FourtyTwoStatus
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10 yrs ago
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acquire raifu, defend waifu
10 yrs ago
Nothing quite like schizophrenic weather.
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10 yrs ago
At this point I don't even care where I end up. I just want to do something productive, bloody hell.
10 yrs ago
I still remember four...
10 yrs ago
Standing by to stand by, cap'n!
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Go ahead! I look forward to seeing what you come up with. ^^
What would the technology of the setting be like?
I didn't see a Nisi bay on the map, but what's north of Tempest is Nial bay. I have Mischief's squad moving to the north of Nial under the assumption that Nisi bay is one the water bodies to the north of Nial.
Huscarl may have been confident of taking control of the situation, but Mischief was not, despite not showing it on his face. He remained silent as Huscarl exerted his authority over this Staff Sergeant Patterson and started to get things sorted out. Despite Patterson's acquiescence, Mischief still felt somewhat uneasy about having to lead a group of people who at the very least did not respect him, or even resented his presence. There was reason for them to believe the Hephaestus had brought this upon NATO forces; they had been the ones kicking up a ruckus among CSAT forces. Still, if Huscarl needed him to lead a squad, Mischief was going to do his best to shape his squad into a well-oiled machine.
That was how, a few minutes later, Mischief found himself standing near the north exit of the camp along with six tough-looking and very displeased soldiers. They were primarily British and Americans from the looks of it. "I would say 'good evening', but it is quite clear that this night is starting out horrendously." Mischief quipped, hoping to ease the tense atmosphere. Much to his pleasure, he got a few snickers and chuckles from the men, though most of them still looked at him as if he were the enemy. With a sigh, Mischief decided to just put everything on the table. "I am Staff Sergeant Zdislav Cermak, formerly of the Czech 601st. I understand that you do not like the idea of serving under someone who only just appeared, and I understand. However, we will need to work together if we want to survive this." He said and paused, looking at each of the men in turn to make sure they were paying attention. "I will listen to any of your suggestions and consider them equally, but my word will be final, can you give me that?"
There was a brief spate of murmurs among the soldiers, but at last, one of them nodded. "We can do that, Staff Sergeant." He said, his voice thick with an Irish accent, and extended a hand. "Sergeant Elias O'Connor. I'll be your second-in-command, I s'pose. No one else here's a sergeant, last I checked." He pointed to each of the soldiers as he introduced them. "With me are Corporal Recker, Lance Corporal Jennings, Lance Corporal Anders, Private Kelly and Private Sanderson."
Mischief shook the man's hand and gave a nod of acknowledgement to each of the soldiers. "Good to have you, Sergeant." He said. "Now, we have a job to do. Huscarl wants us to head north to look for enemy positions along Nisi bay." He looked over the men again, sizing them up and examining their equipment to get a rough gauge as to where their skills laid. Jennings appeared to be a grenadier, as evidenced by the forty millimeter launcher slung under her rifle; Kelly was the support gunner, armed with her heavily modified MX LMG; Anders seemed to be a marksman, though Mischief was quick to notice that he was using what was basically an MX with a longer barrel and a scope. The rest were armed with assault rifles, and were probably good all-rounders.
"O'Connor, you will be with Sanderson. I want the two of you to be our marksman team, callsign Alpha-1. Kelly, you're with Anders. You are our LMG team, callsign Alpha-2. The rest of you will be with me. We will be Alpha-Lead and we will be the assault element of the squad. Everyone okay with this arrangement?" Mischief said, taking care to ensure that he received any concerns his squad had about the arrangement. Thankfully, they all shook their heads. "Good." Mischief said. "We move out now. Once we are a hundred meters away from the exit, keep a five to ten meter spread. Alpha-Lead will be in the center. Alpha-1, you are on our left. Alpha-2, you will guard our right."
His plan was simple, straightforward, but would easily catch unprepared enemies off guard. Alpha-2 would pin down the enemy's left with machine gun fire while Alpha-1 would pick off targets of opportunity on the enemy's right. Mischief's plan was to force the enemy to believe that he was going for the oldest trick in the book, a flanking attack, and convince the enemy to strip their center to reinforce the flanks. Once that happened, Alpha-Lead would punch the enemy right in the weakened center, break through and attack the weaker flank to crush it before regrouping and eliminating the other flank.
