference; won’t be as accurate but it’ll help.”

“Contact, foot mobiles, coming over the slope ahead! At least twenty spread out!” Chaffin shouted.

“Gunner engage at will!”

“Firing!”

Fire from the LAVs picked away at the timidly advancing Changeling infantry, but as more came up they inched forward and the battle roared to life again. Marine infantry with a sniper rifle added their fire, the Hornets dropped some of their bombs at more clearly defined targets in the rear, smoke shells from the Changeling mortars again burst ahead of the marine line, followed by high-explosive rounds falling on top of it.

“Ah fuck! San we’re out of HE for the cannon! Almost dry on the coax too!”

“Use AP, don’t save it!” he ordered his harried gunner. “Moon, Alta! I see another group of infantry moving over the slope! Can you hit them, over!?”

“Alta we can’t make out a slope from up here, can you be more specific?”

“There’s not a lot of stuff out here for reference man it’s all flat!”

“Guesstimate the distance, we’ll eyeball it and make it work!”

“It’s about… fuck I can’t tell… around five-hundred meters away?”

“Copy that, Moons Three and Four set up some runs and hit that area!”

After a short break to set up a good bomb run, the two Hornets dove in and released their two iron bombs. Working with a targeting mix of an inaccurate guess on the ground and the natural inaccuracies of fast-moving in the air had predictable results. The bombs landed well ahead of the Changelings, killing only a couple, but badly rattling the rest and breaking up the attack for a moment.

“This is Check Three, I got a visual on what looks like a big mortar battery. Going to line up for a gun run,” another Hornet announced as the planes began to act of their own initiative.

The attack continued in this manner, with the F-18s attacking with dead reckoning aim, and some strikes being more effective than others. Flying as low and slow as they did drew a fair amount of ground fire, and two were hit by the small arms and cannons and had to retreat. It was still enough to take attention away from the Marine ground force as the attack gradually lost steam.

The battle stretched out. A couple of Changeling AFVs were hit by missiles from the infantry, three more stopped by the LAVs. Their infantry were cut down from lucky rounds and Marine snipers, the distance still closed slowly. One LAV was bracketed by mortars, without injury to the crew but with enough damage to disable it; another was disabled by a Changeling with an anti-tank rifle and a few rounds from a BMP. 

The Changeling infantry moved in closer than the Marines liked, but not much beyond. The battle seemed to, uncharacteristically, come to a quick end. The Changelings began to turn around, seemingly at once, and retreated. The firing halted after another minute, and though the anxious Marines kept eyeing the horizon for targets, fingers gingerly lying on the triggers, nothing more came. The enemy hald called off their attack, and if it was for reorganization for a better planned one in the future, for whatever reason, it never came. 

Command informed the Marines they had done well, and that a relief force was coming. Another two Marines had been killed in the defense, one rifleman, one of the LAV crew drivers; for the amount of enemy they faced it was a surprisingly low number. Later in the evening, as the sun set over the battlefield, Diego broke an uneasy silence among his crew as they drove away from the town and back towards Las Pegasus proper.

“That’s going to be it for us.”

“Huh?” Chaffin moaned through his exhaustion.

“I think we’re going to be getting on the boat in a few hours. I think we’re done here.”

“Ah man, go through all that just to leave and give up that ground to the bad guys… again.”

“We stay here then we’ll be fighting to hold our own graves,” Roycewicz mentioned.

“I know.”

“We’ll be back,” Diego said tiredly. “Once we get our shit together, we’ll be back.”







As the battle of the ground wore down, the time had come to evacuate the rest of the marine division before any other breakthroughs could occur. The hope was to complete most of it over the evening, through the night, and be ready to board the rearguard skirmishers by early morning. To accomplish this, the transport fleet and docks had to be totally undisturbed, and as such the Carrier Action Group covering them struck out to the east to extend the defense zone and distract them.

Already the Bloc bomber units were converging to pick away at CAG centered around the John C. Stennis, recently arrived to cover for the lost Carl Vinson, in hopes of hitting her or getting a lucky shot at the evacuation fleet. A large number of carriers from Pearl Harbor made a sortie far south, nothing more than a show to draw away attention. Still, one carrier group left to defend the fleet could barely be considered enough. It was still just one emergency of several across the theater, and as such the local forces in the region could only send what little was available to help, which was not much.

