((Collab between
@Letter Bee and
@Rhona W .))
Mykhailo MartinezThe foe was coming towards him anyway. At the very last minute, the young man copied Fuka’s chandelle, and turned-climbed to face his enemy while at the same time trying to climb over them in the air. Then without preamble, the young man shouted, “Fox Two!”, for one of his Sidewinder as he launched one of those missiles at his enemy, then followed up by saying, “Guns!”, as he spat out bullets from his F-16’s rotary cannon, all the while announcing with more Brevity Codes that he was engaging this prick in a duel.
Whoever he, she, or they are, they will fall, and he will prevail.
The Titan pilot had the F-16C ahead of her. The sleek, needle-nosed jet was a worthy target; F-16’s were notoriously agile and quick, and she’d seen how this pilot had already caused a lot of damage to their Libyan clients’ facilities, although his flying was… amateurish and sloppy; all aggression and no precision. Nonetheless, he was dangerous, and that made him interesting to her.
“Titan Twelve; on my target,” she called out to the rest of her wingmates as she deftly flicked the Silent Eagle onto its wingtip, utilising the huge wing area of the F-15 to maneuver into a head-on approach to the smaller jet. Her plane had the advantage in power, with twin engines; and the big wing gave it excellent maneuverability. But the F-16 was lighter; the lesser mass meant it could react quickly. That became evidently clear as her instruments blared an incoming missile warning already.
A nose on shot? How very bold of you, she thought with a spike of thrilled fear. She rolled inverted and nosed down, pumping out flares to decoy the heat-seeker and get the hot leading edges and engines of her plane out of its’ line of sight.
Titan Ten’s voice came back to her over the radio as she dove away from her quarry.
“Be careful, Banshee; these Nunny mercs seem like they know what they’re doing”
“Mind your own business, Gorgon. This little fish is playing hard to catch. I’m just enjoying the challenge, over”
The only response was the older man’s rough laughter, muffled by the radio and his own strain as he pulled G’s much like her.
Mykhailo grinned as he saw the foe release flares while also evading his rotary cannon, and took advantage of that to try and circle towards the enemy’s back while trying to maintain his height advantage, then roaring. “Guns!”, before his F-16’s rotary cannon spat a stream of bullets.
Then he rolled to his right and her left in anticipation of her counterattack.
Her F-15 was somewhat larger, but also fast and powerful. But his F-16’s smaller size should allow him to whittle at her with sprays of gunshots; it wasn’t like he was running out of ammo.
No, he can win a battle of agility and attrition; there was a time to drop caution to the wind and this ain’t it.
Banshee’s banking turn brought her back toward the F-16, but he’d anticipated her move.
“Shit!” she barked out as the 20mm shells tore through the air around her. The F-16 had more energy to use in the dive, and the lighter mass let it pull out easier than her. Her F-15 shook and shuddered as the vulcan rounds tore a chunk out of her left wing. Cursing blue, she fought the flutter her plane had picked up, and pulled the switches for her fire extinguishers as she regained control. As he passed over her, she pulled a hard roll to her right; trading momentum from the diver for power and nosed back up. Too close for missiles, she switched to her new weapons; they weren’t restricted by range. Her helmet mounted sight showed the projected impact point of her weapons fire, and as it turned red, she squeezed the trigger on her stick.
There was no rumble or shudder as there was whenever she fired her vulcan cannon, or any sudden flare of missile or rocket exhaust.
Instead, twin spears of ruby light lanced out, one from each pod under the wings, slicing through the sky toward the F-16.
It was Mykhailo rolling to his right and her left a few seconds ago which saved him; for a brief moment, he thought,
wait, real laser beams? Awesome, but I know the countermeasures.The young man did not deign to follow her up, and instead said the Brevity Code for reflective chaff meant to deter targeting lasers but which he knew may reflect actual weaponized laser beams; lasers were just concentrated light, after all.
From under the cover of this cloud of tiny mirrors, the young man then called out, “Fox Two!” and unleashed another Sidewinder at the damaged enemy aircraft, then followed up with. “Guns!”, then another spray of rotary cannon fire.
After that, he was down to his rocket pods (Nails, right?) and more rotary cannon bursts.
Why was Mykhailo giving Banshee the silent treatment instead of enjoying the fight like she did? Because to be honest, his opinion of her was his opinion of any skilled, intelligent, and coherent enemies of the N/UN: Existential foes who threatened him and those he loved and the values he held in order to impose hell on earth because their sources of meaning and ‘morality’ demanded it.