Of course, that was if everything went according to plan, and perhaps the first rule of warfare was that nothing would ever go according to plan. Mischief would have to improvise in the field, but that was nothing new to him. The team moved in formation once they were roughly a hundred meters away from the camp's exit. "Maintain formation, move carefully and report if you see or hear anything suspicious." Mischief said quietly over the comms.
"Will do, Staff Sergeant." came O'Connors reply.
"Understood, Staff." Was Kelly's response.
The area was not, in Mischief's opinion, conducive for his mission. There was very little cover; bushes and trees were sparse, the ground was rather flat and uniform, with only the odd depression or hill here and there. "Staff Sarge, I ain't likin' this terrain too much," Recker commented off the comms. "Can't help but feel as if we're just bein' sniper food out here."
"I understand," Mischief replied with a grimace. "But it is the same all the way unless we turn and head far inland." While that - moving inland for better cover and advancing towards the bay from there - may have been a safer idea, it would bring them way out of the area they were supposed to scout. It would be highly likely that they would miss any enemy troops moving in from the north. "We cannot do that, not without making Tempest blind to its north. The best we can do is to move fast and reach the trees to the north of Nial Bay."
"I know, Staff Sarge." Recker replied. "But I'm just voicin' my concerns, is all."
"And they have been noted," Mischief replied with a nod. Over the comms, he said, "Alpha-lead to Alpha-1, I want you to stop and scan for enemies in the distance at your own discretion. Warn us if you even think you see someone moving, over."
"Alpha-1 copies. We're moving up...Ten meters ahead of Alpha-2 to set up overwatch, over." Came O'Connor's reply.
"Alpha-lead copies. Out." Mischief said. "Alpha-lead to Alpha-2, we will keep a low profile but continue to advance until Alpha-1 spots an enemy, over."
"Alpha-2 received and understood." Kelly replied. "What if we run into an enemy en route, sarge? Is this a sneak-and-hide job or are we cleared to go loud? Over."
Mischief scolded himself for not clarifying the rules of engagement before leaving the camp, but was thankful that he had a chance to correct his mistake before they ran into any enemy forces. "Go loud only if you are unable to find a way around. Remember, everyone, we are here to scout the enemy positions and report any buildup in the area, not to clear out the AAF on our own." He replied.
"We could give it try, Staff." Kelly said with a short chuckle.
Mischief grinned to no one in particular. "It would be brave, but futile. Keep to the mission, Alpha-2. Out." Mischief said. He moved at a brisk walk across the open terrain, scanning the area around him as he did so, but taking care to keep the closing treeline ahead of him in mind. Once they were there, they could continue to push up to the area around Stratis Air Base, just to the north of the bay they were supposed to scout. It was tense and nerve-racking, but it appeared as if the AAF were completely absent from the bay. Perhaps they were still at the airbase, consolidating their forces for one massive assault on Tempest.
"Break-Break! Enemy scout patrol spotted approaching from the treeline" O'Connor reported in a frantic whisper over the comms.
"Everybody on the ground!" Mischief ordered and dropped to a prone position, his rifle aimed to his front. "Alpha-1, do you have numbers?"
"Five...No, six men. Five assault rifles, one machine gun. They don't seem to have noticed us, over."
Mischief grimaced. It was not going to be long before the AAF patrol spotted his squad, and they did not seem to be going away anytime soon. In fact, they seemed to be confidently advancing. "Recker, Jennings, on my flanks." Mischief whispered behind him. He soon heard the rustling sound of bodies moving against grass as the two soldiers crawled into position beside him. "Jennings, try not to use the launcher for now. We will use our silenced weapons." Mischief ordered.
"Aye, understood, Sergeant." Jennings replied.
"Alpha-2 to Alpha-lead. Enemy patrol is just a dozen meters away from my position, do I have permission to fire?" Kelly asked.
"Hold, Alpha-2." Mischief replied. "Alpha-1, do you have a bead on their gunner?"
"Already do, Staff Sergeant. Waiting for your go."
"Good," Mischief said. "Alpha-1, you are the trigger. Fire when ready."