The 1st TFS sent a wing of its planes to help, led by their squadron commander. Cole, as an Air Force pilot, already had the experience of defending a Navy carrier from attack. Working with them, or under them in this case, would be nothing new. The F-15s were now set to help provide air cover for the main portion of the evacuation, arriving from the east to rendezvous with the carrier’s air wing.

“Eagle Flight, Lead. Feet wet and clear water below us. Jettison your external tanks at your leisure,” Cole ordered as the group approached the CAG. “Ok final check before battle. Sound off.”

“Two on your wing One,” Runner acknowledged.

“Alpha Flight Lead is good, Alpha Flight check in.”

“Two Good.”

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Five.”

“Java, how’re you settling in with the Alpha boys?” Cole asked the number Four in the flight.

“Good enough, I think. A little hard to keep up with how fast they go but I’ll be fine,” the newer member responded through a clean Dutch accent.

“Orion you keep an eye on Java, you got that? That’s why you’re number five,” Firebird reminded his subordinate. 

“Good, you’re keeping an eye on your flight now Desser. Improvement,” Cole mentally congratulated the team lead. 

“Yeah I know, I’ll keep his tail clear,” Orion promised. “No stargazing.”

“Sun King Two, Eagle, radio check. How copy, over?” Cole rambled as he attempted to contact the carrier’s AWACS.

“Sun King, good copy Eagle. We’ve got you on our scope. Thank you guys for flying over.”

“Yeah we heard you guys had your hands full. Long flight but we’ve got enough fuel for a couple hours of playtime. Can you give us a picture?”

“The CAG is trying to press out to the to the west to draw attention away from the evac fleet. Now we’ve got tons of hostiles sniping at us from all around. Carrier planes, long-range bombers, the works. Since we’re trying to cover the fleet we can only really focus on parrying off these attacks.”

“You want us to go hunt after some of those bandits while you guys get a strike package together?”

“Well that’s the problem, we’ve got an enemy SAG centered around a battleship with a cruiser and two destroyers bearing down on us fast. Usually that wouldn’t be a problem but they’ve got bomber units coming and we don’t have enough fighters to form a strike package. Our ship’s missile reserves are getting burnt up fast too.”

“Bad guys are pressing in hard huh?”

“You bet. We’re gathering one of our Hornet squadrons together to try and hit them, drive them back. But between that and the attacks and covering the transports we’re at a deficit of top cover. Right now I just need you guys to cover an outer sector from air attacks, from the coast down to Point Quake on your map; we’ve got a destroyer out there on picket to help. How copy?”

“Copy that Sun King. Tell us how you want us to spread out.”

“You know your boys better. Cover the area however you see fit.”

“Ok here’s how we’ll do it. Me and Runner will keep an eye on the low road, deal with anything up to around angels 5, maybe 8. Everything above that is in your court Alpha Flight.”

The flight of F-15s broke up, roaring out to their assigned areas. From the rolling tops of the waves, up fifty-thousand feet, the seven fighters were tasked with guarding everything in between and out for miles. Even for the F-15C, this was a tall order in a scenario with as many hostiles as this, and would be near impossible without the carrier’s AWACS to direct them.

“Eagle, Sun King, bandits, low and fast, they’re in the weeds at eighteen-hundred, may be Buckshots, can you intercept?”

“Buckshots?” Cole asked, having not heard that codename in some time.

“They’re like Il-40 Brawnys, heavily modified for carriers, they can carry torpedoes.”

“I can’t believe we have to deal with torpedo planes in 2006,” Runner complained. 

“Eagle Lead, this is the U.S.S. Laboon , any that get into SM-2 range and we can pick those flies off like nothing.”

“Laboon that’s not good idea.”

“What? What do you mean? We can outrange them-”

“Those guys aren’t stupid they know that. From what I’ve seen the bad guys don’t run torpedo packets like this without some jammer craft with them to cover.”

“We’re not picking up any ECM from that group. They haven’t activated it yet?”

“Don’t want to draw attention yet.”