Those had to be destroyed and the literal and metaphorical/rhetorical/ideological earth they stood on salted to the ground.
Let go, Mykhailo Martinez, his mind demanded.
You’re acting like the child people think you are.Maybe I am a child. Maybe I bluffed and play-acted like an adult long enough to enter the world of adults so I could kill the enemy and avenge Artemio.You want to enjoy the battle too. Focusing on what your enemy believes is not a way to enjoy the battle, his mind scolded back.
Let. Go.He smiled as his worries were released into the air again, and whether his Sidewinder or Rotary Cannon hit or not, Mykhailo shouted once more, “Guns!”, and shot at the foe’s intact wing.
Gorgon’s earlier warning came back to her as the F-16C she’d been tangled with managed to avoid the twin lancing beams of her lasers - though, barely. Instead, he managed to recover and come around into a frantic missile shot - one she shrugged off with ease, it was poorly aimed enough. But points for trying it, kid, she thought as she rose up past his nose, getting a high angle above him, avoiding the burst of gunfire he sent her way. As she yo-yo’ed high and came down, he rose to meet her, unleashing another burst of cannonfire.
With an irritated snarl, she pulled over in a hard bank that sent a shudder through her plane as the damaged wing protested. The move, however, put him right in her sights and she mashed the fire button for her laser pods, the twin lines intersecting cleanly with the F-16’s port horizontal stabilizer - even as his own vulcan fire tore into her other wing. Red caution lights lit up across her displays, and cautions insistently clamoured at her ears as the Silent Eagle shuddered and bucked.
“Shit! Fuck!” she cursed and snarled, desperately trying to regain control. Regardless; one thing was for certain - she was too damaged to continue the fight.
“This is Titan Twelve; taken hits. I’m bugging out!”
Banshee punched off the laser pods and the missiles under her wings; at this point they were causing more drag and problems than helping. She slapped the chaff/flare release button as she fought her aircraft around, diving for low altitude and putting her throttle as high as she dared before the vibration got worse, attempting to extend and disengage from her target, her plane trailing smoke as she ran.
“Fuck!” Mykhailo swore as the laser melted a vital part of his F-16, making maneuvering hard, which was bad as he
wanted to pursue - He was enjoying this now.
Nevertheless, he tried to force the plane to turn and pursue the enemy plane, trying to keep that target locked even as his own craft began to shake and uncomfortably wiggle without the stabilizer.
He then shouted, “Nails!, Nails!” as he fired one rocket, then another, at the enemy - Banshee, right? - as he tried to bring her down.
Then as the rockets sped toward her, the young man bantered with his foe for the first time, “Oi! Good job and don’t die - Now go down so I can shoot down my fifth plane!”
Banshee was already running, speeding low at only two hundred feet. She wasn’t trying to maneuver, but still; rockets were air-to-ground weapons; even the APKWS guided ones. Not at all designed or intended for air-to-air shots, even against a target not maneuvering, and the fuses in their warheads weren’t designed or intended to be used against aerial targets either. Nonetheless, it was more than enough to spook her as the brace of 70mm APKWS rockets tore through the air like flaming meteors, the explosions as they hit the ground rising in her rear view. She yelled out in confusion and surprise, turning hard using heavy pressure on her rudder pedals in a flat turn. It was to no avail, however; she didn’t have the mobility anymore with the damage she’d taken, and her jet started to pitch heavily to one side, and then back and up, creaking and groaning violently as the vibration increased and more cautions and warnings sounded. She fought for control, but nothing was responding as she felt the plane lurch and shudder, seeing debris detaching in her canopy mirrors.
Yelling in fear and confusion, she garbled a quick message into the radio.
“Titan Twelve, I’ve lost control; aircraft breaking up, I’m punching out!”
Before she reached down between her knees and pulled the ejection handle, leaving her plane behind in a blackness-inducing smash of force as her seat blasted her well clear of her stricken plane. Left behind, the Silent Eagle spun lazily over, turning into a cartwheeling shape in the darkness, trailing fire as it broke apart, and then smeared itself across the ground, coming down in an industrial park and the surrounding scrubby desert.
Mykhailo grinned, then decided not to commit a war crime by shooting at Banshee while she parachuted downwards. Instead, he hailed Scott and said, “Lost my Port Stabilizer to that Bandit! Should I keep going? I think I can take on one more Bandit.”
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