There was a brief and tense moment of silence before the muted gunshot rang out in the dead silence of the night. It was quickly followed by the familiar sound of a high-velocity bullet striking a person and the surprised shouts and yells of the AAF soldiers. "Alpha-lead, hit them!" Mischief shouted and got up into a kneeling position. He opened fire with his rifle just as Alpha-2 struck the enemy with devastating enfilading fire. The enemy did not even have time to respond with bullets of their own before they were all cut down by the overwhelming firepower from Mischief's squad. It was a minor victory, but a victory nonetheless. "Good work, everyone." Mischief said. "Regroup at the treeline."
He gestured for Recker and Jennings to follow him as he rushed for the trees, taking to a knee once he reached them. Once his squad had regrouped, he spoke. "Okay, that was very nice, but I will have to radio Tempest for further orders. If we move up, we might run into a larger enemy force." Mischief quickly keyed into the frequency used by camp Tempest. "Alpha squad to Tempest, Alpha squad to Tempest. We are at the trees north of Nial bay. Encountered, engaged and eliminated enemy scout patrol, do we continue north towards Stratis Air base? Over."
That was how, a few minutes later, Mischief found himself standing near the north exit of the camp along with six tough-looking and very displeased soldiers. They were primarily British and Americans from the looks of it. "I would say 'good evening', but it is quite clear that this night is starting out horrendously." Mischief quipped, hoping to ease the tense atmosphere. Much to his pleasure, he got a few snickers and chuckles from the men, though most of them still looked at him as if he were the enemy. With a sigh, Mischief decided to just put everything on the table. "I am Staff Sergeant Zdislav Cermak, formerly of the Czech 601st. I understand that you do not like the idea of serving under someone who only just appeared, and I understand. However, we will need to work together if we want to survive this." He said and paused, looking at each of the men in turn to make sure they were paying attention. "I will listen to any of your suggestions and consider them equally, but my word will be final, can you give me that?"
There was a brief spate of murmurs among the soldiers, but at last, one of them nodded. "We can do that, Staff Sergeant." He said, his voice thick with an Irish accent, and extended a hand. "Sergeant Elias O'Connor. I'll be your second-in-command, I s'pose. No one else here's a sergeant, last I checked." He pointed to each of the soldiers as he introduced them. "With me are Corporal Recker, Lance Corporal Jennings, Lance Corporal Anders, Private Kelly and Private Sanderson."
Mischief shook the man's hand and gave a nod of acknowledgement to each of the soldiers. "Good to have you, Sergeant." He said. "Now, we have a job to do. Huscarl wants us to head north to look for enemy positions along Nisi bay." He looked over the men again, sizing them up and examining their equipment to get a rough gauge as to where their skills laid. Jennings appeared to be a grenadier, as evidenced by the forty millimeter launcher slung under her rifle; Kelly was the support gunner, armed with her heavily modified MX LMG; Anders seemed to be a marksman, though Mischief was quick to notice that he was using what was basically an MX with a longer barrel and a scope. The rest were armed with assault rifles, and were probably good all-rounders.
"O'Connor, you will be with Sanderson. I want the two of you to be our marksman team, callsign Alpha-1. Kelly, you're with Anders. You are our LMG team, callsign Alpha-2. The rest of you will be with me. We will be Alpha-Lead and we will be the assault element of the squad. Everyone okay with this arrangement?" Mischief said, taking care to ensure that he received any concerns his squad had about the arrangement. Thankfully, they all shook their heads. "Good." Mischief said. "We move out now. Once we are a hundred meters away from the exit, keep a five to ten meter spread. Alpha-Lead will be in the center. Alpha-1, you are on our left. Alpha-2, you will guard our right."
His plan was simple, straightforward, but would easily catch unprepared enemies off guard. Alpha-2 would pin down the enemy's left with machine gun fire while Alpha-1 would pick off targets of opportunity on the enemy's right. Mischief's plan was to force the enemy to believe that he was going for the oldest trick in the book, a flanking attack, and convince the enemy to strip their center to reinforce the flanks. Once that happened, Alpha-Lead would punch the enemy right in the weakened center, break through and attack the weaker flank to crush it before regrouping and eliminating the other flank.
Of course, that was if everything went according to plan, and perhaps the first rule of warfare was that nothing would ever go according to plan. Mischief would have to improvise in the field, but that was nothing new to him. The team moved in formation once they were roughly a hundred meters away from the camp's exit. "Maintain formation, move carefully and report if you see or hear anything suspicious." Mischief said quietly over the comms.