“Copy that, we’re just deploying with the rest of the CAG. Briefing didn’t seem to catch little tricks like that. Got any other advice to pass on?”

“Yeah, they do a pretty good job of coordinating their attacks from multiple angles. Missiles, torps, bombs, all from various approaches at the same time. Can overwhelm a single ship pretty badly. Usually the missiles they shoot are distractions; even if they don’t get lucky it serves to draw attention away and burn through your missile reserves. Torpedo and bomber planes move in either under cover of that, or when your cells are empty.”

“Yeah we caught wind of that part, thanks for the refresher. We’ll keep in contact Eagle, out.”

The two hunting Eagles closed on their targets, trying to pick them out below them against the Pacific waters. As they did so there was a static that began to fill their headsets, growing stronger as they moved in closer. It was the clear effect of a jamming aircraft imbedded in the formation.

“Buzzers!” Cole yelled as ECM began to flood the system. “Runner stick close we’re pressing in!”

“Getting- lot of music-”

“Runner! Eagle Two, chattermark!” Cole yelled, giving the order to switch frequencies. “Runner! You copy!? Damn it!”

Cole checked in his mirrors, his wingman was still behind him, watching his six at a distance, following him into a dive. He would stay glued to his lead regardless of the comm loss, good training and individual loyalty to his friend ensured that. Cole turned his focus back forward, scanning the churning waves. It was difficult to pick out the keys flying so low, but he did eventually hear his radar lock on to one of the targets from range.

“Fox three!”

Seconds after the missile launched, the concealment was broken. Several little dots below swerved up and around, many of them dropping countermeasures. The missile missed its target, distracted by chaff and exploding in the ocean, but it was enough to give him a sight.

“Tally ho! Bandits! Really far dispersion too! Anyone read!? Shit! Alright, find the jammer. Got to get close.”

Cole dove into the swirling mass while above, his subordinates were busy with their own mission. Smaller Bloc fighters were still taking pot shots at the CAG and burning up missile reserves. At this rate a saturation attack by the bombers would likely overwhelm the remaining defenses.

“Eagle Alpha, we’ve lost contact with Eagles One and Two, jamming interference with the radios,” Sun King reported.

“Nothing they haven’t dealt with. You got a target for us? We’re on station and our radar’s tracking a few contacts far out ahead of us,” Firebird asked.

“Small guys we can’t afford to worry about; ships can handle them. We’re looking for- shit speak of the Devil! Heavy group, angels twenty!”

“Declare! Declare!” Alpha’s lead interrupted.

“Ten contacts, bandits, angels twenty, bearing two-seven-seven, three-hundred-twenty mikes from you! Six are definitely bombers! Blinders! Rest are smaller, maybe escort! Eagle Alpha turn right to heading two-seven-seven and engage! Warning red, weapons free, no friendlies in the area!”

The first three Eagles of the flight pushed ahead, leaving the other two behind for security. There was still some distance between between the bombers and the maximum launch range for their missiles, but going supersonic could cover that distance fairly quickly. The pressure of time was always weighing on the pilots in these engagements.

“In range, hard lock on one of the bandits! Firebird, fox three!”

“Missiles inbound got radar warning!” Spark, his immediate wingman, yelled a second after his commander’s shot.

“Alpha defensive! Go defensive!”

All three dove, releasing countermeasure chaff together in a large cloud that was able to distract the two missiles from the bomber escorts. The AMRAAM closed in on one of the Blinders and exploded close in, damaging it enough to convince it to turn around. The three F-15s then turned back towards the bombers and climbed, each getting a lock and firing another missile a piece for two kills on the escorting fighters. The remaining three MiG-29s moved in to engage more closely to eat up time, with Firebird and Spark engaging them while the third, Parrot, was sent after the bombers.

“Should we go help?” Java asked as their flightmates fought far off.

“Not unless Desser says so. Don’t worry they can handle it,” Orion assured him. “We need to watch for anything else. Don’t want to let anything through. Navy has enough to worry about with the enemy SAG.”

“I don’t understand, can’t they just retreat away from the enemy ships?” Java asked as they watched their

“They can’t retreat, the whole point is to draw attention away from the transports. They fall back they’ll lead the Bugs right to them,” Orion reminded his wingman. “They’ve got to advance.”