"Will do, Staff Sergeant." came O'Connors reply.
"Understood, Staff." Was Kelly's response.
The area was not, in Mischief's opinion, conducive for his mission. There was very little cover; bushes and trees were sparse, the ground was rather flat and uniform, with only the odd depression or hill here and there. "Staff Sarge, I ain't likin' this terrain too much," Recker commented off the comms. "Can't help but feel as if we're just bein' sniper food out here."
"I understand," Mischief replied with a grimace. "But it is the same all the way unless we turn and head far inland." While that - moving inland for better cover and advancing towards the bay from there - may have been a safer idea, it would bring them way out of the area they were supposed to scout. It would be highly likely that they would miss any enemy troops moving in from the north. "We cannot do that, not without making Tempest blind to its north. The best we can do is to move fast and reach the trees to the north of Nial Bay."
"I know, Staff Sarge." Recker replied. "But I'm just voicin' my concerns, is all."
"And they have been noted," Mischief replied with a nod. Over the comms, he said, "Alpha-lead to Alpha-1, I want you to stop and scan for enemies in the distance at your own discretion. Warn us if you even think you see someone moving, over."
"Alpha-1 copies. We're moving up...Ten meters ahead of Alpha-2 to set up overwatch, over." Came O'Connor's reply.
"Alpha-lead copies. Out." Mischief said. "Alpha-lead to Alpha-2, we will keep a low profile but continue to advance until Alpha-1 spots an enemy, over."
"Alpha-2 received and understood." Kelly replied. "What if we run into an enemy en route, sarge? Is this a sneak-and-hide job or are we cleared to go loud? Over."
Mischief scolded himself for not clarifying the rules of engagement before leaving the camp, but was thankful that he had a chance to correct his mistake before they ran into any enemy forces. "Go loud only if you are unable to find a way around. Remember, everyone, we are here to scout the enemy positions and report any buildup in the area, not to clear out the AAF on our own." He replied.
"We could give it try, Staff." Kelly said with a short chuckle.
Mischief grinned to no one in particular. "It would be brave, but futile. Keep to the mission, Alpha-2. Out." Mischief said. He moved at a brisk walk across the open terrain, scanning the area around him as he did so, but taking care to keep the closing treeline ahead of him in mind. Once they were there, they could continue to push up to the area around Stratis Air Base, just to the north of the bay they were supposed to scout. It was tense and nerve-racking, but it appeared as if the AAF were completely absent from the bay. Perhaps they were still at the airbase, consolidating their forces for one massive assault on Tempest.
"Break-Break! Enemy scout patrol spotted approaching from the treeline" O'Connor reported in a frantic whisper over the comms.
"Everybody on the ground!" Mischief ordered and dropped to a prone position, his rifle aimed to his front. "Alpha-1, do you have numbers?"
"Five...No, six men. Five assault rifles, one machine gun. They don't seem to have noticed us, over."
Mischief grimaced. It was not going to be long before the AAF patrol spotted his squad, and they did not seem to be going away anytime soon. In fact, they seemed to be confidently advancing. "Recker, Jennings, on my flanks." Mischief whispered behind him. He soon heard the rustling sound of bodies moving against grass as the two soldiers crawled into position beside him. "Jennings, try not to use the launcher for now. We will use our silenced weapons." Mischief ordered.
"Aye, understood, Sergeant." Jennings replied.
"Alpha-2 to Alpha-lead. Enemy patrol is just a dozen meters away from my position, do I have permission to fire?" Kelly asked.
"Hold, Alpha-2." Mischief replied. "Alpha-1, do you have a bead on their gunner?"
"Already do, Staff Sergeant. Waiting for your go."
"Good," Mischief said. "Alpha-1, you are the trigger. Fire when ready."
There was a brief and tense moment of silence before the muted gunshot rang out in the dead silence of the night. It was quickly followed by the familiar sound of a high-velocity bullet striking a person and the surprised shouts and yells of the AAF soldiers. "Alpha-lead, hit them!" Mischief shouted and got up into a kneeling position. He opened fire with his rifle just as Alpha-2 struck the enemy with devastating enfilading fire. The enemy did not even have time to respond with bullets of their own before they were all cut down by the overwhelming firepower from Mischief's squad. It was a minor victory, but a victory nonetheless. "Good work, everyone." Mischief said. "Regroup at the treeline."
He gestured for Recker and Jennings to follow him as he rushed for the trees, taking to a knee once he reached them. Once his squad had regrouped, he spoke. "Okay, that was very nice, but I will have to radio Tempest for further orders. If we move up, we might run into a larger enemy force." Mischief quickly keyed into the frequency used by camp Tempest. "Alpha squad to Tempest, Alpha squad to Tempest. We are at the trees north of Nial bay. Encountered, engaged and eliminated enemy scout patrol, do we continue north towards Stratis Air base? Over."
I know a bit of renaissance history, so I might be able to help. Probably wouldn't be a good choice for being the GM, though. I'm going to be gone for quite some time in a few months, but I'll be willing to help create the RP if you like. =D
Thanks! My current post was the second time I typed it out, so it was a bit more...Haphazard than I'd liked. ><'' The forum ate my first one.
While Mischief had been thankful for his exclusion from the diving part of the mission - he had had his fill of underwater operations for the month with the last mission - he found himself quickly regretting his enthusiasm for being left on the ship after the first five minutes of doing nothing but looking at the dark, endless water. He kept a hand on the control stick of the boat, but there was almost no need for that. If Huscarl and Praetorian did their jobs right and did them well, Mischief would just be providing a speedy getaway. The most excitement he could think of was if they kicked up something they should not have and they needed to make a quick and hot escape.
He sighed as he scanned the seascape once again, keeping a lookout for any signs of enemy naval activity. Of course, even if he spotted them, there was little he could do. He only had his RPGs, and while they were effective against aircraft and structures, it was pretty much useless against ships unless he happened to hit a vital point, or if the ships were mere inflatable, rigid-hulled boats. The more he looked at the waves, the more he felt his mind wander and his guard relax. He shook his head vigorously from side to side, he had to remain alert, even if his current task was incredibly mind-numbing.
His hopes were raised when he heard Huscarl's report of an enemy underwater dive team, but any hope for action was quickly squashed with Huscarl's next transmission. The enemy team had been neutralized, the two other members of his team had acquired alternative transport and now Mischief was to drive the boat on his own towards Camp Tempest, or whatever was left of it. "Mischief to proceed solo to Camp Tempest, I copy. I will meet you on the beach of Kyfi Bay." He replied, revved up the boats engine and got some speed before steering it towards his destination.
He sighed as he scanned the seascape once again, keeping a lookout for any signs of enemy naval activity. Of course, even if he spotted them, there was little he could do. He only had his RPGs, and while they were effective against aircraft and structures, it was pretty much useless against ships unless he happened to hit a vital point, or if the ships were mere inflatable, rigid-hulled boats. The more he looked at the waves, the more he felt his mind wander and his guard relax. He shook his head vigorously from side to side, he had to remain alert, even if his current task was incredibly mind-numbing.
His hopes were raised when he heard Huscarl's report of an enemy underwater dive team, but any hope for action was quickly squashed with Huscarl's next transmission. The enemy team had been neutralized, the two other members of his team had acquired alternative transport and now Mischief was to drive the boat on his own towards Camp Tempest, or whatever was left of it. "Mischief to proceed solo to Camp Tempest, I copy. I will meet you on the beach of Kyfi Bay." He replied, revved up the boats engine and got some speed before steering it towards his destination.
I'm here!
Everett could not put his finger on it, but there was something about RAF Lossiemouth that made it even more dismal than it felt. Perhaps it were the wrecks of several RAF planes that had been unceremoniously dumped onto the side of the runway, or the plentiful scars that marked the airbase's buildings and hangars. He had to admit, he had second thoughts about his commitment to the UNF when he first saw the damage; after all, this was no Balkan state that was just a hop away from the UNWO, this was Scotland, far into European territory. If the UNWO could threaten such a place, it meant that the UN was certainly in dire straits.
"Oi, Evy, are you in there?" A female voice, thick with a South African accent, asked suddenly, snapping Everett out of his thoughts. He looked back down from the ceiling at the woman seated opposite him. She was Zola, his weapons system officer. They had known each other from their time as mercenaries, but had only flown together in the same plane for a couple of flights. "Seriously, Evy, I can't believe you still get jet lag. You've been flying for...What? Six years now?" She said with a smirk and leaned back in her seat.