“They’re trying to shove the Navy into a corner.”

“Eagles Six and Seven, Alpha? Orion you copy?” Sun King called in.

“Affirmative what’ve you got?”

“Leakers, two of them. Angels eight bearing three-three-zero, twenty miles from you, fast! I think they’re gunning for us! Intercept, how copy!?”

“Good copy and WILCO Sun King,” Orion confirmed. “You hear that Java? Reference bandits three-three-zero. Two-on-two, let’s take ‘em!”

The rest of Alpha Flight was seeing great success so far. Parrot had hit two of the other bombers, one of them a hard kill with his AMRAAM. The last escort had held back and attempted to engage him afterwards, but only succeeded in luring him away for a short time before the Eagle pilot tricked him into following up too high and stalling out, giving him a shot with his Sidewinder.

Firebird and Spark had a more difficult time, fighting a three-on-two engagement, having to remain defensive the entire time and attempting to watch each-other’s tails. Eventually they were able to form into an impromptu, long-range weave that gave Spark a snapshot with his Sidewinder on one MiG, sending it down in fire. They continued the stalemate with the remaining two, though as the bombers closed with them Firebird was able to take a precious few seconds of free time to lock and fire his last AMRAAM at one of them, hitting it in the fuselage and taking it apart.

The final Blinder was able to fire off its missiles and make its escape, with the remaining MiG escorts diving to disengage as well. The two ASMs closed quickly, but without any others at the time the escort ships were able to pick them out easily. Both were easily shot down with a missile a piece by the Laboon, though it left her with only eight SM-2s remaining. With the two leakers dealt with easily at BVR, Alpha Flight was now regrouping after their successful engagements, preparing to go over weapon and fuel states before one of them found another radar contact.

“Another heavy group on radar, to the south!” Spark announced.

“Weapons hold Eagles! Chicks transiting south back, weapons tight!” Sun King ordered. “Pirate, what luck?”

“May have gotten a couple of hits on the SAG flagship, one more on a cruiser. None of them lethal, but they’re turning back now. Give us a picture for the fleet, over.”

“CAG out of formation due to airborne fish and a possible submarine, but none hit. O’Kane and Chancellorsville shot down ASMs close abroad and got damaged but nothing major. Missiles stocks low but not exhausted.” 

“Any chance we can get back on deck?” the lead of VFA-132 requested.

“Airspace is pretty cluttered right now, more than we thought it would be, recommend waiting until action has subsided Pirate.”

“Copy that Sun King, we still have plenty of fuel we’ll hold back for now.”

Down below, not far from the top of the waves, Cole was desperately trying to visually identify the bandits below him without getting too close. Not being in radio contact or having radar left him feeling vulnerable, but it was not anything that he had not dealt with before. Nor was he alone either; he checked the mirrors above him to check on Runner. He saw him chasing after another aircraft, farther back, another fighter by the looks of it.

“Good work man, nice work,” he thought to himself. “Shit I wouldn’t have seen him, Runner’s doing his job. Keep looking damn it! Pick him out! Which one doesn’t belong? Wait, what’s that? It’s not… is that a Fullback?”

Cole picked the odd one out and rolled into a comfortable position behind the enemy aircraft. He picked out one of his Sidewinders to kill the enemy, though the evasions and constant dropping of flares made this more difficult. Still he could maneuver better, and after getting a good lock at an excellent angle underneath after much turning, the Fullback took the AIM in the belly and went down.

“Runner! You hear me man!?” 

“Yeah I hear you lead! Just took down a fighter that was gunning for you. You ok?”

“Yeah I saw, thanks for watching my back! I’m good, killed that damn buzzer! Form back up on me and let’s pick these guys off!”

Without the radar interference, or the fighter to cover them, the attacking Buckshots suddenly found themselves in a dire position. Cole was only a few miles behind but in a perfect position at their six to attack, and quickly began to lock up and fire his radar-guided missiles. One Buckshot went down, and then another as the formation scattered to the winds, abandoning their attack; Runner picked off another for a total of three down. One final unfortunate unwittingly fled in the direction the nearby U.S.S. Laboon, which could not resist an opportunity and splashed him with an SM-2.

“There… alright… Eagle Lead to Sun King.”

“Eagle, Sun King.”

“Bandits splashed, didn’t catch how many but the hostiles are breaking off. How’s the rest of my squadron, over?”

“They’re all up, low on ammunition but all good. They’re finishing up with their intercepts now. We’re going to reform you all at bullseye romeo.”

“Any more tasking for us?”

“Negative, picture clear in our area. Enemy attack looks like it’s backing off all over. I think we’re in the clear now.”

The squadron finally reformed, far out from the range of the Carrier group. The ships themselves had been badly scattered by the attack, with the formation broken by some miles now, but the mission had been successful. The ships themselves had taken minimal or no damage, and the evacuation fleet had been defended well against the brunt of the enemy’s naval forces. 

“Eagles, all up?” Cole checked on his team. “I think we’ve done pretty good here, we’ll have to stop for gas or hit a tanker-”

“Warning all aircraft! All units in the area! We have a new contact!” Sun King yelled frantically. “Confirmed, ballistic missile incoming!”

The squadron’s discipline and order broke down into a panic.

“What!? From where!?”

“A ballistic missile! What’s it carrying!?” 

“From where! Where’s it hitting!” Cole yelled back! “Where’s it going to impact! Answer me damn it!”

“Fifteen seconds get away, towards land!”

“Eagles, head north, buster, go! You hear me!? Firewall it go! Sun King where!? Where’s it going!?”

“Five.. Four… Three… Two… One… Impact!”

The pilots caught the view in their mirrors with a mesmerized horror. The sudden telltale flash of a nuclear explosion was absent, but there was a light. A wall of something, energy perhaps, pure power, murky, incapable of being seen through with bare eyes. It looked akin to the surface of some water covered in a thick slick of oil did. It seemed to rush towards them, as if it were chasing them.

Cole’s heart rushed, his afterburners were already going, burning through what fuel was left, there was nothing else in his mind now, only transfixed on the approaching horror. If the others were talking on the radio his mind blocked them out. Then, the wave stopped, and seemed to hover there as the planes flew on, before dissipating.

“What the fuck was that!?” Desser shouted.

“Sun King you still there!? It’s Eagle Lead, what happened!?”

“The carrier, she’s hit! She’s listing! Oh my God she’s tipping over!”

“They hit the carrier dead on with a ballistic missile?” Runner worried.

“N-no, they missed, it was a few miles off but… Stennis was the closest! Oh Jesus she’s turning over! Any allied vessels please respond we need SAR helicopters up now! We have men in the water, they’re spilling off the deck, we need help!”

“Laboon here, anyone still up respond! The carrier’s over- which destroyer is that!? Is that the Blackwell!? She’s lying on her side, something just knocked her over! O’Kane’s listing, helm put course to her we can right her if we get there in time!”

“This is Chancellorsville, we’re listing badly but not enough to sink, need to flood some compartments for balance but we’ll make it. Get your helicopters in the air for SAR, we’ve got… Christ there’s hundreds of men in the water!”

“Sun King to all surviving aircraft, our… homeplate is gone! Tally, looks like some aircraft from each squadron survived at least, all aircraft make for the Las Pegasus airport immediately! Get refueled and… don’t wait for orders, RTB to safer allied air base, Hell fly all the way to Hawaii if you have to!”

“I knew none of the countries in the Bloc have nuclear weapons… I mean the Chinese do,” Cole began to collect his thoughts. “That wasn’t a nuke, it couldn’t be.”

“Christ, is this what their magic can do? I didn’t know it was this powerful, we were told it wasn’t this powerful,” Orion spoke up finally. 

“No, that… couldn’t be human made. Was that what magic was like back on their world? Has to be. I don’t think we can do anything else here guys, we’re low on fuel and weapons as is. We need to report this.”

“Back to our base, going back north? Yeah we need to warn everyone, real damn quick!” Runner acknowledged.

“Not what I meant; the brass will get word of this, the warnings will go out easy. We need to get back in touch with our pony friends, this is their stuff we’re dealing with. We’ll need to gas up first though but… shit, who’s got the most fuel? I need someone to fly ahead.”