"Seven," Everett replied in a grumble and looked down at his empty plate. Now that he thought about it, the food was probably what gave him a bad feeling about the place. It was not bad by any stretch of the imagination, and in fact it was pretty good, but the portions were mediocre at best. Even after clearing his plate of everything, crumbs included, Everett still felt slightly peckish. While he understood that wartime conditions made simply getting an adequate supply of food an issue, "And it's not jet lag. I'm from the fucking tropics. The cold is playing hell with me." He said, picked up his mug with a hand and took a sip of the green tea he had brewed himself from a commercially bought teabag. It tasted stale, but at least it was something warm.
"I'm from Africa and I'm not feeling any worse for wear," Zola said. "'Sides, this can't be the first winter you've experienced."
"The last winter I experienced was in Croatia." He snapped. Just a week ago, he had been helping train fighter pilots destined for the skies above Syria and Iraq by flying the aggressor plane. He knew how the air forces of the UNWO worked, and his job, while boring to him, was vitally important to the UN air force. At least, that was what he had been told so many times that it lost its meaning and became just another phrase used by his superiors to explain why he had not been transferred to a combat unit. "That was nowhere as cold as this frozen hell."
Zola laughed and reached for Everett's mug. "I'll agree with the hell part, this base sure looks like one for the likes of us." She said and took a long sip. Everett arched a brow as he watched her, but said nothing. "Anyway, any plans for the day?" Zola asked and wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist. "I don't think they'll let us bring the Ghost up in this weather. I was thinking of checking out the town, you want to come along?"
Everett shrugged. "Eh, why not. Not like I've got-"
The loud, shrill alarm played over the PA system interrupted him and gave the both of them their plans for the day. "Looks like we're bringing the Ghost up, after all." Everett said and took one last sip of his tea before handing the cup over to Zola. She took a long gulp and set the mug back on the table before standing up. With only a few flights together, both of them were equally apprehensive about the challenge ahead. Their communication was passable, but it was far from being perfect, and in a combat scenario, anything less was potentially fatal.
"No time to waste, let's go!" Zola said and pretty much pulled Everett to his feet. They, along with a mass of other people, ran out of the mess hall and headed straight for the flight operations building. They hastily pulled on their G-suits and checked that everything was in working condition before rushing out of the building and onto the tarmac. They managed to hitch a ride with a vehicle transporting ordnance to their squadron. From the primarily air-to-air loads the vehicles were carrying, Zola guessed that they were being sent out to intercept an enemy flight. "Aerial combat," She said grimly.
"Aim, lock and shoot. Principles remain the same." Everett replied, though he was reassuring himself as much as her. They were both ground-attack pilots, with Everett having only marginal experience in air-to-air combat over the skies of Africa. It was going to be difficult getting accustomed to getting a lock and having to tell Zola to open fire rather than pulling the trigger himself, but he was confident that the two of them would be able to pull it off without any problems.
They hopped off the vehicle once they were at their aircraft. The Ghost of the Straits, or The Ghost for short, was a heavily modified Su-24 Fencer. "Nothing we can do here until the techies get things sorted," Zola said and nodded towards the Israeli Kfir and its pilot just two planes down from theirs. "There's our officer, I'd reckon. She does match the picture in the files they gave me."
"Same here," Everett said and started walking towards the officer. "We should talk to her. Maybe we can get some details."
"Right you are," Zola said and followed close behind. The high-pitched whines of the external APU systems feeding startup power to the engines of the assembled aircraft was deafening, and it made it hard to even think.
"Colonel Yosef?" Everett called out once they were close enough. "I am...Flight Lieutenant Everett Yang, and this is my WSO Flight Lieutenant Zola Vermaak." Their ranks were the ones they had when they left their respective air forces, and Everett did not know whether they were still legit, but it sure sounded a lot better than introducing themselves as rankless ex-mercenaries. "We're the crew of the Ghost of the Straits, that Su-24 two down from you. We were wondering if we could get any details on the mission ahead."
"Oi, Evy, are you in there?" A female voice, thick with a South African accent, asked suddenly, snapping Everett out of his thoughts. He looked back down from the ceiling at the woman seated opposite him. She was Zola, his weapons system officer. They had known each other from their time as mercenaries, but had only flown together in the same plane for a couple of flights. "Seriously, Evy, I can't believe you still get jet lag. You've been flying for...What? Six years now?" She said with a smirk and leaned back in her seat.
"Seven," Everett replied in a grumble and looked down at his empty plate. Now that he thought about it, the food was probably what gave him a bad feeling about the place. It was not bad by any stretch of the imagination, and in fact it was pretty good, but the portions were mediocre at best. Even after clearing his plate of everything, crumbs included, Everett still felt slightly peckish. While he understood that wartime conditions made simply getting an adequate supply of food an issue, "And it's not jet lag. I'm from the fucking tropics. The cold is playing hell with me." He said, picked up his mug with a hand and took a sip of the green tea he had brewed himself from a commercially bought teabag. It tasted stale, but at least it was something warm.
"I'm from Africa and I'm not feeling any worse for wear," Zola said. "'Sides, this can't be the first winter you've experienced."
"The last winter I experienced was in Croatia." He snapped. Just a week ago, he had been helping train fighter pilots destined for the skies above Syria and Iraq by flying the aggressor plane. He knew how the air forces of the UNWO worked, and his job, while boring to him, was vitally important to the UN air force. At least, that was what he had been told so many times that it lost its meaning and became just another phrase used by his superiors to explain why he had not been transferred to a combat unit. "That was nowhere as cold as this frozen hell."
Zola laughed and reached for Everett's mug. "I'll agree with the hell part, this base sure looks like one for the likes of us." She said and took a long sip. Everett arched a brow as he watched her, but said nothing. "Anyway, any plans for the day?" Zola asked and wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist. "I don't think they'll let us bring the Ghost up in this weather. I was thinking of checking out the town, you want to come along?"
Everett shrugged. "Eh, why not. Not like I've got-"
The loud, shrill alarm played over the PA system interrupted him and gave the both of them their plans for the day. "Looks like we're bringing the Ghost up, after all." Everett said and took one last sip of his tea before handing the cup over to Zola. She took a long gulp and set the mug back on the table before standing up. With only a few flights together, both of them were equally apprehensive about the challenge ahead. Their communication was passable, but it was far from being perfect, and in a combat scenario, anything less was potentially fatal.
"No time to waste, let's go!" Zola said and pretty much pulled Everett to his feet. They, along with a mass of other people, ran out of the mess hall and headed straight for the flight operations building. They hastily pulled on their G-suits and checked that everything was in working condition before rushing out of the building and onto the tarmac. They managed to hitch a ride with a vehicle transporting ordnance to their squadron. From the primarily air-to-air loads the vehicles were carrying, Zola guessed that they were being sent out to intercept an enemy flight. "Aerial combat," She said grimly.
"Aim, lock and shoot. Principles remain the same." Everett replied, though he was reassuring himself as much as her. They were both ground-attack pilots, with Everett having only marginal experience in air-to-air combat over the skies of Africa. It was going to be difficult getting accustomed to getting a lock and having to tell Zola to open fire rather than pulling the trigger himself, but he was confident that the two of them would be able to pull it off without any problems.
They hopped off the vehicle once they were at their aircraft. The Ghost of the Straits, or The Ghost for short, was a heavily modified Su-24 Fencer. "Nothing we can do here until the techies get things sorted," Zola said and nodded towards the Israeli Kfir and its pilot just two planes down from theirs. "There's our officer, I'd reckon. She does match the picture in the files they gave me."
"Same here," Everett said and started walking towards the officer. "We should talk to her. Maybe we can get some details."
"Right you are," Zola said and followed close behind. The high-pitched whines of the external APU systems feeding startup power to the engines of the assembled aircraft was deafening, and it made it hard to even think.
"Colonel Yosef?" Everett called out once they were close enough. "I am...Flight Lieutenant Everett Yang, and this is my WSO Flight Lieutenant Zola Vermaak." Their ranks were the ones they had when they left their respective air forces, and Everett did not know whether they were still legit, but it sure sounded a lot better than introducing themselves as rankless ex-mercenaries. "We're the crew of the Ghost of the Straits, that Su-24 two down from you. We were wondering if we could get any details on the mission ahead."
I was really hoping that this could be revived. =(
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